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and, struggling with him, falls to the ground, and Nurse escapes off the Stage.) I pray thee, pardon me, my noble friend! When passion led thee to disgrace thyself, This was an act of friendship.—Rise, Romiero.

No; here upon the ground, my bed of agony, I will remain. Sunk to this deep disgrace, The centre of the earth were fitter for me Than its fair surface and the light of heaven. Oh! this exceeds the worst imagination That e'er found entrance to this madden'd brain! That he—this hateful, vulgar, shapeless creature Fy, fy!

If thou canst harbour such a thought, Thou art in verity beside thyself. It is not possible that such a one Could please Zorada, were she even unfaithful.

Not please her! every thing will please a woman Who is bereft of virtue, gross, debased. Yea, black deformity will be to her A new and zestful object.

O Lady! come not here.