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| 8. | SCENE VIII. |
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 | Regulus |  |
SCENE VIII.
Corvus.Why comes not this slow Mutius?—how the Time
Loiters in Expectation!—then the Mind
Drags the dead Burthen of an hundred Years
In one short Moment's Space—the nimble Heart
Beats with impatient Throbs—sick of Delay,
And pants to be at Ease:—'tis well thou'rt come—
| Regulus | |