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Thal. My lord, If I

Can get him once within my pistol's length,
I'll make him sure: so farewell to your highness.
[Exit.
Ant. Thaliard, adieu! till Pericles be dead,
My heart can lend no succour to my head. [Exit.
SCENE II.-Tyre. A room in the palace.
Enter Pericles, Helicanus, and other Lords.
Per. Let none disturb us: Why this charge of
thoughts?

The sad companion, dull-ey'd melancholy,
By me so us'd a guest is, not an hour,
In the day's glorious walk, or peaceful night
(The tomb where grief should sleep,) can breed
me quiet!

Here pleasures court mine eyes, and mine

shun them,

And danger, which Lfeared, is at Antioch,
Whose arm seems far too short to hit me here:
Yet neither pleasure's art can joy my spirits,
Nor yet the other's distance comfort me.
Then it is thus: the passions of the mind,
That have their first conception by mis-dread,
Have after-nourishment and life by care;

eyes

And what was first but fear what might be done,
Grows elder now, and cares it be not done.
And so with me;-the great Antiochus
('Gainst whom I am too little to contend,
Since he's so great, can make his will his act,
Will think me speaking, though I swear to silence;
Nor boots it me to say, I honour him,
If he suspect I may dishonour him:

And what may make him blush in being known,
He'll stop the course by which it might be known;
With hostile forces he'll o'erspread the land,
And with the ostent of war will look so huge,
Amazement shall drive courage from the state;
Our men be vanquish'd, ere they do resist,
And subjects punish'd, that ne'er thought offence:
Which care of them, not pity of myself
(Who am no more but as the tops of trees,

Which fence the roots they grow by, and defend

them,)

Makes both my body pine, and soul to lauguish, And punish that before, that he would punish.

1 Lord. Joy and all comfort in your sacred breast! 2 Lord. And keep your mind, till you return to us, Peaceful and comfortable!

Hel. Peace, peace, my lords, and give experience tongue.

They do abuse the king, that flatter him:
The thing the which is flatter'd, but a spark,
For flattery is the bellows blows up sin;
To which that breath gives heat and stronger glow-
ing;

Whereas reproof, obedient, and in order,
When signior Sooth here does proclaim a peace,
Fits kings, as they are men, for they may err.
He flatters you, makes war upon your life:
Prince, pardon me, or strike me, if you please;
I cannot be much lower than my knees.

Per. All leave us else; but let your cares o'erlook What shipping, and what lading's in our haven, And then return to us. [Exeunt Lords.] Helicanus,

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Rise, pr'ythee, rise; Sit down, sit down; thou art no flatterer: I thank thee for it; and high heaven forbid, That kings should let their ears hear their faults hid! Fit counsellor, and servant for a prince, Who by thy wisdom mak'st a prince thy servant, What would'st thou have me do?

Hel.

With patience bear Such griefs as you do lay upon yourself.

Per. Thou speak'st like a physician, Helicanus; Who minister'st a potion unto me, That thou would'st tremble to receive thyself. Attend me then: I went to Antioch, Where, as thou know'st, against the face of death, I sought the purchase of a glorious beauty, From whence an issue I might propagate, Bring arms to princes, and to subjects joys. Her face was to mine eye beyond all wonder; The rest (hark in thine ear,) as black as incest; Which by my knowledge found, the sinful father Seem'd not to strike, but smooth: but thou know'st

this,

'Tis time to fear, when tyrants seem to kiss.
Which fear so grew in me, I hither fled;
Under the covering of a careful night,
Who seem'd my good protector; and being here,
Bethought me what was past, what might succeed.
I knew him tyrannous; and tyrants' fears
Decrease not, but grow faster than their years:
And should he doubt it (as no doubt he doth,)
That I should open to the listening air,
How many worthy princes' bloods were shed,
To keep his bed of blackness unlaid ope,-
To lop that doubt, he'll fill this land with arms,
And make pretence of wrong that I have done him,
When all, for mine, if I may callt offence.
Must feel war's blow, who spares not innocence:
Which love to all (of which thyself art one,
Who now reprov'st me for it)-

Hel.

Alas, sir!

Per. Drew sleep out of mine eyes, blood from my cheeks,

Musings into my mind, a thousand doubts
How I might stop this tempest, ere it came;
And finding little comfort to relieve them,
I thought it princely charity to grieve them.

Hel. Lord Thaliard from Antiochus is welcome.
Thal. From him I come

With message unto princely Pericles;
But, since my landing, as I have understood
Your lord has took himself to unknown travels,
My message must return from whence it came.
Hel. We have no reason to desire it, since

Hel. Well, my lord, since you have given me leave Commended to our master, not to us:

to speak,

Freely I'll speak. Antiochus you fear,
And justly too, I think, you fear the tyrant,
Who either by public war, or private treason,
Will take away your life.

Therefore, my lord, go travel for a while,
Till that his rage and anger be forgot,
Or destinies do cut his thread of life.
Your rule direct to any; if to me,
Day serves not light more faithful than I'll be.
Per. I do not doubt thy faith;

But should he wrong my liberties in absence-
Hel. We'll mingle bloods together in the earth,
From whence we had our being and our birth.
Per. Tyre, I now look from thee then, and to
Tharsus

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Intend my travel, where I'll hear from thee;
And by whose letters I'll dispose myself.
The care I had and have of subjects' good,
On thee I lay, whose wisdom's strength can bear it.
I'll take thy word for faith, not ask thine oath;
Who shuns not to break one, will sure crack both:
But in our orbs' we'll live so round and safe,
That time of both this truth shall ne'er convince,2
Thou show'dst a subject's shine, I a true prince.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.-Tyre. An ante-chamber in the
palace. Enter Thaliard.

I

Thal. So, this is Tyre, and this is the court. Here must I kill king Pericles; and, if I do not, am sure to be hang'd at home: 'tis dangerous.Well, I perceive he was a wise fellow, and had good discretion, that being bid to ask what he would of the king, desired he might know none of his secrets. Now do I see he had some reason for it: for if a king bid a man be a villian, he is bound by the indenture of his oath to be one.-Hush, here come the lords of Tyre.

Enter Helicanus, Escanes, and other Lords. Hel. You shall not need, my fellow peers of Tyre, Further to question of your king's departure. His seal'd commission, left in trust with me, Doth speak sufficiently, he's gone to travel. Thal. How! the king gone!

[Aside.

Hel. If further yet you will be satisfied,
Why, as it were unlicens'd of your loves,
He would depart, I'll give some light unto you.
Being at Antioch-
Thal.

What from Antioch? [Aside. Hel. Royal Antiochus (on what cause I know not,)

Took some displeasure at him; at least he judg'd so:
And doubting lest that he had err'd or sinn'd,
To show his sorrow, would correct himself;
So puts himself unto the shipman's toil,
With whom each minute threatens life or death.
Thal. Well, I perceive

[Aside.

I shall not be hang'd now, although I would;
But since he's gone, the king it sure must please,
He scap'd the land, to perish on the seas.-
But I'll present me. Peace to the lords of Tyre!

(1) In our different spheres. (2) Overcome.
(3) To jel is to strut, to walk proudly.

Yet, ere you shall depart, this we desire,→ As friends to Antioch, we may feast in Tyre.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-Tharsus. A room in the Governor's house. Enter Cleon, Dionyza, and Attendants.

Cle. My Dionyza, shall we rest us here,
And by relating tales of others' griefs,
See if 'twill teach us to forget our own?

Dio. That were to blow at fire, in hope to quench it;

For who digs hills because they do aspire,
Throws down one mountain, to cast up a higher.
O my distressed lord, even such our griefs;
Here they're but felt, and seen with mistful eyes,
But like to groves, being topp'd, they higher rise.
Cle. O Dionyza,

Who wanteth food, and will not say he wants it,
Or can conceal his hunger, till he famish?
Our tongues and sorrows do sound deep our woes
Into the air: our eyes do weep, till lungs
Fetch breath that may proclaim them louder; that,
If heaven slumber, while their creatures want,
They may awake their helps to comfort them.
I'll then discourse our woes, felt several years,
And wanting breath to speak, help me with tears.
Dio. I'll do my best, sir.

Cle. This Tharsus, o'er which I have government (A city, on whom plenty held full hand,) For riches, strew'd herself even in the streets; Whose towers bore heads so high, they kiss'd the clouds,

And strangers ne'er beheld, but wonder'd at ;
Whose men and dames so jetted and adorn'd,
Like one another's glass to trim them by:
Their tables were stor'd full, to glad the sight,
And not so much to feed on, as delight;
All poverty was scorn'd, and pride so great,
The name of help grew odious to repeat.
Dio. O, 'tis too true.

Cle. But see what heaven can do! By this our change.

These mouths, whom but of late, earth, sea, and air,
Were all too little to content and please,
Although they gave their creatures in abundance,
As houses are defil'd for want of use,
They are now starv'd for want of exercise:
Those palates, who, not yet two summers younger,
Must have inventions to delight the taste,
Would now be glad of bread, and beg for it;
Those mothers who, to nousle up their babes,
Thought nought too curious, are ready now,
To eat those little darlings whom they lov'd.
So sharp are hunger's teeth, that man and wife
Draw lots, who first shall die to lengthen life:
Here stands a lord, and there a lady weeping;
Here many sink, yet those which see them fall,
Have scarce strength left to give them burial.

Is not this true?

Dio. Our cheeks and hollow eves do witness it. Cle. O, let those cities, that of Plenty's cup And her prosperities so largely taste, With their superfluous riots, hear these tears!

(4) To dress them by. (5) Nurse fondly.

The misery of Tharsus may be theirs.
Enter a Lord.

Lord. Where's the lord governor ?
Cle. Here.

Speak out thy sorrows which thou bring'st, in haste,
For comfort is too far for us to expect.

Lord. We have descried, upon our neighbouring
shore,

A portly sail of ships make hitherward.
Cle. I thought as much.

One sorrow never comes, but brings an heir,
That may succeed as his inheritor;

And so in ours: some neighbouring nation,
Taking advantage of our misery,

Hath stuff'd these hollow vessels with their power,'
To beat us down, the which are down already;
And make a conquest of unhappy me,
Whereas no glory's got to overcome.

Lord. That's the least fear: for, by the semblance
Of their white flags display'd, they bring us peace,
And come to us as favourers, not as foes.

Cle. Thou speak'st like him's untutor'd to repeat,
Who makes the fairest show, means most deceit.
But bring they what they will, what need we fear?
The ground's the low'st, and we are half way there.
Go tell their general, we attend him here,

To know for what he comes, and whence he comes,
And what he craves.

Lord. I go, my lord.

[Exit.

Cle. Welcome is peace, if he on peace consist;2 If wars, we are unable to resist.

Enter Pericles, with Attendants.

Per. Lord governor, for so we hear you are,
Let not our ships and number of our men,
Be, like a beacon fir'd, to amaze your eyes.
We have heard your miseries as far as Tyre,
And seen the desolation of your streets:
Nor come we to add sorrow to your tears,
But to relieve them of their heavy load;
And these our ships you happily may think
Are, like the Trojan horse, war-stuff'd within,
With bloody views, expecting overthrow,
Are stor'd with corn, to make your needy bread,
And give them life, who are hunger-starv'd, half
dead.

All. The gods of Greece protect you!
And we'll pray for you.

Per.
Rise, I pray you, rise;
We do not look for reverence, but for love,
And harbourage for ourself, our ships, and men.
Cle. The which when any shall not gratify,
Or pay you with unthankfulness in thought,
Be it our wives, our children, or ourselves,
The curse of Heaven and men succeed their evils!
Till when (the which, I hope, shall ne'er be seen,)
Your grace is welcome to our town and us.

Per. Which welcome we'll accept; feast here
a while,

Until our stars that frown, lend us a smile.

ACT II.

Enter Gower.

[Exe.

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Prove awful both in deed and word.
Be quiet then, as men should be,
Till he hath pass'd necessity.
I'll show you those in trouble's reign,
Losing a mite, a mountain gain.
The good in conversation'
(To whom I give my benizon,)
Is still at Tharsus, where each man
Thinks all is writ he spoken can:
And, to remember what he does,
Gild his statue glorious:

But tidings to the contrary

Are brought your eyes; what need speak I?

Dumb show. Enter at one door Pericles, talking
with Cleon; all the train with them. Enter at
another door, a Gentleman with a letter to Peri-
cles;
Pericles shows the letter to Cleon; then
gives the Messenger a reward, and knights him.
Exeunt Pericles, Cleon, &c. severally.

Gow. Good Helicane hath staid at home,
Not to eat honey, like a drone,
From others' labours; forth he strive
To killen bad, keep good alive;
And, to fulfil his prince' desire,
Sends word of all that haps in Tyre:
How Thaliard came full bent with sin,
And hid intent, to murder him;
And that in Tharsus was not best
Longer for him to make his rest:
He knowing so, put forth to seas,
Where when men been, there's seldom ease;
For now the wind begins to blow;
Thunder above, and deeps below,
Make such unquiet, that the ship
Should house him safe, is wreck'd and split;
And he, good prince, having all lost,
By waves from coast to coast is tost:
All perishen of man, of pelf,

Ne aught escapen but himself;
Till fortune, tir'd with doing bad,

Threw him ashore, to give him glad:

And here he comes: what shall be next,

Pardon old Gower: this long's the text. [Ere.

SCENE I.-Pentapolis. An open place by the
sea-side. Enter Pericles, wet.

Per. Yet cease your ire, ye angry stars of heaven!
Wind, rain, and thunder, remember, earthly man
Is but a substance that must yield to you;
And I, as fits my nature, do obey you;
Alas, the sea hath cast me on the rocks,
Wash'd me from shore to shore, and left me breath
Nothing to think on, but ensuing death:
Let it suffice the greatness of your powers,
To have bereft a prince of all his fortunes;
And having thrown him from your wat❜ry grave,
Here to have death in peace, is all he'll crave.
Enter three Fishermen.

1 Fish. What, ho, Pilche!

2 Fish. Ho! come, and bring away the nets. 1 Fish. What, Patch-breech, I say!

3 Fish. What say you, master?

1 Fish. Look how thou stirrest now! come away,

or I'll fetch thee with a wannion.

3 Fish. 'Faith, master, I am thinking of the poor men that were cast away before us, even now.

1 Fish. Alas, poor souls, it griev'd my heart to hear what pitiful cries they made to us, to help them, when, well-a-day, we could scarce help our selves.

(5) i. e. Conduct, behaviour.

(6) Blessing.

[Exeunt two of the Fishermen. Per. How well this honest mirth becomes their

labour !

3 Fish. Nay, master, said not I as much, when draw up the net. I saw the porpus, how he bounced and tumbled? they say, they are half fish, half flesh; a plague on them, they ne'er come, but I look to be wash'd. Master, I marvel how the fishes live in the sea.

1 Fish. Why, as men do a-land: the great ones eat up the little ones: I can compare our rich misers to nothing so fitly s to a whale; 'a plays and tumbles, driving the poor fry before him, and at last devours them all at a mouthful. Such whales have I heard on a'the land, who never leave gaping, till they've swallow'd the whole parish, church, steeple, bells and all.

Per. A pretty moral.

3 Fish. But, master, if I had been the sexton, I would have been that day in the beitry.

2 Fish. Why, man?

3 Fish. Because he should have swallow'd me too: and when I had been in his belly, I would have kept such a jangling of the bells, that he should never have left, till he cast bells, steeple, church, and parish, up again. But if the good king Simonides were of my mind-

Per. Simonides!

3 Fish. We would purge the land of these drones, that rob the bee of her honey.

Per. How from the finny subject of the sea
These fishers tell the infirmities of men;
And from their wat'ry empire recollect
All that may men approve, or men detect!
Peace be to your labour, honest fishermen.

2 Fish. Honest! good fellow, what's that? if it be a day fits you, scratch it out of the calendar, and nobody will look after it.

1 Fish. Hark you, sir; do you know where you are ?

Per. Not well.

1 Fish. Why, I'll tell you: this is called Pentapolis, and our king, the good Simonides.

Per. The good king Simonides, do you call him? 1 Fish. Ay, sir; and he deserves to be so call'd, for his peaceable reign, and good government. Per. He is a happy king, since from his subjects He gains the name of good, by his government. How far is his court distant from this shore?

Fish. Marry, sir, half a day's journey; and I'll tell you, he hath a fair daughter, and to-morrow is her birth-day; and there are princes and knights come from all parts of the world, to just and tourney2 for her love.

Per. Did but my fortunes equal my desires, I'd wish to make one there.

1 Fish. O, sir, things must be as they may; and what a man cannot get, he may lawfully deal forhis wife's soul.

Re-enter the two Fishermen, drawing up a net.

2 Fish. Help, master, help; here's a fish hangs in the net, like a poor man's right in the law; 'twill hardly come out. Ha! bots on't, 'tis come at last, and 'tis turn'd to a rusty armour.

Per. An armour, friends! I pray you, let me see it.

Thanks, fortune, vet, that after all my crosses, Thou giv'st me somewhat to repair myself; Per. Nay, see, the sea hath cast upon your coast-And, though it was mine own, part of mine heritage, 2 Fish. What a drunken knave was the sea, to cast thee in our way!

Per. A man whom both the waters and the wind, In that vast tennis-court, hath made the ball For them to play upon, entreats you pity him; He asks of you, that never us'd to beg.

1 Fish. No, friend, cannot you beg? here's them in our country of Greece, gets more with begging, than we can do with working.

2 Fish. Canst thou catch any fishes then? Per. I never practis'd it.

2 Fish. Nay, then thou wilt starve sure; for here's nothing to be got now a-days, unless thou canst fish for't.

Per. What I have been, I have forgot to know; But what I am, want teaches me to think on; A man shrunk up with cold: my veins are chill, And have no more of life, than may suffice To give my tongue that heat, to ask your help; Which if you shall refuse, when I am dead, For I am a man, pray see me buried.

1 Fish. Die, quoth-a? Now gods forbid! I have a gown here; come, put it on; keep thee warm. Now, afore me, a handsome fellow! Come, thou shalt go home, and we'll have flesh for holidays, fish for fasting days, and moreo'er puddings and flap-jacks,' and thou shalt be welcome.

Per. I thank you, sir.

Which my dead father did bequeath to me,
With this strict charge (even as he left his life,)
Keep it, my Pericles, it hath been a shield
'Twixt me and death (and pointed to this brace :3)*
For that it sav'd me, keep it; in like necessity,
Which gods protect thee from! it may defend thee.
It kept where I kept, I so dearly lov'd it;
Till the rough seas, that spare not any man,
Took it in rage, though, calm'd, they give't again:
I thank thee for't; my shipwreck's now no ill,
Since I have here my father's gift by will.
1 Fish. What mean you, sir?

Per. To beg of you, kind friends, this coat of worth,

For it was sometime target to a king;

I know it by this mark. He lov'd me dearly, And for his sake, I wish the having of it; And that you'd guide me to your sovereign's court, Where with't I may appear a gentleman; And if that ever my low fortunes better, I'll pay your bounties; till then, rest your debtor. 1 Fish. Why, wilt thou tourney for the lady? Per. I'll show the virtue I have borne in arms. 1 Fish. Why, do ye take it, and the gods give thee good on't!

2 Fish. Ay, but hark you, my friend; 'twas we that made up this garment through the rough seams of the waters: there are certain condolements, cer

2 Fish. Hark you, my friend, you said you could tain vails. I hope, sir, if you thrive, you'll remem not beg.

Per. I did but crave.

2 Fish. But crave? Then I'll turn craver too, and so I shall 'scape whipping.

ber from whence you had it.

Per. Believe't, I will.

Now, by your furtherance, I am cloth'd in steel;
And spite of all the rupture of the sea,
This jewel holds his bidding on my arm;
Unto thy value will I mount myself

Per. Why, are all your beggars whipp'd then?
2 Fish. O, not all, my friend, not all; for if all
your beggars were whipp'd, I would wish no bet-Upon a courser, whose delightful steps
ter office, than to be beadle. But, master, I'll go

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Shall make the gazer joy to see him tread.(4) Keeping.

(3) Armour for the arm.

3 K

Only, my friend, I yet am unprovided
Of a pair of bases.

2 Fish. We'll sure provide: thou shalt have my best gown to make thee a pair, and I'll bring thee to the court myself.

Per. Then honour be but a gaol to my will; This day I'll rise, or else add ill to ill. [Exeunt.

The motto, In hac spe vivo.
Sim. A pretty moral;

From the dejected state wherein he is,

He hopes by you his fortunes yet may flourish.
1 Lord. He had need mean better than his out-
ward show

Can any way speak in his just commend:
For, by his rusty outside, he appears

lance.

SCENE II.-The same. A public way, or plat-To have practis'd more the whipstock," than the form, leading to the lists. A pavilion by the side of it, for the reception of the King, Princess, Lords, &c. Enter Simonides, Thaisa, Lords, and Attendants.

Sim. Are the knights ready to begin the triumph? 1 Lord. They are, my liege;

And stay your coming to present themselves.

To an honour'd triumph, strangely furnished.
2 Lord. He well may be a stranger, for he comes
3 Lord. And on set purpose let his armour rust,
Until this day, to scour it in the dust.

Sim. Opinion's but a fool, that makes us scan The outward habit by the inward man. Sim. Return them, we are ready; and our But stay, the knights are coming; we'll withdraw daughter, Into the gallery.

2

In honour of whose birth these triumphs are,
Sits here, like beauty's child, whom nature gat
For me to see, and seeing wonder at.

[Exit a Lord.
Thai. It pleaseth you, my father, to express
My commendations great, whose merit's less.
Sim. 'Tis fit it should be so; for princes are
A model, which heaven makes like to itself:
As jewels lose their glory, if neglected,
So princes their renown, if not respected.
'Tis now your honour, daughter, to explain
The labour of each knight, in his device."

[Exeunt. [Great shouts, and all cry, The mean knight! SCENE III.-The same. A hall of state.-A ban quet prepared. Enter Simonides, Thaisa, Lords, Knights, and Attendants.

Sim. Knights,

To say you are welcome, were superfluous.
To place upon the volume of your deeds,
As in a title-page, your worth in arms,
Were more than you expect, or more than's fit,
Since every worth in show commends itself.
Prepare for mirth, for mirth becomes a feast:

Thai. Which, to preserve mine honour, I'll per- You are my guests.
form.

Enter a Knight; he passes over the stage, and his
Squire presents his shield to the Princess.
Sim. Who is the first that doth prefer himself?
Thai. A knight of Sparta, my renowned father;
And the device he bears upon his shield
Is a black Ethiop, reaching at the sun;
The word, Lux tua vita mihi.

Sim. He loves you well, that holds his life of you. [The second Knight passes. Who is the second, that presents himself?

Thai. A prince of Macedon, my royal father;
And the device he bears upon his shield
Is an arm'd knight, that's conquer'd by a lady:
The motto thus, in Spanish, Pia per dulçura que per
fuerça.
[The third Knight passes.
Sim. And what's the third?
Thai.
The third, of Antioch;
And his device, a wreath of chivalry:
The word, Me pompa provexit apex.
[The fourth Knight passes.

Sim. What is the fourth?
Thai. A burning torch, that's turned upside down:
The word, Quod me alit, me extinguit.
Sim. Which shows that beauty hath his power
and will,

Which can as well inflame, as it can kill.
[The fifth Knight passes.
Thai. The fifth, a hand environed with clouds ;
Holding out gold, that's by the touchstone tried;
The motto thus, Sic spectanda fides.

[The sixth Knight passes. Sim. And what's the sixth and last, which the knight himself

With such a graceful courtesy deliver'd?

Thai. He seems a stranger; but his present is A wither'd branch, that's only green at top;

(1) A kind of loose breeches. (2) i. e. Return them notice. (3) Emblem on a shield.

The motto.

(4) Offer.

Thai.
But you, my knight and guest;
To whom this wreath of victory I give,
And crown you king of this day's happiness.
Per. 'Tis more by fortune, lady, than by merit.
Sim. Call it by what you will, the day is

yours;

And here, I hope, is none that envies it.
In framing artists, art hath thus decreed,
To make some good, but others to exceed;
And you're her labour'd scholar. Come, queen

o'the feast

(For, daughter, so you are,) here take your place: Marshal the rest, as they deserve their grace. Knights. We are honour'd much by good Simo

nides.

Sim. Your presence glads our days; honour we
love,
For who hates honour, hates the gods above.
Marsh. Sir, yond's your place.

Per.

Some other is more fit. 1 Knight. Contend not, sir; for we are gentle

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