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Cath. Thou said'st my chamber Should be adjoining that which Orra holds? I know thy wicked thoughts: they meditate Some dev'lish scheme; but think not I'll abet it.

Rud. Thou wilt not!—angry, restive, simple fool! Dost thou stop short and say, "I'll go no further?" Thou, whom concealed shame hath bound so fast,— My tool,—my instrument?—Fulfil thy charge To the full bent of thy commission, else Thee, and thy bantling too, I'll from me cast To want and infamy.

Cath.O shameless man! Thou art the son of a degraded mother As low as I am, yet thou hast no pity.

Rud. Aye, and dost thou reproach my bastardy To make more base the man who conquer'd thee, With all thy virtue, rigid and demure? Who would have thought less than a sov'reign Prince Could e'er have compass'd such achievement? Mean As he may be, thou'st given thyself a master, And must obey him.—Dost thou yet resist? Thou know'st my meaning. Cath. Under thy vest a dagger!—Ah! too well, I know thy meaning, cruel, ruthless man!