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The works of John Dryden, $c now first collected in eighteen volumes. $p Volume 07 by John Dryden
page 39 of 564 (06%)
_Gui._ Poison on her name!
Take my hand on't, that cormorant dowager
Will never rest, till she has all our heads
In her lap. I was at Bayonne with her,
When she, the king, and grisly d'Alva met.
Methinks, I see her listening now before me,
Marking the very motion of his beard,
His opening nostrils, and his dropping lids.
I hear him croak too to the gaping council,--
Fish for the great fish, take no care for frogs,
Cut off the poppy-heads, sir;--madam, charm
The winds but fast, the billows will be still[3].

_May._ But, sir, how comes it you should be thus warm,
Still pushing counsels when among your friends;
Yet, at the court, cautious, and cold as age,
Your voice, your eyes, your mien so different,
You seem to me two men?

_Gui._ The reason's plain.
Hot with my friends, because, the question given,
I start the judgment right, where others drag.
This is the effect of equal elements,
And atoms justly poised; nor should you wonder
More at the strength of body than of mind;
'Tis equally the same to see me plunge
Headlong into the Seine, all over armed,
And plow against the torrent to my point,
As 'twas to hear my judgment on the Germans,
This to another man would be a brag;
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