we were going to live. It only had 3,000 people, compared

Both fire from hence and chill extincture hath.

'For lo, his passion, but an art of craft,

Even there resolved my reason into tears;

There my white stole of chastity I daffed,

Shook off my sober guards and civil fears;

Appear to him as he to me appears,

All melting; though our drops this diff'rence bore:

His poisoned me, and mine did him restore.