In doubtful breast whilst motherly Pity

XLV

In doubtful breast whilst motherly pity
With furious famine standeth at debate,
Saith th'Hebrew mother, " O child unhappy,
Return thy blood where thou hadst milk of late.
Yield me those limbs that I made unto thee
And enter there where thou wert generate.
For of one body against all nature
To another must I make sepulture."
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