Was brine-wet with her teares. I am to complaine to you, sir.
Ile tell you how they have used her now shees dead:
They wrapt her in a cruell fould of lead,
And would not let me kisse her.
Fran. Thou didst love her.
Giov. I have often heard her say she gave mee sucke,
And it would seeme by that shee deerely lov’d mee
Since princes seldome doe it.
Fran. O, all of my poore sister that remaines!
Take him away, for Gods sake!