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HIPPOLITA: How foolishly this beast con...

Tis Pity She's a Whore

Vasques Hippolita

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HIPPOLITA: How foolishly this beast contemns his fate,

And shuns the use of that which I more scorn

Than I once loved, his love. But let him go;

My vengeance shall give comfort to his woe.

She offers to go away

VASQUES: Mistress, mistress, Madam Hippolita, pray, a word or two.

HIPPOLITA: With me, sir?

VASQUES: With you, if you please.

HIPPOLITA: What is't?

VASQUES: I know you are infinitely moved now, and you think you have cause: some I confess you have, but sure not so much as you imagine.

HIPPOLITA: Indeed.

VASQUES: O, you were miserably bitter, which you followed even to the last syllable. Faith, you were somewhat too shrewd. By my life, you could not have took my lord in a worse time since I first knew him: tomorrow you shall find him a new man.

HIPPOLITA: Well, I shall wait

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