Isa. Sir, make me not your storie

Luc. 'Tis true; I would not, though 'tis my familiar sin,

With Maids to seeme the Lapwing, and to iest

Tongue, far from heart: play with all Virgins so:

I hold you as a thing en-skied, and sainted,

By your renouncement, an imortall spirit

And to be talk'd with in sincerity,

As with a Saint

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