VALENTINE
Thou pimp most infamous, be still!
Could I thy withered body kill,
’Twould bring, for all my sinful pleasure,
Forgiveness in the richest measure.
MARGARET
My brother! This is Hell’s own pain!
VALENTINE
I tell thee, from thy tears refrain!
When thou from honor didst depart
It stabbed me to the very heart.
Now through the slumber of the grave
I go to God as a soldier brave.
(Dies.)
