]
Well--well--you know my fondness, and you love to tyrannise--Go on,
cruel man, do: triumph over my poor heart while it holds, which
cannot be long, with this usage of yours. But that's what you
want. Well, you will have your ends soon. You will--you will.
Yes, it will break to oblige you. [Sighs.]
FOND. Verily, I fear I have carried the jest too far. Nay, look
you now if she does not weep--'tis the fondest fool. Nay, Cocky,
Cocky, nay, dear Cocky, don't cry, I was but in jest, I was not,
ifeck.
LAET. [Aside.] Oh then, all's safe. I was terribly frighted. My
affliction is always your jest, barbarous man! Oh, that I should
love to this degree! Yet -
FOND. Nay, Cocky.
LAET. No, no, you are weary of me, that's it--that's all, you
would get another wife--another fond fool, to break her heart--
Well, be as cruel as you can to me, I'll pray for you; and when I
am dead with grief, may you have one that will love you as well as
I have done: I shall be contented to lie at peace in my cold
grave--since it will please you.
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