Iach. 'Tis mine; and this will witness outwardly, As strongly as the conscience does within, To the madding of her lord.

Imo. Away! I do condemn mine ears, that have So long attended thee.

[Song.] Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,

And Phoebus ’gins arise,

His steeds to water at those springs

On chalic'd flowers that lies.

Act II. Scene III.

Imo.

-But if there be

Yet left in heaven as small a drop of pity As a wren's eye, fear'd gods, a part of it!

Act IV. Scene II.

Imo. Best draw my sword, and if mine enemy But fear the sword like me, he'll scarcely look on't.

Post. What fairies haunt this ground! a book?

O, rare one!

Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment
Nobler than it covers: let thy effects
So follow, to be most unlike our courtiers,
As good as promise.

Act V. Scene IV.