Direct reading · Original
Section 461
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An.
How now! Has sorrow made thee doate already?
Why Marcus, no man should be mad but
I:
What violent hands can she lay on her life:
Ah, wherefore dost thou vrge the name of hands,
To bid æneas tell the tale twice
ore
How Troy was burnt, and he made miserable?
O handle not the theame, to talke of hands,
Least we remember still that we haue none,
Fie, fie, how Frantiquely I square my talke
As if we should forget we had no hands:
If Marcus did not name the word of
hands.
Come, lets fall too, and gentle girle eate this,