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That we may bring you something on the way.
DUKE. My haste may not admit it;
and aves vehement: Nor do I think the man of safe discretion, That does affect it. Once more,
well. ANG. The heavens give safety to your pur
poses ! Escal. Lead forth, and bring you back in
happiness. DUKE. I thank
well. MEASURE FOR MEASURE, A. 1, s. l.
GAIN AND KEEP A VIRTUOUS
SISTER'S LOVE. Lucio.
This is the point. The duke is very strangely gone from hence; Bore many gentlemen, myself being one, In hand, and hope of action: but we do learn, By those that know the very nerves of state, His givings out were of an infinite distance From his true-meant design. Upon his place, And with full line of his authority, Governs lord Angelo : a man, whose blood Is very snow-broth; one who never feels The wanton stings and motions of the sense ;
But doth rebate and blunt his natural edge
He has censur'd him
ISABELLA. My power! alas ! I doubt.-
Our doubts are traitors,
ISAB. I'll see what I can do.
the mother Notice of my affair. I humbly thank you : Commend me to my
brother : soon at night I'll send him certain word of my success.
LUCIO. I take my leave of you.
Good sir, adieu.
GOD HELPS WHERE PURE AFFEC
TION EXISTS. MIRANDA.
Alack! what trouble Was I then to you! PROSPERO.
O! a cherubim Thou wast, that did preserve me! Thou didst
smile, Infused with a fortitude from heaven, When I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt; Under
burden groan'd; which rais'd in me An undergoing stomach, to bear up Against what should ensue.
A. 1, s. 2.
GOD'S IMAGE. What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason! how infinite in faculties ! in form, and moving, how express and admirable! in action, how like an angel! in apprehension, how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals!
HAMLET, A. 2, s. 2.
GOOD DESERTED BRINGS
IF thou speak'st false,
Comes toward Dunsinane. — Arm, arm, and
out!If this, which he avouches, does appear, There is nor flying hence, nor tarrying here. I’gin to be a-weary of the sun, And wish the estate o' the world were now
undone. Ring the alarum bell:-Blow, wind! come, wrack! ! At least we'll die with harness on our back.
MACBETH, A. 5, 8.5.
GOD WORKS WITH THOSE THAT
WORK WITH HIM. COUNTESS. Even so it was with me, when I
was young: If we are nature's, these are ours; this thorn Doth to our rose of youth rightly belong :
Our blood to us, this to our blood is born; It is the show and seal of nature's truth, Where love's strong passion is impress'd in youth: By our remembrances of days foregone, Such were our faults ;-or then we thought them
eye is sick on’t; I observe her now. HELENA. What is your pleasure, madam ? COUNT.
You know, Helen, I am a mother to you.
HEL. Mine honourable mistress.
Nay, a mother; Why not a mother? When I said, a mother, Methought you saw a serpent: What's in mother, That you start at it? I
mother; And put you in the catalogue of those That were enwombed mine: 'Tis often seen,
I am your
Adoption strives with nature; and choice breeds
mother's care: God's mercy, maiden! does it curd thy blood, To say, I am thy mother?
What's the matter, That this distemper'd messenger of wet, The many-colour'd Iris, rounds thine eye ? Why ? that
you are my daughter ? HEL.
That I am not. Count. I say,
Pardon, madam; The count Rousillon cannot be
mother? HEL. You are my mother, madam; 'Would
you were (So that my lord, your son, were not my
brother) Indeed, my mother!—or were you both our
mothers, I care no more for, than I do for heaven, So I were not his sister: Can't no other, But, I your daughter, he must be my brother? COUNT. Yes, Helen, you might be my
daughter-in-law; God shield, you mean it not! daughter, and
mother, So strive upon your pulse: What, pale again? My fear hath catch'd your fondness: Now I see The mystery of your loneliness, and find Your salt tears' head. Now to all sense 'tis