CLEO.
No more but e’en a woman, and commanded
ROS.
And why, I pray you? Who might be your mother,
O, I know where you are. Nay, ’tis true.
VOL.
Nay, go not from us thus.
OPH.
O my lord, my lord, I have been so affrighted!
LADY. P.
O my good lord, why are you thus alone?
HOST.
Nay sure, he’s not in hell; he’s in Arthur’s bosom,
Q. KATH.
Sir, I desire you do me right and justice,
PRIN.
A time methinks too short
LADY M.
“They met me in the day of success;
ISAB.
To whom should I complain? Did I tell this,
POR.
Away then! I am lock’d in one of them;
The quality of mercy is not strain’d,
HEL.
How happy some o’er other some can be!
TITA.
Set your heart at rest;
Then I must be thy lady; but I know
O, I am out of breath in this fond chase!
Lo! she is one of this confederacy.
BEATRICE
What fire is in mine ears? Can this be true?
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