Of my fain'd apprehension.
Char. I would once 165
Strip off my shame with my attire, and trie
If a poore woman, votist of revenge,
Would not performe it with a president
To all you bungling, foggy-spirited men.
But for our birth-rights honour, doe not mention170
One syllable of any word may goe
To the begetting of an act so tender
And full of sulphure as this letters truth: