A Select Collection of Old English Plays
“ Woe worth all such as ever did thy health or liking seek!O, that these gravèd hairs [209] of mine were covered in the clay! Here entereth Virginia.Let patience, dear father mine, your rigour something stay:Why do you wail in such a sort? why do you weep and moan? Virginius. O daughter dear and only heir, my life is near begone,And all for love of thee. Virginia. Ah, gods, how may this be?Dear father, do withdraw your dread, and let me know the cause:Myself will aid with life or death without demur or pause.Then tender your child that craveth this bound. [210] Virginius. ”
