Oth. Soft you, a word or two, I haue done the ftate fome feruice, and they know't; Drops teares as fast as the Arabian trees, Their medicinall gum; fet you downe this, 1 Where a malignant and a turband Turke, Beate a Venetian, and traduc'd the state; I took bi'th throate the circumcifed dog, Lod. O bloody period. Gra. All that's fpoke is 'mard. He ftabs himfelfe. Oth. I kift thee ere I kild thee, no way but this, Killing my felfe, to die vpon a kiffe. He dies. Caf. This did I feare, but thought he had no weapon, For he was great of heart. Lod. O Spartane dog, More fell then anguish, hunger, or the fea, Looke on the tragicke lodging of this bed: This is thy worke, the obiect poisons fight, § me as I am. you must. Let Let it be hid: Gratiano, keepe the house, Exeunt omnes. FINI S. SHAKE |