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Act I, Scene 80

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  • Shakespeare. O, how I faint when I of you do write,
    Knowing a better spirit doth use your name,
    And in the praise thereof spends all his might,
    To make me tongue-tied, speaking of your fame! 1110
    But since your worth, wide as the ocean is,
    The humble as the proudest sail doth bear,
    My saucy bark inferior far to his
    On your broad main doth wilfully appear.
    Your shallowest help will hold me up afloat, 1115
    Whilst he upon your soundless deep doth ride;
    Or being wreck'd, I am a worthless boat,
    He of tall building and of goodly pride:
    Then if he thrive and I be cast away,
    The worst was this; my love was my decay. 1120

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