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His favour with the radiant Cymbeline,
Laud we the gods;
And let our crooked smokes climb to their nostrils
Friendly together: so through Lud's town march:
Our peace we'll ratify; seal it with feasts.-
Act II. Scene III.
Aar. Hark, Tamora, the empress of my soul, Which never hopes more heaven than rests in thee,This is the day of doom for Bassianus;