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No, 'tis slander ; Whose edge is sharper than the sword; whose tongue Outvenoms all the worms of Nile : whose breath Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie All corners of the world: kings, queens, and states, Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave, This viperous slander enters.
Enter Imogen, in Boy's Clothes.
Imo. I see a man's life is a tedious one: I have tired myself; and for two nights together Have made the ground my bed. I should be sick, But that my resolution helps me.- Milford, When from the mountain-top Pisanio show'd thee, Thou wast within a ken: 0 Jove! I think, Foundations fly the wretched : such, I mean, Where they should be relieved. Two beggars told me, I could not miss my way: will poor folks lie, That have afflictions on them; knowing 'tis
A punishment or trial? Yes; no wonder,
Nor the furious winter's rages :
Home art gone, and ta’en thy wages;
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.
Thoua rt past the tyrant's stroke,
Care no more to clothe and eat;
To thee the reed is as the oak :
Gui. Fear no more the lightning-flash,
Both. All lovers young, all lovers must
Consignt to thee, and come to dust.
Gui. No exorcisor harm thee !
And renowned be thy grave.
O thou goddess, Thou divine nature, how thyself thou blazon'st In these two princely boys! They are as gentle As zephyrs, blowing below the violet, Not wagging his sweet head: and yet as rough, Their royal blood enchafed, as the rudest wind, That by the top doth take the mountain pine, And make him stoop to the vale. 'Tis wonderful, That an invisible instinct should frame them, To royalty unlearn’d; honour untaught; Civility not seen from other; valour, That wildly grows in them, but yields a crop As if it had been sow’d.
+ Seal the same contract.
A ROUTED ARMY.
No blame be to you, sir; for all was lost,
I, in mine own woe charm’d, Could not find death where I did hear him groan; Nor feel him where he struck: being an ugly monster, 'Tis strange, he hides him in fresh cups, soft beds, Sweet words; or hath more ministers than we That draw his knives i’ the war.
Yes, sir, to Milford-Haven;
[Seeing the body.
H A MLET.
* This diminutive adjuration is derived from God's my pity.