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The Passionate Pilgrim

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Act I, Scene 14


  • Shakespeare. Good night, good rest. Ah, neither be my share:
    She bade good night that kept my rest away;
    And daff'd me to a cabin hang'd with care,
    To descant on the doubts of my decay. 185
    'Farewell,' quoth she, 'and come again tomorrow:'
    Fare well I could not, for I supp'd with sorrow.
  • Shakespeare. Yet at my parting sweetly did she smile,
    In scorn or friendship, nill I construe whether:
    'T may be, she joy'd to jest at my exile, 190
    'T may be, again to make me wander thither:
    'Wander,' a word for shadows like myself,
    As take the pain, but cannot pluck the pelf.