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Oli. Twice did he turn his back, and purpos’d so : But, kindness, nobler ever than revenge, And nature, stronger than his just occasion, Made him give battle to the lioness, Who quickly fell before him; in which hurtling From miserable slumber I awak'd. Cel. Are you his brother?

370 Ros. Was it you he rescu'd ? Cel. Was't you that did so oft contrive to kill him?

Oli. 'Twas I ; but 'tis not I: I do not shame
To tell you what I was, since my conversion
So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am.

Ros. But, for the bloody napkin ?

Oli. By and by. When from the first to last, betwixt us two, Tears our recountments had most kindly bath'd, As how I came into that desert place ;In brief, he led me to the gentle duke. Who gave me fresh array, and entertainment, Committing me unto my brother's love ; Who led me instantly unto his cave, There stripp'd himself, and here upon his arm The lioness had torn some flesh away, Which all this while had bled; and now he fainted, And cry'd, in fainting, upon Rosalind. Brief, I recover'd him; bound up his wound; And, after some sınall space, being strong at heart, He sent me hither, stranger as I am,

391 To tell this story, that you might excuse His broken promise, and to give this napkin,



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Act IV.




Burng der

Thornthwave fou. M'S ABINGTON in ROSALIND,


Printed for J.Bell.,British Library Strand London, Norg" 1785.

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