Agr.Bah! she’s my foe. I wronged her
That way a woman ne’er forgives. ’Twas I
Broke off her match with Sextius, you remember.
Ful. Your true friends dare not come: they stand aloof,
Watching the time to do you service, madam.
Agr. You speak of Pallas: there’s none else.
Ful.The lot
Of late befallen your majesty is such
As all our sex have borne, who have not raised
Nor much demeaned themselves beyond the rest.