Scene 12.
O Cupid, thou art a cruel Tyrant, making more wounds than remedies! And I am wounded so, as I am sick with Love, and
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O Cupid, thou art a cruel Tyrant, making more wounds than remedies! And I am wounded so, as I am sick with Love, and
cannot live unless I am belov'd again.
To make my Passions know, is all my care, Lest he should love me not, is all my fear.