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'Twas I that murder'd her Thou lyest thou durst as well be damn'd as touch her, She was all sacred; and that impious Hand That had profanely touch'd her, Had wither'd from the Body. I lov'd her I ador'd her, and could I, Could I approach her with unhallowed thoughts? No, no, I durst not But as devoutest Pilgrims do the Shrine.
Faith, try the Prince, Sir; You are at your last. Bar. Art thou my Son? thou lyest; I never got a Parasite, a Coward. I seeke the Prince or bend in base submission! Ile seeke my grave first. Yf I needes must fall And that the fatall howre is cast of Barnavelt, Just like a strong demolishd Tower ile totter And fright the neighbour Cuntries with my murmour.
Does the ungrateful Wretch hide his own head, And send his Spies abroad? Pis. He is too great to fear, and needs them not: And him thou termest so, scorns the Office too. Phi. What makest thou here then, when the whole World's asleep? Be gone, there lies thy way, where'er thy business be. Pis. It lies as free for thee, and here's my business. Phi. Thou lyest, rude man. Pis.
"Sir Launcelot! ther thou lyest; thou were never matched of none earthly knights hands; thou were the truest freende to thy lover that ever bestrood horse; and thou were the kindest man that ever strooke with sword; and thou were the sternest knight to thy mortall foe that ever put spere in the rest." La Morte d'Arthur.
In any case Scene I must have been acted well forward. p. 312 rencounter. Meet. p. 322 Phi. Who's there. The Duke of Buckingham, in The Rehearsal , Actus ii, scaena V, has a fray burlesquing this passage. p. 325 Phi. Villain, thou ly'st. cf. The Rehearsal, Actus v, scaena I: 'Lieutenant-General. Villain, thou lyest. p. 330 Campania. The operations of an army in the field during a season. cf.
But I know you dare not come, for Moors and Christians know that I conquered you once, and took you and your vassals, and took from ye all that ye had with ye: and if ye come now ye shall receive the same payment at my hands as heretofore. As for what thou sayest that I am a false traitor, thou lyest, and art a false traitor thyself.
A, syr Launcelot, he sayd, thou were head of all Crysten knyztes, and now I dare saye, sayd syr Ector, thou syr Launcelot, ther thou lyest, that thou were neuer matched of none erthely knyghtes handes. And thou were the curtoyste knyghte that ever bare shelde. And thou were the truest frend to thy louer that euer bestradde hors, & thou were the truest louer of a synfull man that euer loued woman.
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