| A Swain, Hind, Knight; I fed, till'd, did command |
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| The Hand by which no King but Serjeant dies |
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| What doubt'st thou hand? sad Cato 'tis to kill |
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| It is not, y' are deceav'd, it is not blisse |
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| One stabbe could not fierce Cato's Life unty |
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| The Hand of sacred Cato bad to tear |
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