Page:Joseph and His Brethren A Pageant Play.djvu/171



[Mockingly] Oh, my lord, were I to speak to thee, in a moment I should win thy love again: which the gods forbid. I heed neither thy love nor thy hate. Farewell.

Death? A poor triumph, my lord. It is so easy to slay.

Not death. [To the ] Take her.

The eyes that offended have atoned.