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Various

"A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 8"

Your friend's attorney might have gone his way
With as great credit as did that orator
Which, handling an oration some three hours,
Ill for the matter, worse than bad for phrase,
Having said _dixi_, look'd, and found not one
To praise or dispraise his oration;
For, wearied with his talk, they all were gone.
FITZ. Now, by my troth, if any troth I have,
I am as merry at Matilda's mirth,
As I was glad to see her first day's birth.
For till this hour, so help me halidom,[310]
Since the too timely death of Huntington,
Not a blithe word had passage through her lips.
LEI. See, what a pleasing humour wooers bring.
YOUNG B. O, but ye leave too soon.
LEI. Yet she avers
I stand too long: shall I choose yours or hers?
MAT. Either forbear, I pray ye, for a while.
_Enter_ RICHMOND.[311]
Welcome, Lord Richmond.
RICH. What, doth Matilda smile,
That still like silence solitary sat?
Then off with widow's weeds, and teach your feet
(That have forgot for want of exercise,
And by the means your sorrow had no mean)
To tread a measure for a gallant crew
Of courtly masquers landed at the stairs;
Before whom, unentreated, I am come,
And have prevented, I believe, their page,
Who with his torch is enter'd.


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