Loves Labour Lost by William Shakespeare
page 63 of 128 (49%)
page 63 of 128 (49%)
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Bero. All hid, all hid, an old infant play, Like a demie God, here sit I in the skie, And wretched fooles secrets heedfully ore-eye. More Sacks to the myll. O heauens I haue my wish, Dumaine transform'd, foure Woodcocks in a dish Dum. O most diuine Kate Bero. O most prophane coxcombe Dum. By heauen the wonder of a mortall eye Bero. By earth she is not, corporall, there you lye Dum. Her Amber haires for foule hath amber coted Ber. An Amber coloured Rauen was well noted Dum. As vpright as the Cedar Ber. Stoope I say, her shoulder is with-child Dum. As faire as day Ber. I as some daies, but then no sunne must shine Dum. O that I had my wish? Lon. And I had mine |
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