Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave My heart into my mouth.
The bitter clamor of two eager tongues.
It comes to pass oft that a terrible oath, with a swaggering accent sharply twanged off, gives manhood more approbation than ever proof itself would have earned him.
There's no better sign of a brave mind than a hard hand.
But shall we wear these glories for a day? Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them?
I pray you bear me henceforth from the noise and rumour of the field, where I may think the remnant of my thoughts in peace, and part of this body and my soul with contemplation and devout desires.