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But I am not Satisfied: do you affect this gentlewoman? De. Hum. Cou. You will resolve, sir? De. As may become a stranger; ile not loose Thy friendship for all woman kind. Cou. He dares not owne you. Sis. I easilie forgive him; I should hate My selfe, if I depended on his pitty. Cou. Th'art a noble wench. Shall we leave of These jigs and speake our harts in earnest?
"Th'art a coward and a fool," I said to mysen; an' I wrestled i' my mind again' him till, when we come to Garstang's Copper-hole, I laid hold o' the preacher and lifted him up over my head and held him into the darkest on it. "Now, lad," I says "it's to be one or t'other on us thee or me for 'Liza Roantree. Why, isn't thee afraid for thysen?" I says, for he were still i' my arms as a sack.
I wish he were returned, my Eleonora, for both our sakes. Ele. The same wish I, sir. Hen. That then our Joys, which now like flowers nippd With frost, hang downe the head as if the stalkes Could not sustaine the toppes, they droope to much; At his returne th'art mine. Ele. I am yours now In holyest Contract. Hen.
'Well, when hoo put her piece daan afore me, I couldn't tak' mi een off her. "At yo'," I said, as gawmless as a nicked goose. "Then thaa'd better use thi een for what th'art paid for, an' look at them pieces i'stead o' lookin' at lasses' faces." 'And hoo walked aat o' th' warehaase like a queaan.
Looke you, sir, I can draw, and thus provok'd I dare chastise you, too. Cause I was merry I was not bound to feed your spleen eternally With laughter; yet I am not ignorant What an advantage, sir, your weapon gives you In length. Cou. Wee'le change; why, this is honour in thee. De. Now, sir, keepe of. Cou. Th'art not so base? De. I never cosen'd you, do you remember?
Behold! What blessings ancient prophesie foretold, Bestow'd on her in death. She past away So sweetly from the world, as if her clay Laid onely downe to slumber. Then forbeare To let on her blest ashes fall a teare. But, if th'art too much woman, softly weepe Lest grief disturbe the silence of her sleepe.
"He cometh robed and bending gracefully: * O'er crop and cropper dews of grace sheds he: He charms; nor characts, spells nor gramarye * May fend the glances of those eyne from thee: Say to the blamer, "Blame me not, for I * From love of him will never turn to flee": My heart hath played me false while true to him, * And Sleep, in love with him, abhorreth me: O heart! th'art not the sole who loveth him, * So bide with him while I desertion dree: There's nought to joy mine ears with joyous sound * Save praise of King Zahr Shah in jubilee: A King albeit thou leave thy life to win * One look, that look were all sufficiency: And if a pious prayer thou breathe for him, * Shall join all Faithfuls in such pious gree: Folk of his realm!
I wo'd not willingly despaire of thee, For thy Lands sake and cause I am thy Countreyman. One generous Vagarie, and thou wer't wise, Would breake somebodies hart within a sennight, And then th'art Lord of all. Have but the grace To dine wo' mee at taverne and ile tell Thy friends there is some hope. Cou. My friends? Cap.
The reserve of both forbade anything more. Mrs. Mason tucked in the small figure lingered a little said, "Laura, th'art not coald nor sick?" and when Laura answered cheerfully, the mistress went. The girl's eyes were wet for a while; her heart beat fast. There had been few affections in her short life far too few. Her nature gave itself with a fatal prodigality, or not at all.
He've a-drunk too much beer these four years past to last over a five-mile course; let be that never was his distance. And here's another thing: they've picked Tremenjous Hosken for one th'art." "And he's as strong as a bullock." "I dessay: but Seth Ede pulls thirty-eight or thirty-nine to the minute all the time he's racing never a stroke under. I've watched him a score o' times.
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