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His unlock'd chains.—And, lady, come thou instantly, To such enthralment as becomes thy crime.

This is the prettiest plaything of them all: I will not use it till my mother come, That she may see it fresh and beautiful.

Alas, sweet Samar! would that she were here!

Will she not soon? how long she stays away! And she has been so kind to me of late.

Was she not always kind?

Yes, always very kind; but since my father