Bring what you will; but come alive, pray come alive. Oh,
this is a happy discovery.
WAIT. Dead or alive I'll come--and married we will be in spite of
treachery; ay, and get an heir that shall defeat the last remaining
glimpse of hope in my abandoned nephew. Come, my buxom widow:
E'er long you shall substantial proof receive
That I'm an arrant knight -
FOIB. Or arrant knave.
ACT V.--SCENE I.
Scene continues.
LADY WISHFORT and FOIBLE.
LADY. Out of my house, out of my house, thou viper, thou serpent
that I have fostered, thou bosom traitress that I raised from
nothing! Begone, begone, begone, go, go; that I took from washing
of old gauze and weaving of dead hair, with a bleak blue nose, over
a chafing-dish of starved embers, and dining behind a traver's rag,
in a shop no bigger than a bird-cage. Go, go, starve again, do, do!
FOIB. Dear madam, I'll beg pardon on my knees.
LADY. Away, out, out, go set up for yourself again, do; drive a
trade, do, with your threepennyworth of small ware, flaunting upon a
packthread, under a brandy-seller's bulk, or against a dead wall by
a balladmonger.
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