1:09:05
I will say nothing.
1:09:09
Who's there?
1:09:10
A wise man and a fool.
1:09:14
Let the great gods that
keep this dreadful pudder
o'er our heads
1:09:18
find out their enemies now.
1:09:20
Tremble, thou wretch,
that hast within thee
1:09:22
undivulged crimes
unwhipped of justice:
1:09:25
Caitiff, to pieces shake,
that under covert
and convenient seeming
1:09:29
hast practis'd
on man's life.
1:09:31
Close pent-up guilts,
1:09:34
rive your concealing
continents,
1:09:36
and cry these dreadful
summoners grace.
1:09:43
I am a man
more sinn'd against
than sinning.
1:09:47
Gracious my lord,
1:09:49
hard by here is a hovel;
1:09:51
some friendship
will it lend you
'gainst the tempest.
1:09:56
My wits begin to turn.
1:10:01
Come on, my boy.
1:10:04
How dost thou, boy?
Art cold?
1:10:09
Am cold myself.
Where is this straw,
my fellow?
1:10:13
The art of our necessities
is strange
1:10:16
and can make
vile things precious.
1:10:20
Come, your hovel.
1:10:21
Poor fool and knave,
1:10:25
I have one part
in my heart that's
sorry yet for thee.
1:10:31
# He that has and a little tiny wit #
1:10:35
# With a heigh-ho the wind
And the rain #
1:10:38
# Must make content
With his fortunes fit #
1:10:42
# Though the rain it raineth
Every day ##
1:10:49
My lord. Good my lord, enter.
1:10:52
Thou think'st 'tis much
that this contentious storm
invades us to the skin;
1:10:56
so 'tis to thee,
1:10:58
but where the greater
malady is fix'd,
the lesser is scarce felt.