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Therefore I shunn'd that tempting couch, and sought Here, in my chair, to snatch a little sleep, And be in readiness ere break of day.

Thou hast done well. (After a pause.) Come to this pitch of secret profligacy, Who was so modest and so timid once! Was I a tyrant, that she is so ready To doff the virtuous and respected wife— For the base mistress of that minion too? Some spell, some devilish witchery, hath subdued her, Ere it could come to this.

Ay, so I think, if that in verity It be Zorada.

O 't is she! 't is she! Think'st thou I am a fool to be deceived By such affected doubts, in pity utter'd? Speak truly, plainly, treat me as a man. Call them—yea call that woman, an' thou wilt,—

Fy, fy! Zorada is not yet a

Hold!