ISABELLA. Tomorrow! O, that's sudden! Spare him, spare him. He's not prepar'd for death. Even for our kitchens We kill the fowl of season; shall we serve heaven With less respect than we do minister To our gross selves? Good, good my lord, bethink you. Who is it that hath died for this offence? There's many have committed it.

Tomorrow O That's Sudden Spare Him Spare Him

Item catalogue number:
1381
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Measure for Measure
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