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Section 310
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Host.
Sweet‑heart, me thinkes now you are in an ex
cellent good temperalitie: your Pulsidge beates as ex
traordinarily, as heart would desire; and your Colour
(I warrant you) is as red as any Rose: But you haue
drunke too much Canaries, and that's a maruellous sear
ching Wine; and it perfumes the blood, ere wee can say
what's this. How doe you now?