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Dar'st thou to front me thus? Thy foolish pride, Like the mock loftiness of mimick greatness, Makes us contemned in the public eye, And my tight rule more hateful. Get thee hence; And be with hooded nuns a gorgeous saint, For know, thou lackest meekness for a queen. ''Ethw. (alone.)'' This woman racks me to the very pitch! Where I should look for gentle tenderness, There find I heartless pride. Ah! there was one Who would have sooth'd my troubles! there was one Who would have cheer'dBut wherefore think I now? (pausing thoughtfully.) Elburga has of late been to my will More pliant, oft assuming gentle looks: What may this mean? under this alter'd guise What treach'ry lurks?(pausing again for some time.) And yet it should not be: Her greatness must upon my fortune hang, And this she knows full well. I've been rough with her. Some have, from habit and united interest, Amidst the wreck of other human ties, The stedfast duty of a wife retain'd, E'en where no early love or soft endearments