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Act IV., Sc. 4]
TRAGEDY OF BRENNORALT
253

Gra. With, narrow mouth, small teeth, and lips swelling,
As if she pouted———20

Vil. Hold, hold, hold!

Gra. Hair curling, and cover'd, like buds of marjoram;
Part tied in negligence, part loosely flowing———

Mar. Tyrant, tyrant, tyrant!

Gra. In a pink-colour taffeta petticoat,25
Lac'd smock-sleeves dangling! This vision stol'n
From her own bed, and rustling into one's chamber!

Vil. O good Grainevert, good Grainevert!

Gra. With a wax candle in her hand, looking
As if she had lost her way, at twelve at night.30

Mar. Oh, any hour, any hour!

Gra. Now I think on't, by this hand, I'll marry, and be long-liv'd.

Vil. Long-liv'd! how?

Gra. Oh, he that has a wife eats with an appetite; h'as
a very good stomach to't first. This living at large is very35
destructive. Variety is like rare sauces; provokes too far,
and draws on surfeits more than th' other.

Enter Doran

Dor. So;
Is this a time to fool in?

Gra. What's the matter?

Dor. Draw out your choice men40
And away to your Coronel immediately.
There's work towards, my boys, there's work.

Gra. Art in earnest?

Dor. By this light.

Gra. There's something in that yet.45

This moiety war,
Twilight,
Neither night nor day:
Pox upon it!
A storm is worth a thousand50
Of your calm;
There's more variety in it.[Exeunt

Scene V
Enter Almerin and Francelia, as talking earnestly

Alm. Madam, that shows the greatness of my passion.

Fran. The imperfection rather: jealousy's