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Th' harmony of their tongues hath into bondage
Brought my too diligent ear. For several virtues
Have I liked several women. Never any
With so full soul but some defect in her
Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed
And put it to the foil. But you, O you,
So perfect and so peerless, are created
Of every creature’s best.
seduced by the sweet nothings they said to me. I’ve liked several women for their good qualities, but there was something wrong with each one that blotted her excellent qualities and cancelled them out. But with you it’s different. You’re perfect, without a rival in the world, made up of the best qualities of every creature.



     I do not know
One of my sex, no woman’s face remember—
Save, from my glass, mine own. Nor have I seen
More that I may call men than you, good friend,
And my dear father. How features are abroad
I am skill-less of, but, by my modesty,
The jewel in my dower, I would not wish
Any companion in the world but you,
Nor can imagination form a shape
Besides yourself to like of. But I prattle
Something too wildly, and my father’s precepts
I therein do forget.
I’ve never known any woman or seen a woman’s face—except my own in the mirror. And I’ve never met any men besides you and my father. I have no idea what people look like in other places, but I swear by my modesty, which I value above everything else, that I’d never want any companion in the world but you. I can’t even imagine one. But listen to me chattering like crazy, and father always told me not to.



    I am in my condition
A prince, Miranda—I do think, a king;
I would, not so!—and would no more endure
This wooden slavery than to suffer
The flesh-fly blow my mouth. Hear my soul speak.
The very instant that I saw you did
My heart fly to your service, there resides
To make me slave to it, and for your sake
Am I this patient log-man.
I’m a prince by birth, Miranda—maybe even a king now; though I wish I weren’t—and normally I wouldn’t put up with carrying these logs any more than I’d let flies breed in my mouth. But I’ll tell you something from my soul. The second I saw you, my heart rushed to serve you and be your slave, so here I am now, a patient log-man.

     Do you love me?
Do you love me?

O heaven, O earth, bear witness to this sound
And crown what I profess with kind event
Oh heaven, oh earth, witness what I’m about to say, and reward me if I tell the truth! If I’m lying, then

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The Tempest (No Fear Shakespeare)