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Updated: May 10, 2025
Persons so near of Kin do seldom prosper in the Marriage-Bed. Lord. However 'tis, I now think fit to unmarry 'em; And as for him, I'll use him with what Rigor The utmost Limits of the Law allows me. Char. Sir, I beseech you Lord. You beseech me! You, the Brother of the Villain! that has abus'd the best of all my Hopes! Char. Sir, how, have I offended? Lord.
The rage I was in to be so abus'd, put me upon hanging my self; and having ty'd an apron, I found in the room, to the bed-stead, committed my neck to the noose I had made with its strings: When Eumolpus and Gito came to the door, and entering, prevented my design: Gito, his grief growing to a rage, made a great out-cry, and forcing me on the bed, "You're mistaken," said he, "Encolpius, if you fancy it possible for you to dye before me: I was first in the design, and had not surviv'd my choice of Ascyltos; if I had met with an instrument of death: But had not you come to my relief in the bath, I had resolv'd to throw my self out of the window: And that you may know how ready death is to wait those that desire it: see I've got what you so lately endeavour'd."
The black grim god did thus to Fortune say, Reaching her hand, the yielding earth gave way The fickle goddess, thus returning, said, Father, by all beneath this earth obey'd, If dangerous truths may be with safety told, My thoughts with yours a just proportion hold: No less a rage this willing breast inspires, Nor am I prest with less inflam'd desires; I hate the blessings that to Rome I lent, And of my bounty, now abus'd, repent: Thus the proud height of Rome's aspiring wall, By the same dreadful god 'twas rais'd, shall fall.
This is because the Duke's House temporarily changed its name thus. It does not refer to a second run of the play. or, the Jealous Bridegroom. Va mon enfant! prends ta fortune. Gallants, our Poets have of late so us'd ye, In Play and Prologue too so much abus'd ye, That should we beg your aids, I justly fear, Ye're so incens'd you'd hardly lend it here.
Believe me, Gallants, he'as abus'd you all; There's not a Vizard in our whole Cabal: Those are but Pickeroons that scour for prey And catch up all they meet with in their way; Who can no Captives take, for all they do Is pillage ye, then gladly let you go.
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