:24:02
She that herself will sliver and
disbranch from her material sap,
:24:04
perforce must wither,
and come to deadly use.
:24:08
No more! The text is foolish!
:24:11
Wisdom and goodness
to the vile seem vile,
:24:15
filths savour but themselves.
:24:19
What have you done?
Tigers, not daughters,
:24:23
what have you performed?
:24:26
Milk-liver'd man!
:24:28
That bear'st a cheek for blows,
a head for wrongs!
:24:32
Who hast not an eye discerning
thine honour from thy suffering.
:24:36
Where's thy drum? France spreads
his banners in our noiseless land.
:24:40
Whiles thou, a moral fool,
:24:44
sitt'st still, and criest:
<>
:24:46
See thyself, devil!
:24:49
Proper deformity seems not in
the fiend so horrid as in woman.
:24:59
- What news?
- My lord, the Duke of Cornwall's dead.
:25:04
That shows you're above, that our
nether crimes so speedily can venge!
:25:06
This letter, madam, craves a speedy
answer. 'Tis from your sister.
:25:10
I'll read, and answer.
:25:39
Why the King of France
so suddenly gone back?
:25:42
Something he left imperfect
in the state required his return.
:25:48
O thou good Kent, how shall I live
and work to match thy goodness?
:25:50
My life will be too short,
and every measure fail me.
:25:52
To be acknowledged, madam,
is overpaid.
:25:55
A century send forth!
:25:57
Search every acre
in the high-grown fields.