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 Dame Guggligoy.Is it for me, in very truth, you burn? Rochester [aside.]Ay, were I hell! [Aloud.]Madame— Cromwell. Come, come, my master! In all its fervour let your love appear. You have my sanction. Tell Dame Guggligoy That you did beg my daughter, on your knees, For her fair hand. Dame Guggligoy. My hand? [To the crestfallen. {{Hidden text|For her fair hand.} My hand?}} So 'twas for that? But 'tis most insolent! Without my leave! Rochester [with a reproachful glance at the laughing. Doubtless I am beyond all hope of pardon.
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Madame— Dame Guggligoy. Audacious man! Beware my wrath! Rochester [aside.] With her grey hair, which once was fiery red! Dame Guggligoy [aside.]But he is charming! [Aloud.]Little malapert, You love me, eh? Rochester. I cannot say you nay. [Aside.]O Wilmot, how thy plight would please the King, 'Twixt Lady Seymour and Dame Guggligoy! Dame Guggligoy.You love me? Rochester [aside.] Ah! if Cromwell could not hear! But under pain of death I must be kind. [Aloud.]I love you. Dame Guggligoy [coyly.] 'Tis too much! Rochester. So I agree.