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Hideg yourself, to like of: but I prattle
I am, in my condition,
Do you love me?
I am a fool,
Wherefore weep you? Mira. At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer What I desire to give; and much less take, What I shall die to want: But this is trifling; And all the more it seeks to hide itself, The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning, And prompt me, plain and holy innocence. I am your wife if you will marry me; If not, I'll die your maid: to be your fellow You may deny me: but I'll be your servant, Whether
will or no. Fer.
My mistress, dearest,
My husband then!
As bondage e'er of freedom: here's my hand.
A thousand! thousand!
A GUILTY CONSCIENCE.
0, it is monstrous ! monstrous!
A LOVER'S PROTESTATION.
PASSION TOO STRONG FOR VOWS.
VANITY OF HUMAN NATURE.
Are melted into air, into thin air:
DRUNKARDS ENCHANTED BY ARIEL.
I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking; So full of valour, that they smote the air For breathing in their faces; beat the ground For kissing of their feet; yet always bending Towards their project; Then I beat my tabor, At which, like unback'd colts, they prick'd their
ears, Advanc'd their eyelids, lifted up their noses, As they smelt music; so I charm’d their ears, That, calf-like, they my lowing follow'd, through Tooth'd briers, sharp furzes, pricking goss, and
thorns, Which enter'd their frail shins: at last I left them l' the filthy mantled pool beyond your cell, There dancing up to the chins.
LIGHTNESS OF FOOT. Pray you, tread softly, that the blind mole may not Hear a foot fall.
His tears run down his beard, like winter's drops From eavest of reeds. COMPASSION AND CLEMENCY SUPERIOR TO REVENGE.
Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling Of their afflictions? and shall not myself,
† A body of clouds in motion; but it is most probable that the author wrote track.
One of their kind, that relish all as sharply. Passion as they, be kindlier mov'd than thou art? Though with their high wrongs I am struck to the
quick, Yet, with my nobler reason, 'gainst my fury Do I take part: the rarer artiou is In virtue than in vengeance: they being penitent, The sole drift of my purpose doth extend Not a frown further.
FAIRIES AND MAGIC.
Ye elves of hills, brooks, stinding lakes, and
groves; And ye, that on the sands with printless foot Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him, When he comes back; you demi-puppets, that By moonshine do the green-sour ringlets make, Whereof the ewe not bites; and you, whose pastime Is to make midnight mushrooms; that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid (Weak masters though you be) I have bedimm'd The noon-tide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds: And 'twixt the green sea and the azur'd vault Set roaring war: to the dread, rattling thunder Have I given fire, and rifted Jove's stout oak With his own bolt: the strong-bas'd promontory Have I made shake; and by the spurs pluck'd up The pine and cedar: graves, at my command, Have wak’d their sleepers; op'd, and let them forth By my so potent art.
The charm dissolves apace,
O my good Gonzalo,
You brother mine, that entertained ambition,
After summer, merrily:
NATURAL AFFECTION ALLIED TO LOVE.
0, she, that hath a heart of that fine frame,
pay this debt of love but to a brother,
* Pity, or tenderness of heart.