Sirs, what’s o’clock?
[5] Serv. Ten, my lord.
Glou. Ten is the hour that was appointed me
To watch the coming of my punish’d duchess:
Uneath may she endure the flinty streets,
To tread them with her tender-feeling feet.
10 Sweet Nell, ill can thy noble mind abrook
[♦] The abject people gazing on thy face,
[♦] With envious looks, laughing at thy shame,
That erst did follow thy proud chariot-wheels