Marc. Now, by all my hopes,
Like the two slaughter'd sons of OEdipus,
The very flames of our affection
Shall turn two ways. Those words I 'll make thee answer
With thy heart-blood.
Flam. Do, like the geese in the progress;
You know where you shall find me.
Marc. Very good. [Exit Flamineo.
And thou be'st a noble friend, bear him my sword,
And bid him fit the length on 't.
Young Lord. Sir, I shall. [Exeunt all but Zanche.
Zan. He comes. Hence petty thought of my disgrace!
[Enter Francisco.
I ne'er lov'd my complexion till now,
'Cause I may boldly say, without a blush,
I love you.
Fran. Your love is untimely sown; there 's a spring at Michaelmas, but
'tis but a faint one: I am sunk in years, and I have vowed never to
marry.
Zan. Alas! poor maids get more lovers than husbands: yet you may
mistake my wealth. For, as when ambassadors are sent to congratulate
princes, there 's commonly sent along with them a rich present, so
that, though the prince like not the ambassador's person, nor words,
yet he likes well of the presentment; so I may come to you in the same
manner, and be better loved for my dowry than my virtue.
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