No. GUENDOLEN. GUENDOLEN. I bore A brave man when I bore thee. MADAN. MADAN. I desire No more of laud or leasing. Hath my sire Wronged thee? GUENDOLEN. GUENDOLEN. Never. But wilt thou trust me now? MADAN. MADAN. As trustful am I, mother of mine, as thou. Enter Locrine. Locrine LOCRINE. LOCRINE. The gods be good to thee! How farest thou? GUENDOLEN. GUENDOLEN.
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