Speeches (Lines) for Shakespeare
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# | Act, Scene, Line (Click to see in context) |
Speech text |
1 |
'Vilia miretur vulgus; mihi flavus Apollo
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TO THE
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3 |
RIGHT HONORABLE,
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4 |
Your honour's in all duty,
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5 |
'Thrice-fairer than myself,' thus she began,
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'Vouchsafe, thou wonder, to alight thy steed,
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'And yet not cloy thy lips with loathed satiety,
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8 |
With this she seizeth on his sweating palm,
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9 |
Over one arm the lusty courser's rein,
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10 |
The studded bridle on a ragged bough
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11 |
So soon was she along as he was down,
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12 |
He burns with bashful shame: she with her tears
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13 |
Even as an empty eagle, sharp by fast,
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14 |
Forced to content, but never to obey,
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15 |
Look, how a bird lies tangled in a net,
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16 |
Still she entreats, and prettily entreats,
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17 |
Look how he can, she cannot choose but love;
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18 |
Upon this promise did he raise his chin,
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19 |
Never did passenger in summer's heat
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20 |
'I have been woo'd, as I entreat thee now,
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21 |
'Over my altars hath he hung his lance,
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22 |
'Thus he that overruled I oversway'd,
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23 |
'Touch but my lips with those fair lips of thine,—
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24 |
'The tender spring upon thy tempting lip
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25 |
'Were I hard-favour'd, foul, or wrinkled-old,
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26 |
'Thou canst not see one wrinkle in my brow;
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27 |
'Bid me discourse, I will enchant thine ear,
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28 |
'Witness this primrose bank whereon I lie;
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29 |
'Is thine own heart to thine own face affected?
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30 |
'Torches are made to light, jewels to wear,
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31 |
'Upon the earth's increase why shouldst thou feed,
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32 |
By this the love-sick queen began to sweat,
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33 |
And now Adonis, with a lazy spright,
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34 |
'Ay me,' quoth Venus, 'young, and so unkind?
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35 |
'The sun that shines from heaven shines but warm,
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36 |
'Art thou obdurate, flinty, hard as steel,
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37 |
'What am I, that thou shouldst contemn me this?
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38 |
'Fie, lifeless picture, cold and senseless stone,
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39 |
This said, impatience chokes her pleading tongue,
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40 |
Sometimes she shakes her head and then his hand,
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41 |
'Fondling,' she saith, 'since I have hemm'd thee here
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42 |
Within this limit is relief enough,
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43 |
At this Adonis smiles as in disdain,
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44 |
These lovely caves, these round enchanting pits,
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45 |
Now which way shall she turn? what shall she say?
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46 |
But, lo, from forth a copse that neighbors by,
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47 |
Imperiously he leaps, he neighs, he bounds,
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48 |
His ears up-prick'd; his braided hanging mane
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49 |
Sometime he trots, as if he told the steps,
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50 |
What recketh he his rider's angry stir,
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51 |
Look, when a painter would surpass the life,
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52 |
Round-hoof'd, short-jointed, fetlocks shag and long,
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53 |
Sometime he scuds far off and there he stares;
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54 |
He looks upon his love and neighs unto her;
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55 |
Then, like a melancholy malcontent,
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56 |
His testy master goeth about to take him;
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57 |
All swoln with chafing, down Adonis sits,
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58 |
An oven that is stopp'd, or river stay'd,
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59 |
He sees her coming, and begins to glow,
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60 |
O, what a sight it was, wistly to view
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61 |
Now was she just before him as he sat,
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62 |
O, what a war of looks was then between them!
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63 |
Full gently now she takes him by the hand,
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64 |
Once more the engine of her thoughts began:
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65 |
'Give me my hand,' saith he, 'why dost thou feel it?'
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66 |
'For shame,' he cries, 'let go, and let me go;
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67 |
Thus she replies: 'Thy palfrey, as he should,
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68 |
'How like a jade he stood, tied to the tree,
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69 |
'Who sees his true-love in her naked bed,
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70 |
'Let me excuse thy courser, gentle boy;
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71 |
I know not love,' quoth he, 'nor will not know it,
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72 |
'Who wears a garment shapeless and unfinish'd?
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73 |
'You hurt my hand with wringing; let us part,
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74 |
'What! canst thou talk?' quoth she, 'hast thou a tongue?
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75 |
'Had I no eyes but ears, my ears would love
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76 |
'Say, that the sense of feeling were bereft me,
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77 |
'But, O, what banquet wert thou to the taste,
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78 |
Once more the ruby-colour'd portal open'd,
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79 |
This ill presage advisedly she marketh:
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And at his look she flatly falleth down,
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81 |
And all amazed brake off his late intent,
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82 |
He wrings her nose, he strikes her on the cheeks,
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83 |
The night of sorrow now is turn'd to day:
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84 |
Whose beams upon his hairless face are fix'd,
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85 |
'O, where am I?' quoth she, 'in earth or heaven,
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86 |
'O, thou didst kill me: kill me once again:
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87 |
'Long may they kiss each other, for this cure!
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88 |
'Pure lips, sweet seals in my soft lips imprinted,
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89 |
'A thousand kisses buys my heart from me;
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90 |
'Fair queen,' quoth he, 'if any love you owe me,
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91 |
'Look, the world's comforter, with weary gait,
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92 |
'Now let me say 'Good night,' and so say you;
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93 |
Till, breathless, he disjoin'd, and backward drew
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94 |
Now quick desire hath caught the yielding prey,
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95 |
And having felt the sweetness of the spoil,
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96 |
Hot, faint, and weary, with her hard embracing,
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97 |
What wax so frozen but dissolves with tempering,
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98 |
When he did frown, O, had she then gave over,
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99 |
For pity now she can no more detain him;
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100 |
'Sweet boy,' she says, 'this night I'll waste in sorrow,
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101 |
'The boar!' quoth she; whereat a sudden pale,
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102 |
Now is she in the very lists of love,
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103 |
Even as poor birds, deceived with painted grapes,
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104 |
But all in vain; good queen, it will not be:
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105 |
'Thou hadst been gone,' quoth she, 'sweet boy, ere this,
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106 |
'On his bow-back he hath a battle set
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107 |
'His brawny sides, with hairy bristles arm'd,
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108 |
'Alas, he nought esteems that face of thine,
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109 |
'O, let him keep his loathsome cabin still;
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110 |
'Didst thou not mark my face? was it not white?
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111 |
'For where Love reigns, disturbing Jealousy
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112 |
'This sour informer, this bate-breeding spy,
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113 |
'And more than so, presenteth to mine eye
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114 |
'What should I do, seeing thee so indeed,
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115 |
'But if thou needs wilt hunt, be ruled by me;
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116 |
'And when thou hast on foot the purblind hare,
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117 |
'Sometime he runs among a flock of sheep,
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118 |
'For there his smell with others being mingled,
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119 |
'By this, poor Wat, far off upon a hill,
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120 |
'Then shalt thou see the dew-bedabbled wretch
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121 |
'Lie quietly, and hear a little more;
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122 |
'Where did I leave?' 'No matter where,' quoth he,
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123 |
'But if thou fall, O, then imagine this,
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124 |
'Now of this dark night I perceive the reason:
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125 |
'And therefore hath she bribed the Destinies
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126 |
'As burning fevers, agues pale and faint,
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127 |
'And not the least of all these maladies
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128 |
'Therefore, despite of fruitless chastity,
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129 |
'What is thy body but a swallowing grave,
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130 |
'So in thyself thyself art made away;
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131 |
'Nay, then,' quoth Adon, 'you will fall again
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132 |
'If love have lent you twenty thousand tongues,
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133 |
'Lest the deceiving harmony should run
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134 |
'What have you urged that I cannot reprove?
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135 |
'Call it not love, for Love to heaven is fled,
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136 |
'Love comforteth like sunshine after rain,
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137 |
'More I could tell, but more I dare not say;
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138 |
With this, he breaketh from the sweet embrace,
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139 |
Which after him she darts, as one on shore
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140 |
Whereat amazed, as one that unaware
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141 |
And now she beats her heart, whereat it groans,
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142 |
She marking them begins a wailing note
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143 |
Her song was tedious and outwore the night,
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144 |
For who hath she to spend the night withal
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145 |
Lo, here the gentle lark, weary of rest,
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146 |
Venus salutes him with this fair good-morrow:
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147 |
This said, she hasteth to a myrtle grove,
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148 |
And as she runs, the bushes in the way
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149 |
By this, she hears the hounds are at a bay;
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150 |
For now she knows it is no gentle chase,
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151 |
This dismal cry rings sadly in her ear,
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152 |
Thus stands she in a trembling ecstasy;
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153 |
Whose frothy mouth, bepainted all with red,
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154 |
A thousand spleens bear her a thousand ways;
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155 |
Here kennell'd in a brake she finds a hound,
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156 |
When he hath ceased his ill-resounding noise,
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157 |
Look, how the world's poor people are amazed
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158 |
'Hard-favour'd tyrant, ugly, meagre, lean,
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159 |
'If he be dead,—O no, it cannot be,
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160 |
'Hadst thou but bid beware, then he had spoke,
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161 |
'Dost thou drink tears, that thou provokest such weeping?
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162 |
Here overcome, as one full of despair,
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163 |
O, how her eyes and tears did lend and borrow!
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164 |
Variable passions throng her constant woe,
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165 |
By this, far off she hears some huntsman hollo;
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166 |
Whereat her tears began to turn their tide,
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167 |
O hard-believing love, how strange it seems
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168 |
Now she unweaves the web that she hath wrought;
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169 |
'No, no,' quoth she, 'sweet Death, I did but jest;
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170 |
'Tis not my fault: the boar provoked my tongue;
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171 |
Thus hoping that Adonis is alive,
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172 |
'O Jove,' quoth she, 'how much a fool was I
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173 |
'Fie, fie, fond love, thou art so full of fear
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174 |
As falcon to the lure, away she flies;
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175 |
Or, as the snail, whose tender horns being hit,
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176 |
Where they resign their office and their light
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177 |
Whereat each tributary subject quakes;
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178 |
And, being open'd, threw unwilling light
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179 |
This solemn sympathy poor Venus noteth;
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180 |
Upon his hurt she looks so steadfastly,
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181 |
'My tongue cannot express my grief for one,
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182 |
'Alas, poor world, what treasure hast thou lost!
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183 |
'Bonnet nor veil henceforth no creature wear!
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184 |
'And therefore would he put his bonnet on,
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185 |
'To see his face the lion walk'd along
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186 |
'When he beheld his shadow in the brook,
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187 |
'But this foul, grim, and urchin-snouted boar,
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188 |
'Tis true, 'tis true; thus was Adonis slain:
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189 |
'Had I been tooth'd like him, I must confess,
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190 |
She looks upon his lips, and they are pale;
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191 |
Two glasses, where herself herself beheld
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192 |
'Since thou art dead, lo, here I prophesy:
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193 |
'It shall be fickle, false and full of fraud,
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194 |
'It shall be sparing and too full of riot,
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195 |
'It shall suspect where is no cause of fear;
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196 |
'It shall be cause of war and dire events,
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197 |
By this, the boy that by her side lay kill'd
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198 |
She bows her head, the new-sprung flower to smell,
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199 |
'Poor flower,' quoth she, 'this was thy fathers guise—
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200 |
'Here was thy father's bed, here in my breast;
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201 |
Thus weary of the world, away she hies,
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