Tis Pity She’s a Whore

Hippolita ‘Tis she; Be not amaz’d; nor blush, young lovely bride, I come not to defraud you of your man: 'Tis now no time to reckon up the talk what Parma long hath rumour’d of us both; Let rash report run on! the breath that vents it Will, like a bubble, break itself at last.