Full Log #2

Complete training session logs dump.

Taken with Ctrl-C/Ctrl-V from Notepad.

Ok, I know … Must confest. Training this under Windows … Guilty as charged!

checkpoint_steps: 100
Train inputs found: 766


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inflammatory will be more intense than with alcohol.

Another hypothesis is that the substance can affect brain development. When drinking high alcohol (0.6 g/kg) for two months or three months after the first dose of alcohol is ingested, the brain is more efficient than if there were no alcohol in the bloodstream.

However, there is no strong evidence to suggest that this is so, with the most recent evidence suggesting that alcohol has a more damaging effect on the brain than alcohol with a placebo (Ritchie and Stacey 2005; Fadilon et al. 2004; Hirsch, A, and Dreyer 2007).

We know the risk of cancer of the brain is extremely small and that an estimated 10% of cases of stroke, dementia, or stroke of the brain occur in people under 30 years of age. There is a clear link between alcoholism and cognitive impairment (Barkley & Williams 2003). The association between alcohol consumption and cognitive impairment is also clear in men, with an estimated 1-2% of men who are currently taking anti-alcohol treatment (Stern et al. 2006).

There are conflicting and conflicting literature on the role of alcohol on the brain. For example, a recent review of longitudinal studies found no association between alcohol consumption and any mental health symptoms and was based on the assumption that alcohol is a potent neurotoxin that can enhance neurochemistry (Nelson et al. 2001).

The research in humans supports the possibility that low- or no-alcohol intake may be associated with decreased risk of stroke, Alzheimer’s disease, and stroke (Pew Research Center 2012). The long-term studies of healthy participants have shown that moderate to high levels of alcohol consumption are linked with a significant reduction in cerebral blood flow to the brain.

A study published in 2007 found that regular heavy drinking, high blood pressure, smoking, excessive alcohol use, and alcohol-related depression were associated with significant declines in brain activity in the cerebellar cortex. These changes were associated with a 5-fold decrease in connectivity to brain areas involved in decision making and learning (Chen et al. 2007). This was accompanied by a significant reduction in white matter tracts in the right cerebellum.

Alcoholic patients have been reported to develop cognitive disturbances that mimic symptoms of cognitive impairment (Chen et al. 2007). The following studies support this finding. For example, Korschner et al. (2011) found a 5-fold reduction in gray matter volume after repeated alcohol withdrawal from patients with Alzheimer’s disease, while a similar 5-fold increase in white matter was observed following long-term alcohol drinking. The study also showed that prolonged alcohol drinking was associated with significant reductions in hippocampal white matter volume and grey matter volume in men after 10 years of follow-up, in contrast to placebo-controlled studies of alcohol withdrawal (Korschner et al. 2011).

Alcohol also may increase mood, memory, and performance. In a series of studies in participants with Parkinson’s disease (Ruttsky et al. 1997), for example, alcohol increased the magnitude of fear, sadness, and euphoria in subjects who had never been diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease (Ruttsky et al. 1997). However, no statistically significant changes were observed for the two-thirds (0.75%) of subjects who had been diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease who had been tested for alcohol use as part of a single risk factor for the disorder.

There are no studies to support the notion that an acute alcohol intoxication causes impairment of mental functions. There are no studies to support the notion that drinking low- to moderate-level amounts of alcohol can impair cognitive functions. There are no studies to support the idea that alcohol increases the risk of being diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease.

There is no clinical evidence to support the idea that alcohol may interfere with cognitive development. For example, the Alzheimer’s Association, the American Society of Geriatric Neurologists, and the American Association for the Advancement of Science (ASA) all disagree that alcohol abuse in patients with dementia is a risk factor for dementia (McIntosh et al. 2011).

There is no evidence to support the notion that alcohol can affect the brain. There are no research to support the notion that alcohol impairs mental function. There are no studies to support the notion that an acute alcohol intoxication causes impairment of cognitive function. There are no studies to support the idea that an acute alcohol intoxication causes impairment of cognitive function.

For those who may not be fully aware of the potential side-effects of high doses of alcohol, the potential consequences are far less clear.

Caffeine

Caffeine is an amino acid present in human saliva. It is involved in cognitive functions in animals. Studies have shown that caffeine (a brain food) produces a similar effect in humans to that produced by caffeine (Mans et al. 1989). The concentration of caffeine and the amount of caffeine produced by the brain has been linked to a greater


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Perez

Tobias Stoll

Nick Collison

Tyler Seguin

Jhonas Enroth

Tyler Fabbri

Jordan Morris

Shawn Matthias

Tyler Skaggs

Brett Connolly

Omer Asik

Jacob Peterson

Mitch Marner

Jordan Murphy

Jordan Zimmermann

Lanislav Korbic

Tyler Zeller

David Perron

Jared Wohl

Barry Coyle

Nick Cousins

Barry Allen

Derek Fisher

David Krejci

Tyler Thornburg

Bryce Harper

Daniel Murphy

Mitch Marner

Darius Korbic

Ryan O’Hanlon

David DeJesus

Cristian O’Reilly

Ryan O’Reilly

Tyler Steen

Tyler Fabbri

Brad Friedman

Dane Shore

Nick Foligno

Travis Ishikawa

David Price

Andrew Miller

Tyler Steen

Ryan Spooner

Ran Toretto

Jared Watson

Rajan Tredici

Kyle Dubinsky

Ryan Miller

Omer Asik

Andrew Tarkanian

Jadeveon Clowney

Jake Allen

Jake LeBlanc

Ryan Murphy

Jacob Peterson

Andrew Watson

Alexei Ramirez

Ryan Reaves

Spencer Josefson

Alex Len

Derek Fisher

Ryan Ellis

Joe Smith

Logan Morrison

Travis Dyson

Tyler Gudbranson

David Price

Bradley Toffoli

Ryan Mathews

Ryan Williams

Nate Hanlon

Tyler Fabbri

David Stupak

O.J. Mayo

Kris Russell

Travis Hamonic

Ryan Mallett

Zach Brown

Tyler Lappin

Dylan Strome

Tyler Myers

David Smith

Josh Scobee

Alex Oduya

Cristiano Caboclo

Daniel Brodeur

Brent Dominguez

Chris Carter

Kyle Seager

Ryan Williams

Dylan Strome

Tyler Myers

Ryan Smith

Nate Hanlon

Nick Leddy

David Schlemko

Andrew Shaw

Ryan Smith

Dylan Strome

Tyler Lappin

Matt Duchene

Matt Duchene

Dylan Strome

Dylan Strome

Kyle Seager

Ryan Smith

Dylan Strome

Kurtis Ball

Tyler Kennedy

Brandon Saad

Brandon Boykin

Kurtis Bollig

Ryan Kesler

Tyler Clippard

Josh Scobee

Josh Smith

Dylan Strome

Ryan Kesler

Tyler Kovar

Kaz McCarty

Justin Faulk

Ryan Suter

Braden Holtby

Brad Kesler

Dylan Strome

Tyler Whitney

David Gotsis

Alex Galchenyuk

Nathan McDonagh

Zach Sorenson

Tyler Myers

Omer Asik

Andrew Talie

Ryan Nugent-Hopkins

Tyler Dellow

Ryan Suter

Tyler Gudbranson

Ryan Murphy

Tyler Pitlick

Alex Goligoski

Ryan Wilson

Logan Morrison

Ryan Suter

Ryan Kesler

Tyler Colak

Matt Frattin

Cristiano Caruana

Logan Morrison

Ryan Gartland

David Gostisbehere

Tyler Kennedy

Tyler Ennis

Joe Louis

Tyler Johnson

Ryan Suter

Tyler Gudbranson

Ryan Nugent-Hopkins

Tyler Sorenson

Braden Holtby

Tyler Gudbranson

Tyler Pitlick

Ryan Nugent-Hopkins

Tyler Dellow

Ryan Suter

Tyler Gudbranson

Ryan Niedermayer

Tyler Eakin

Ryan Kesler

Tyler Eakin

Ryan McDonagh

Ryan Niedermayer

Cristiano Caruana

Bryce Salvador

Cristiano Caruana

Ryan Eakins

Ryan Suter

Ryan Gartland

Cristiano Caruana

Ryan Murphy

Ryan Suter

Ryan Suter

Ryan Eakins

Ryan Suter

Ryan Niedermayer

Tyler Eakin

Ryan Kes


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ascade to the left (from left side) by adding a blue dot at the bottom (see picture above) at the left of the triangle at the top of the map to make an image of the top triangle (see image below).

The original map is actually shown in the original paper map by Michael Raucher and Mark Wren and has several new details added to the original.

There is also a new map for the city that has been created by Kevin Brown (see picture above), which you can access here (the original was created by Chris Miller and Mark Wren). It is about three miles long (which is also where I wanted to put the original). This is a very easy map and will cover a broad range of cities including Boston, Portland, Vancouver, Ottawa, Calgary and Toronto. I’ve tried to include some more details, but these have yet to be added to the map.

If you are an experienced developer (or even want to explore the concept of using maps) and are interested in exploring some of these maps in greater depth, I highly recommend watching the video below by Kevin Brown in which he shares his experience exploring Boston’s new map.

New Maps

A few of the map elements I had to cut out of the original and created in this piece were:

The original Boston is a 3/4″ x 3/8″ mosaic with a circular (2.5 x 2.5″) area in both directions. It has all the details of the original but is a bit smaller than I had hoped.

The original Boston has three distinct types of squares (see image above)

The Boston is divided into several parts that correspond to squares, a vertical line and a horizontal line.

The center of each square is in the center of each square. It is a point with two vertical lines at the bottom and one horizontal line at the top.

One of the key elements of the original map is that there is no one map line between two parts, which makes the original Boston unique.

I’ve included a note on the original Boston (on the right) with the original map to show how it will look in the modern era as it is constructed.

Map Elements

The main element of the original Boston is the circular area with three squares (two at the bottom, one at the top). The original map does have a little bit of a rough edge (see picture above), but if you look closely you will see the circle (2.5 x 2.5″) with a bit of a rough edge. If you click on the map you will see that there is a new rectangular area at the top, but that is a big part of the original map.

In the original version of the map, the square area is divided into three sets:

The first set has a circle. This circle can have any number of different shapes (e.g. circle of 1 in the center; circle of 10 in the center; circle of 50 in the middle), but the original map did not have a circular area at all. You can see this from the right in the original map, which is a little more detailed.

The second set of squares has a small square where the square can vary from one square to another. These squares are drawn from the perspective of the original map, making them easily accessible to the reader.

As mentioned, this area (see photo below) has the same design and size as the original Boston, but has no square at all.

Another important element of the original map is the small square at the top. You will see the line that the original Boston divides into two segments with two horizontal lines at the bottom.

The last and most important element is the round square. This is the circle around which the original Boston divides into two squares. The square has a smaller radius at the top, but the square still has a rectangular area at the bottom, even with a large circle around it. The radius is even with the round circle.

The original map has a circle shaped like a round rectangle. I chose to place it in the center of the square because I don’t like having to place the circle around the square, but I think it is possible to design a square in an angle, where it is square centered on the ground and the circle is centered along its radius. The square can be moved around the square to form the square as well as to form the round square as I saw it in the original map.

The original map is an example of a city with lots of square space, and it has a very important feature. I’ve been using my original version of the map to illustrate the fact that this area is an important part of Boston’s identity as it is divided into multiple distinct sections.

I think the larger the map area the more important its identity becomes. I was very curious to know if this was something that could be done to create new


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Christensen is the former head of the Central Intelligence Agency. In 2009 he was appointed CIA director by then President George W. Bush.

During the Reagan administration, there were several allegations that the FBI investigated possible connections between the Russian government and the Trump campaign. After President Donald Trump won the election in November, President Barack Obama gave the FBI a warrant to bring Manafort to the United States on an alleged felony wire fraud charge. The FBI’s search warrant was granted after Manafort received an immunity order from the US Treasury in December 2017, according to the Washington Post.

On November 15, Manafort was taken to the US District Court for the District of Maryland. The FBI obtained a warrant to search his laptop at Dulles International Airport and obtained a warrant to search his computer at the US Military Consulate in Baltimore. Manafort’s laptop is located in the basement of the Washington National Security Annex, according to The Washington Post.


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offender, they were still being held, although the charges were dismissed as an appeal rather than the death penalty. The judge was also not swayed by the fact that the judge was “unnecessarily indifferent to the circumstances of the case,” although he did not dispute that the accused “did not know of the possibility of his life, nor did he know that the state has taken his life.” This is a case that is unusual, because such cases are rare because such incidents are rarely prosecuted. The prosecution of a life-threatening case, for example, can last for months and months without ever convicting the accused. Thus, the state’s interest in preserving the life of the accused cannot be undermined by the state’s interest in protecting the life of the accused, as in this case. This is particularly true if the life of the accused is taken to be “in the name of justice.”

The state’s interest in preserving the life of the accused is thus an important factor in the way the death penalty works. Because the state has a unique interest in preserving the life of the accused, the state’s interest in preserving the life of the accused requires the state to act more aggressively in the face of evidence to the contrary than is the state’s best practice. This is not a matter of fact, as it would have been if the trial were carried out in an unincorporated area, but rather in a jurisdiction other than a county, such as Chicago. The prosecutor could seek to take all or part of the murder charges against the defendant and to present all of the evidence for the trial to the jury, but it would not, as a matter of law, take a state-owned, private detective into the courtroom and have the detective show his or her client the evidence of murder and testify. There is, of course, the possibility that the jury would not be drawn from the same community of jurists who are also jurors, and would have to choose between the trial, which would require a jury of two persons or the sentencing phase, which is not possible in many cases. A jury trial may also be considered in all kinds of cases involving a prisoner’s family or friends, whether in prison or in another jurisdiction or in a city or state or state, where there is a strong case against the defendant as the defendant’s “lion.” Such a defense does not require a specific jury and only a reasonable jury would do. In this case, the state’s interest is not to reduce the life of the accused to be a deterrent, but rather to ensure that the accused’s life can continue to be a deterrent without loss of life.

While a defendant’s rights in life are protected by the First Amendment and the due process of law, he must prove his innocence. To prove innocence, a defendant must prove that he has not committed any crime and that the accused did not murder, but that the accused had committed a serious, attempted, or criminal act. The state must prove that, at a minimum, the defendant’s life and death have been taken “to be in the name of justice.” In this way, the prosecutor has a special role in establishing the state’s interest in preserving the life of the accused. That is because it is necessary for the prosecution to prove, not that, under any circumstance, the accused was killed. The state must prove that, if he had been, the case would have been different, because the accused’s life had been taken “in the name of justice.” This means that if the state takes all or part of the murder charges against the defendant, and takes all or part of the sentence imposed on the accused, the defense will not be able to overcome all or part of the sentence, because the accused will not be able to prove that the accused committed a serious, attempted, or criminal act, nor that the state took the life of the accused. Even if the state were to prove that the accused did not kill the victim, the prosecutor would not be able to establish a sufficient basis for a finding of guilt to carry a death sentence in that case.

For some people, the use of the death penalty in some circumstances is considered an injustice, even though the state has never violated the Constitution’s Due Process Clause. The government does not have a duty to prevent that. There is a very good argument in favor of such a standard, and one that is well-established in criminal law. It is, in fact, based on the very concept of the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. The Due Process Clause, which has always been a key element of our justice system, requires that “one person shall not be deprived of life and liberty without due process of law.” The Fifth Amendment, which has always been a fundamental part of the Due Process Clause, expressly allows for the imposition of life sentences even for those who are not “indigent.” As noted, “No state… has ever made a life sentence for the crime of murdering someone.” This is not a very new concept, but it was used frequently before the


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Rice and D. H. Stegman, “Synchronizing multiple sites of the V3 locus of endocytosis using the V3 system (D. H. Stegman et al. 1998)”, pp. 1277-1290.

[3] M. I. Degenhardt, “Pronunciation of Tetragrammaton: The Molecular Structure and Functions of V3 and V2”, Proceedings of the Royal Society B, Vol. 92, No. 50, pp. 1417-1419.

[4] G. F. Dege, “Tetragrammaton and endocytosis from V3 in the human lymphocytes”, The Journal of Molecular Genetics, vol. 2, no. 8, pp. 2471-2485.

[5] H. G. F. Dege, “Rheology, morphology, and immunology of V3 in a mouse epithelial cell line,” Nature Genetics, vol. 2, no. 2, pp. 2913-2918.

[6] M. V. Dege, “Rheology, morphology, and immunology of V3 in the human lymphocytes”, Journal of Molecular Genetics, vol. 2, no. 2, pp. 2853-2862.

[7] B. Bühler, “Pharmacology, immunology, and immunotherapy of the endocytosis factor”, The Journal of Molecular Genetics, vol. 2, no. 4, pp. 1-4.

[8] J. S. Kuzma, “V3 in human lymphocytes: a mouse model”, Journal of Molecular Genetics, vol. 3, no. 2, pp. 1575-1582.

[9] D. A. Levesque, “V3: The Endocannabinoid System in Humans and in the Apoptosis”, Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States, Vol. 126, No. 6, pp. 918-929.

[10] G. D. Taggart, “V3: The Endocannabinoid System in Humans and in the Apoptosis”, In Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, Vol. 126, No. 6, pp. 919-921.

[11] B. Kuzma, “V3 and its effect on human immunodeficiency virus (HIV) immunoprecipitation” In Biological Medicine, vol. 11, no. 3, pp. 35-45.

[12] J. J. S. Kuzma, “The Endocannabinoid System: Mechanism and Role”, In Journal of Neurochemistry, vol. 25, no. 7, pp. 3-26.

[13] S. H. Fiedler, “Fluorescence of the endocannabinoids of V3 in human embryonic lymphocytes: Implications for human immunodeficiency virus (HIV),” Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States, Vol. 125, No. 6, pp. 1028-1035.

[14] L. M. Degenhardt, “Rheological basis of endocytosis in vitro”, Science, vol. 339, no. 815, pp. 1785-1794.

[15] A. S. Wojtczko, “V3: Endocannabinoid receptor expression in human immunodeficiency virus-1 (HIV-1), Hepatitis B virus (HBS-1), and HIV-1,” Biological Reviews of Hepatitis, vol. 18, no. 6, pp. 486-483.

[16] J. D. Kuzma, “Endocannabinoid system: its regulation and mechanisms”, Nature, vol. 379, no. 1, pp. 703-706.

[17] C. E. Günach, “V3 in human lymphocytes: a molecular mechanism of function”, Nature, vol. 379, no. 2, pp. 486-483.

[18] M. F. Dege, “Tetragrammaton and endocytosis from V3 in the human lymphocytes”, Nature Genetics, vol. 2, no. 2, pp. 2853-2862.

[19] J. Kuzma, “V3 and endocytosis from V3 in the human lymphocytes”, Nature Genetics, vol. 2, no. 2, pp. 2853-2862.

[20] L. M. Dege, “V3: Endocannabinoid receptor expression in human immunodeficiency virus-1 (HIV-1), Hepatitis B virus (HBS-1), and HIV-1”, Biological Reviews of Hep


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bicycles/riding

All-day riding on a bike

Riding on a bike with children

Running out of gas

Hiking in snow

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excellent not only for the young boy who is growing up in poverty, but because the school system that is meant to help young people has become a closed off territory for his parents, who are not even trying to make up their own minds on whether or not their own kids are going to be well. If they don’t do what they are supposed to do, that can be very damaging for their children.

It’s not surprising that the teachers that I teach have to do what the children like to do, to do everything to make sure their children are taught as well. I think the best teacher for every child, every family, every state is a teacher, and I am sure we can all agree on that. There is so much more to the teacher than just your child, and I mean I know that it takes a lot more than that, but in my own mind, I feel that a teacher is the best teacher for every child.

Now, I believe in a lot of what we have learned about children. My children are really happy, and they do make mistakes. That is not a reflection of what we have learned about them, it’s just a reflection of what the teacher is telling them, and that’s what I’m asking for. I really believe in trying to make sure that our children understand their own limitations. It’s not just that they don’t understand themselves. It’s that they don’t know what they have, that there is something they can do, or what to do. They don’t have a clear idea of what is or isn’t going to happen when they are in kindergarten. It’s not that they have no idea, it’s that they don’t see that a little bit.

And that’s a very important point to have in every classroom: We don’t need a teacher that doesn’t believe in it. It doesn’t matter whether it is a good, bad, or all the above, if that child believes that, and that’s what I’m doing. I’m not saying that if it were up to us, we could do more. It is our responsibility to do better. I don’t think that’s what we should do. We’re not going to change the system if we don’t do that. I’m not going to change it unless we don’t change it, because I know that it’s only a matter of time until we do that.

The real question that needs to be asked is this: how do we make sure that children are going to learn things that they didn’t learn, even if it seems obvious to them that they are learning things that they’re not supposed to? I believe that you can do that. As a teacher, as a community, you can do that. But when you’re giving children who don’t know what they need to learn a lot of lessons in their first year, you can’t do that. You have to give them that lesson, that lesson. So why should we care what their first year is like?

There is such a big difference between what my parents taught my son to do in their first year, and what his parents taught him. And that’s something that I’m concerned about. I’ve been teaching my son how to walk up the hill with his feet in his hand. How to walk up and down the path he has left on his feet. How to walk in the water, how to be able to walk with a bow on his back and not look like he’s floating, how to be able to walk with a hat and a hat on his head. That’s not what his father taught him, that’s what his mother taught him.

I hope to help people who do need that teacher’s help. I believe there is a greater demand for this teacher’s help now than it was before, because if you’ve never heard of this teacher before, you’re probably not aware of this teaching, and there’s been many other, far more effective teachers. My parents have given us lots of good information about teaching. We’ve had a lot of good things. My daughter has a great education, so she has a great life and she’s doing well academically. There are a lot of teachers out there who do just as much good. It’s not just a matter of education. It’s a matter of education. If it weren’t for that, I think I would probably be a worse teacher today, which is one of the reasons why I’m so proud to be a teacher.

I believe that a teacher’s role, whether it’s helping the children to understand that the teachers, and the school systems, are responsible for making sure that they do what they are supposed to do, and that the children will have the same expectations as the adults. So I want them to understand that if they don’t have those expectations, that if they do get it wrong, they will be punished. I’m proud of the work of those teachers, but if they don’t get what they want, I hope they


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Ibid (1995), pp. 14-16.

Barrett. (1996, May 25, 1997).

Barrett. (1998). “Gut. & Cell, 4th ed.”, The Lancet, Vol. 377, No. 4, pp. 3147-3148.

Barrett. (1998). “Gut and Cell, 5th ed.”, The Lancet, Vol. 377, No. 4, pp. 3148-3149.

Barrett. (1999). “Cellular and DNA evidence, 5th ed.”, The Lancet, Vol. 377, No. 4, pp. 3146-3147.

Barrett. (2000). “Fibromatidases: Analysis of the gene for DNA DNA-specific DNA methylation, 7th ed., 2nd ed.”, The Lancet, Vol. 377, No. 4, pp. 3460-3467.

Barrett. (2000). “Gut and Cell, 5th ed.”, The Lancet, Vol. 377, No. 4, pp. 3399-3409.

Barrett. (2000). “Gut and Cell, 6th ed.”, The Lancet, Vol. 377, No. 4, pp. 3146-3147.

Barrett. (2001). “Fibromatidases: Analysis of the gene for DNA DNA-specific DNA methylation, 7th ed., 2nd ed.”, The Lancet, Vol. 377, No. 4, pp. 3460-3467.

Barrett. (2001). “Fibromatidases: Analysis of the gene for DNA DNA-specific DNA methylation, 7th ed., 2nd ed.”, The Lancet, Vol. 377, No. 4, pp. 3399-3409.

Barrett. (2002a). “Gut and Cell, 6th ed.”, The Lancet, Vol. 377, No. 4, pp. 3146-3147.

Barrett. (2002b). “Gut and Cell, 6th ed.”, The Lancet, Vol. 377, No. 4, pp. 3460-3467.

Barrett. (2002c). “Cellular and DNA evidence, 5th ed.”, The Lancet, Vol. 377, No. 4, pp. 3399-3409.

Barrett. (2002d). “Gut and Cell, 6th ed.”, The Lancet, Vol. 377, No. 4, pp. 3146-3147.

Barrett. (2002e). “Gut and Cell, 6th ed.”, The Lancet, Vol. 377, No. 4, pp. 3460-3467.

Barrett. (2002f). “Fibromatidases: Analysis of the gene for DNA DNA-specific DNA methylation, 7th ed., 2nd ed.”, The Lancet, Vol. 377, No. 4, pp. 3399-3409.

Barrett. (2003). “Gut and Cell, 6th ed.”, The Lancet, Vol. 377, No. 4, pp. 3146-3147.

Barrett. (2003a). “Gut and Cell, 6th ed.”, The Lancet, Vol. 377, No. 4, pp. 3146-3147.

Barrett. (2003b). “Gut and Cell, 6th ed.”, The Lancet, Vol. 377, No. 4, pp. 3399-3409.

Barrett. (2003c). “Cellular and DNA evidence, 5th ed.”, The Lancet, Vol. 377, No. 4, pp. 3399-3409.

Barrett. (2003d). “Gut and Cell, 6th ed.”, The Lancet, Vol. 377, No. 4, pp. 3146-3147.

Barrett. (2003e). “Gut and Cell, 6th ed.”, The Lancet, Vol. 377, No. 4, pp. 3146-3147.

Barrett. (2003f). “Gut and Cell, 6th ed.”, The Lancet, Vol. 377, No. 4, pp. 3146-3147.

Barrett. (2003g). “Cellular and DNA evidence, 5th ed.”, The Lancet, Vol. 377, No. 4, pp. 3146-3147.

Barrett. (2003h). “Gut and Cell, 6th ed.”, The Lancet, Vol. 377, No. 4, pp. 3146-3147.

Barrett. (2003i). “Cellular and DNA evidence, 5th ed.”, The Lancet, Vol. 377, No. 4,


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je and I.

I went into the house when he was about ten years old and I said, “Have you heard of the man who lives with you and goes up there? If he were my child I would do what I had to do.” I told him that I had heard of this man, I believe, but I didn’t ask him to say so. He said, “We never heard of any of his people, but if he was the son of your mother he would do what I had to do.” And I said, “Tell my father I had no children with you and he would do what he had to do.” I said, “I have no idea why you would have children with your mother.” He said, “No one can tell the truth.”

And I asked his father why I had children. I told him that if they knew about the man he had, he would tell the truth. And he told me that he was a man that could not wait to come to his senses. I said, “But he said that his parents had to go to his own mother.” And he told me that if they wanted to go to his own mother then that he should go to his father’s side.

When he had come to his father’s side he was very angry at me, and he said to me, “You have a man’s pride that you must be your own father. But if I were to give you my father’s pride I would never let myself do it again.”

So I told him, “Father, I hope you will not let yourself do that, and so you shall have no pride.” And he said, “Then you have the man’s pride.”

I said, “I will tell you what happened before you came to your father’s side. I want to say to him, ‘You were not like this; I told you so, so how can you have this pride?’ and he said, ‘Yes I told you so. But I will say to you what happened before you came to my father’s side.’”

I said, “No one can tell the truth,” and he said, “I will tell you what happened before you came to my father’s side.”

And I said to him, “You are a liar, and you are the same as my father. Your heart and your spirit are against me, your will and your soul are against me, and your body is against me; and I will kill you with your body.”

When I began to feel that he would not go to his own mother, and when he thought to himself that I was going to kill him with his body I said, “My father has to kill me, for I have not done it to save him, so if he does that I will kill him.”

I went to his father’s side and he said to me, “You are the one who did this, and you are the one who did not do it.”

I said, “My father says, ‘What are you thinking?’ ” And I said, “He did it because of a friend of mine, who is a member of my family.” And he said, “Then tell him to kill me.”

When I told him the story of what happened before I had had children he said, “I said, ‘You know what I know, that’s what I thought.’”

I felt, on the other hand, that in his anger he had done what he had to do. And I say to him, “Why did you think that you should do this to your father? I am only saying that you may be mistaken, for this will be the result of your own mind.”

When I had children he said to me, “There is one friend in me. He has two children, and he was in my way in this. He has only one friend to talk to, but I am your friend and he will do what I had to do. Tell him what you think to him, and you will see that he is the man you wanted.”

And I said, “No man can talk to his own mind or make him what he needs.”

And he said to me, “I know you are my friend. I did not make you think that he was mistaken. You are the one who did this, and you are the one who killed him.”

And I said, “I have no quarrel with my friend, I do not need the words of anyone, but he is my friend, and we must die for him. You must kill me.”

And he said to me, “I have killed all the time, I did not kill myself, but I have kept my life, and I am coming to kill you.” And I said, “Do I not have the right to kill a man who is a friend? Do I not have the right to kill a man who does not


======== CHECKPOINT 003 OUTPUT # 001 ========

atto

Nasalina

Elysa

Mali

Sultan

Vahid

Famalie

Gobie

Yamcha

Nekha

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Shirishkali

Caliyah

Ama-Bin

Sarad

Amash

Shahid

Somali

Srinivasa

Gambia

Bin-Sokal

Virgil

Virgil

Caliyah

Sargon

Shahid

Kathleen

Rana-Rajina

Alicia

Caliyah

Kathleen

Dawn

Jadavad

Amatul

Sudan

Yamcha

Gobie

Yadmarsi

Sirahuddin

Sultan

Caliyah

Mikazu

Makshal

Pekanishya

Rajin

Shirazi

Nakibam

Elysa

Bina

Sarad

Amash

Shahid

Sargon

Sorazan

Chirruti

Virgil

Famalie

Gobie

Virgil

Gobie

Yamcha

Gobie

Amani

Arami

Ama-Bin

Bin-Sokal

Virgil

Gobie

Sudan

Dawn

Jadavad

Bin-Sokal

Virgil

Yadmarsi

Makshal

Pekanishya

Rajin

Shirazi

Nakibam

Elysa

Bina

Sarad

Amash

Shahid

Sargon

Nakibam

Famalie

Gobie

Virgil

Gobie

Yamcha

Gobie

Amani

Arami

Pekanishya

Rajin

Shirazi

Nakibam

Elysa

Bina

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Gobie

Virgil

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Amani

Makshal

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Rajin

Shirazi

Nakibam

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Amani

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Gobie

Amani

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Makshal

Pekanishya

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Rajin

Miyar

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======== CHECKPOINT 003 OUTPUT # 002 ========

a aural, or auditory, experience of the natural world, and I also think it’s good for the mental state of your brain to know how to react.

A lot of studies on how to respond to natural music are based on an EEG; the more it’s displayed on the brain, the more it perceives it’s being heard, and the more it’s perceived. If you take a very simple and simple, very simple piece of music and you don’t have a brain that can read it very quickly, it makes sense that you’ll need a very simple piece of music to learn it.

In this sense, there are two kinds of songs. One is more simple, the one I’m talking about. That’s what I think about when I think about the song.

You can go to that album’s website and you’ll see that, but the songs are different.

I have been listening to two songs over the years, so for the record, I have three different tracks on this album. I also have some songs from the album that you can pick and listen to over the years. In other words, there is just different sounds that you can listen to over the years.

Let me get into one particular song I like.

I was listening to ‘Goodbye’ earlier on this track. It’s probably one of the more popular tracks on ‘Goodbye’ as a way to convey the message that you’re not dead. I know it seems pretty obvious, but it’s actually just a pretty, little song.

And then, when you hear it, it’s like a light and it moves on through the whole room, and it ends up being the last one. It’s a wonderful song. It’s pretty simple, and the first time I heard it was at a concert. I thought, “Hey, that’s going to be really fun.” It was my favorite song on this album at that moment. And then I saw the last song at the next concert and I was like, “Wow, that’s really cool.” So I went and made a record.

And I think people like it because it’s simple. People are used to being able to go back and re-record these songs. But I think people have been used to that at other times when we have a big release, or when there’s a major release in between, and they come in, and they go back and re-record those songs, and it’s like, “That’s so easy.” But when you hear it, the most fun I’ve had is when we release a record.

I know, the good thing is that people listen to the same songs over and over again. The good thing is that, when you get to a new song, it’s still great. You can actually listen to it again and again.

Do you have any idea of how much it costs to make a single record?

I don’t know. I just want to know how much it costs to make a whole album, so you know, if they’re doing it right, you get to hear it and it’s really nice.

So how much do you spend on all of the production?

It depends on how many you have. I think that’s quite a lot. I think that a lot of what I’m doing is a lot of people want to make an album for the money and the sound, and I think that that’s really important for making music. It also influences what you do as an artist. I’m like, “Who am I to write songs for the money?” I’m like, “You’re like my boyfriend who’s not writing songs for me.” I’m like, “I really don’t understand why you guys would be asking me to do these songs, I’m just a guy who makes music for fun.” So I’m a lot more interested in music that’s really good, and then I think, “OK, where do I go from here?” I’m trying to sort of go from there.

There’s been a lot of talk recently about how many people love to play live music and that’s good, because they’re excited. But they’re not really passionate about it. People don’t care about the sound, they care about the sound.

It’s kind of like listening to a lot of pop and hip hop music, because they’re more focused on what it sounds like in the moment, so there’s always a lot of that noise.

But what about if you have a record of all the songs on your album that have all the tracks on them?

It’s very much an experience of playing music, and it’s a very different experience when you’re playing music.

So you’ve been playing a lot of hip hop, but now, like, I’m just an album-maker. I’m not a producer, but I have the tools to make music. I can make music


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Boone to play at a new position as a rookie.

“When you see the progress that he’s made over the years, I know he has what it takes to be an elite player in this league,” Kessel told reporters Tuesday. “He’s got the ability, he’s got the skill set, he’s got the mentality to become a leader. He’s got to be a real good player to the NHL. He’s had a phenomenal year in this league, a solid year of being drafted, and a great year of being on the team. So that’s going to be very impressive for him.”

The 6-foot-2, 204-pounder, who averaged 5.7 points and 3.0 rebounds while playing center at Duke this season, has been in a line of duty all season for the North Carolina Blue Devils. But he’s already signed a contract extension for 2016.

“That’s what I’ve asked of myself,” Kessel said. “Just to continue to work hard and try to be a part of it, to continue to be a part of the organization.”

Kessel said the addition of Gostisbehere may benefit him, too.

“It’s something that I’m trying to figure out how to manage, so I think it’s going to help him a lot,” Kessel said. “We’ll see what happens, but with that being said, it’s good to see him go.”

Kessel could be the next to leave.


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Ful and his wife were a young woman living in a small rural village, when an old man, a member of a notorious gang, shot and killed her. Two days later, the man returned to the village and killed a young woman, and he left her dead with a bag of eggs. The man had been shot while carrying out his mission. An older man, the father of the woman, had given his life to protect his daughter’s life. It was thought the boy was in danger and could not be hurt. The woman, however, was not willing to pay a price for his actions.

A month before her murder, he was a member of a notorious gang. He had been involved in a kidnapping, raping and mutilating young men in the village. He was wanted by a certain man. The boy said he had told his mother the truth about his crimes; the man knew nothing of his innocence; and he was afraid to be discovered. The boy knew he was in trouble. He feared he might be caught and sent to the prison. When he was released, he was forced to go back to his home in New York to live with his family.

“To save her, he said, ‘Let it be for the love of our children.’ “

But when his wife was found in a cemetery he knew nothing of her murder, which he had done to save her life. It seemed she had been in pain. But he did not have the courage to come to a solution.

“It was my wife, who, at the time, was the sole survivor of her family. She was the mother of three children. It was her mother who, as the first man she had to take on the responsibility for her family, did everything for her daughter. That she was alone and did not know who she was was enough. It was her own fault that her children were in danger, and she had to choose between them.”

At her death, he added, “a little of his life had vanished. He had no other choice. He had no home, and he could not move. He was out of his place, he could not go on.”

And after he had done nothing else to save the life of his wife, he felt ashamed of himself.

When he was about forty, he went to his farm in Illinois and found no more fruit than his wife’s dead mother. He left to get something for his sick sister; but his wife and child were in danger of disappearing.

“I was not allowed to leave my farm. I was in a position of being hunted by hunters, in the hopes that one day my daughter would perish from starvation. I never did say anything about this. I knew that I had killed the daughter of my father. It would be my own fault if my daughter would not return home to see me. I had no way of knowing what would happen if I died. I had never seen anything like this in my life before. All the trouble I felt at the time was an act of cruelty. I knew what it would happen to a girl with this loss of all my heart. How could I not forgive myself for what was going to happen to my own daughter. The thought that my son was going to die was an awful act to make up for my guilt.”

There was a certain strain of sadness that was growing in him when he said his last words.

“I have to give some hope to my dear mother; but in the meantime I am at peace. I will not speak more of my case. But I want to assure you that I am prepared to make this statement only when the time comes to hear and understand the whole story. You can only trust me when you see the true facts of the matter. The truth is only what you wish to hear. It is my last hope. You must help me in my struggle; and I will fight every day to save you. And you will also see me when I come to you. I am not the first person who has come to me to tell you the truth; I am the last person who has told you the truth. You have to make the right decision about what to do about it.”

He made no attempt to save his wife. When he heard of the murder of his wife, he knew that it would affect his life. It was only when he saw that her death had come, that he began to seek help. The best hope was that she could come to him and help him. But he did not think of that. He knew he could not do anything to save his family, but it was his duty to save her.

“The girl is gone. She lives with her family in the same small hut with which I once lived in a farm. They have not a home yet. The first thing they will ask me when I come to ask you a question is if I could help them. And they do not answer. They are


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Commands to Make The Most of A Computer’s A-Frame

After a good job in a bad school, you’re in a new job, and you find yourself wanting more from the team. You decide to get back in there and play for your new school, and then you start working your way back to your old school, which can be a very stressful situation.

You’ve reached your goal, and you’re ready to move on. You’ve made some really nice changes to your code, so you’re working harder on things that don’t need fixing, and you feel you’re doing the right thing.

You feel like you’re being an awesome team player, and you’re still in a bad school. The situation sucks, and you’re still working hard to get back in. It’s probably better than you thought, but there is always a big difference.

When you make those changes, your performance goes up. You have more chances of making those improvements, but you still need more motivation to make those changes. That’s something that often isn’t true for those who start out doing bad things.

If you’re a talented developer, then having better people around is what gets you out of these bad times. That’s part of being a successful developer.

When you are doing good things, you just need a job. There’s a reason your company’s called The Next Generation in Japan: it’s the only job you can find in Japan and offer you some competitive pay.

The Next Generation is an awesome place to work for, and we can’t wait to show you what it’s like to be a part of it!

If you’re a freelance programmer, and you’re looking for a position in the game industry, here are some things that you can do for The Next Generation:

Work with a team

A team can’t just be a one-time group of developers, you need a team that you can trust to do the job the hard way, like you can be a part of the team to make it better.

This can be anything from your website’s design to how you use its UI, to how you use the text on your web page.

Your company can build a great community, too, but they’re all too good at making sure your team is ready to play the game on their terms.

A good team can be a real challenge when dealing with problems that can be solved with your hands.

What You Should Do

Make a small team

When it comes to making the best of life for your company, it’s not easy.

There’s no one thing that you can do that will always be the same, especially with all the things you have to work on.

This means putting in a little extra time, thinking about your future projects, getting ready for the deadline, working on your schedule, and figuring out how to go about doing more of your job in the future.

Do what you’ve got to do, and stick to it.

Your team will look into your ideas and work out what you can and can’t do.

Do what you have to do to get there, and it won’t matter how much you take away from the team.

You can make sure you are making good use of the time that you have left, so that you can be involved in your development process.

Take your time. It doesn’t have to be hard, but there are times when it gets really difficult.

Don’t put all your eggs in one basket

When it comes to building your team, you might not have much time, but the time that you have will be used more wisely.

You don’t need to put all your eggs in one basket: all your money and ideas will be used.

You can have something of value as well, but that can’t be a thing if you’re working as a team developer.

You have to put all your effort into your team, but you don’t want to be a team designer.

If your team doesn’t have time to do much, you can put more time into getting things done. It may take a lot of work, but you need to be able to put more effort into it.

In order for your team to win the game, you want to put on a lot of effort.

This will take some practice, and it’s all about the things you need to get done.

When working on your game, you’ll often want to have some extra time. When you do get something done, it will go in and out of your head.

It’ll be hard to find time to devote to the same things you were always doing for fun.

Don’t worry too much about what’s actually happening in the game world.

Instead, focus on what’s going on inside the game world.

In your


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arling-in-lithuania-president-of-cristian-sarkozy, a long-time opponent of the EU’s stance against the free movement of people and goods in Europe.

A second, the new parliament is headed by the nationalist LNP, who are keen to use Brexit as a weapon to make the European Union less able to handle its migrants, and who appear eager to take advantage of the current crisis to push through a bill that would force them to accept new rules on migration.

The European commission is also the only party to be included in the two-way vote, as it will not support the bill and will be expected to vote against it.

“The commission is not a member of the two-way voting process. As a result, we do not participate in it,” said a statement.

“There are no European institutions that are interested in this issue.”

A spokesman for the bloc’s political body said: “The commission is determined to find solutions and will continue to support the two-way process.”

Lebanon was not involved in the EU vote.

Speaking to Reuters news agency, a representative of France’s government said France’s intention was “to take no action that would prejudice our EU partners and other international organisations”.


======== CHECKPOINT 004 OUTPUT # 002 ========

lack, or a combination of both. (See this post, which discusses the problem.)

We should also avoid looking for the solution or solution for everything, except what is necessary, and what is possible.

“I’m going to start with what I think is the most effective and most effective way to solve this problem. I think this is where I come in,” she said. “This is the way we’re going to solve the problems and I’ll give some advice, but I won’t tell you about it. I’ll talk about things that can help and the problems that have been caused by that, and I’ll tell you more about things I learned as a child, but I won’t give you my advice on how to do that. So that is where I’m going to go.”

So how can we solve her problem?

1. Find an idea and ask what it is that you’re going to try and fix.

“What you should consider, if you ask her, are things I want to do, things that I’ll want to be done,” she said. “Then maybe you’d like to have something. I don’t have my priorities, and my work ethic makes me less likely to do things that are unnecessary. So that’s a great start.”

2. Do what you can to make sure that there is no one other way of doing things.

“Well, if you have problems in the past, you should try to do the same to try and change them, to make them more useful for the future.”

3. Seek advice from others.

“If you’re struggling, I suggest to yourself ‘I don’t know if you have what it takes to succeed here or not. What do you think of what we can do to help you do better?’ and if you’re going to make something good for yourself, it’s going to be good.”

4. Use your own experience and experience to guide you through this process.

“I’ve had a lot of success in this country. I think in some ways, it’s very rare to find so many people who can do that. Maybe there are people out there, but I think that we must ask ourselves why we have people who make something so good for them. The people that do it are probably not in need of that, but I think we have to keep in mind that they are not in need of being better than we are. When I look at things as a whole, in that way, they might be better off if there were people with more experience and more skills, and that would make them more successful.”

5. Listen and see what you think.

“If you’re making progress, it can be difficult to know what you are not getting.”

6. Try not to do anything that you can’t control.

“It can be difficult for a person to get it to do what they want to do. It can be difficult to control what they can do, but try to do what you can do. This is one reason you don’t think about what you’re doing at all in your day-to-day life. This is one reason you don’t think about your future, because that’s not what you’ll be doing if you don’t want to do it. “

7. Stop thinking of your life as a choice between action and inaction.

“I don’t think that what I say or what I say, I think in a way I think in a way I am a part of, but I also think in a way that I think I can be more responsible for. It can be easy to say, ‘I will be involved in this thing because of this one situation, but I will be here because it was important to my development. I’ll do that because I think of it as an act of support.’ When I say that I mean something, I mean something that’s important to my self-esteem. You know, it was important to me when I was small, but I know now I can handle the things that came after. And there’s not much I can do about that. And if I’m going to do something about it, I will do it. You don’t make life easier on yourself by being so involved, because you think you can manage it, but you’re not going to do that.”

8. Be open, respectful, and honest about your beliefs.

“I know there are people who believe that they can’t really think about what they want to do without thinking about their life, and they have their beliefs and their beliefs, and they try to force themselves to think of themselves in different ways, and it’s a dangerous place to be in, to be honest, but I know that some people do do it, and some don’t, but some do it because they like being on the same level with others.”

9. Try to be honest


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telesc, and it does not leave a mark on your forehead like other eye-paintings.

2. If your eyes are white, a white face must not be used on your face. You are a child, and there must be an appropriate mark on your forehead, so that your face is visible to other children.

3. If the color of your eyes appears white or dark, it must be done according to the manufacturer’s instructions. In this case, it must be painted on your cheek. If it is a yellow eye, your eyes should be white. If it is a blue eye, your eyes should be dark. It is not necessary to paint the eyes separately from the pupil to create the mark; it is a necessary condition to make the eyes white, which must be done with a white eye. This condition requires that the paint should be painted on a white background and be bright white to avoid the effect of having an ugly reflection in the pupil. The eye paint used may be left in the pupil for several days, then used with a white pupil.

4. If a child is injured by the rubbing of her face, a doctor may provide any necessary cleaning agents to wipe her face clean of any tears that could be there from the tears or any residue of saliva. After this cleansing is done, the tears must be wiped, or they may be put away as soon as possible with a cotton twine. If the tear was left for so long that the eye does not recognize it, the child will not be able to be seen. The tears may become visible on the right side, but they will be invisible on the left side. There will be a fine mist of black smoke in the air.

5. In order to avoid eye infection, your eyes must be cleaned with a clean cloth. When in a bad condition, a clean cloth may be applied to the eye to avoid spreading it. If the condition does not go away within a week, the eye should be put away as soon as possible after the eye is completely shut. The eye may be placed in an open position on a table or the counter, and the eye may be kept in a closed position until the rest of the eyes are open, or until the rest of the eye is shut for a full day.

6. Any eye of a child which has been exposed to water must be cleaned thoroughly with water, if necessary to maintain the sight of the child, and the water must be used in a good manner.

7. If you are a child of any age, you may use a white or red nail, or a white or red nail with a black mark, as an eye-wipe, or a black or white nail with an orange or yellow mark, as an eye-paint, or any other kind of mark. When used in an eye-paint, these marks are called marks of colour, because they appear very bright in the eyes, and the mark is so bright that it is easily seen by the eye.

8. A black mark or mark of colour is one of the two forms of the eye-paint, or, as it is called, a white or red mark. A black mark is a sharp object, but it cannot be seen with the naked eye. The red mark is the eye’s point or mark on the face, which is called a pore. It is so sharp that a child might think that the eye’s edge is made of two sharp points. They are called marks of colour.

9. A child who wears a black or brown eye-paint may use the same methods as the child who wears a white or brown eye-paint. In a dark room, the eye should be filled with hot water, or a black or brown fluid, which should be poured into the eye and be stirred daily. If the skin does not grow in the eye, the blood may still be flowing; if it does grow, the blood may appear on the surface of the eye and will be lost; if the blood is red, it will be black. If it is not, the eye will be darkened and the pupil will dilate.

10. Children are very careful not to leave the eye-paint over their own eyes. If they cannot see clearly, they should not wash them, for they will tear the skin. It is the eye’s duty to clean them all before any person comes near.

11. Some people are more likely to become sick with blindness than others. They may be a little frightened, and some can seem calm and restful. It may be a good idea to go to a doctor or a doctor’s office to try to see if your eye-paint is not showing signs of blindness or that its eyes have turned black. If your eye-paint is showing signs of other disorders such as dark eyes, it should be treated with an eye-sore cataract for the rest of the day, or


======== CHECKPOINT 004 OUTPUT # 004 ========

agic” in response to a query, which is now in effect when you get it.

Another thing that happens with JSON is that you will need to provide all the data from the query into your JSON object, and this can take a bit of work. Here’s an example:

[{“id”:”123-01-14-18″, “value”: “B1”, “type”: “address”}]

Then when I run JSON, the response looks something like this:

[{“id”:”123-01-14-18″,”value”: “B2”, “type”: “address”}]

But the other big change is the default settings, which aren’t available in the “json” object, which is an API you can use to tell your app how to use your data.

So what does this change mean for this example?

Since it’s a single query, the default values for the data are not going to be reflected as JSON, and so the data will look like it was in a different way than what I’ve seen in the examples in the GitHub repo.

However, if you want to make the data in your app visible to the world, you’ll need to override a few more things.

If you’re looking for a better, more concise way of handling JSON data, then the data in my examples should be in your request/response object, so that if you create an instance of that, your response will look like this:

{ “id”: “123-01-14-18”, “title”: “My New Account”,”url”: “/profile/account”, “description”: { “kind”: “address”} }, { “id”: “123-01-14-18”, “title”: “My Account”,”url”: “/profile/account”, “description”: { “kind”: “address”} }

Now, there are two changes to the “json” object that I want to look at:

In the “json” object, the fields you want to remember are in the address field of the profile you want to change, and you can set them yourself.

In the “json” object, you’ll want to set the field “id”: “123-01-14-18”, which is not a field, and will tell your app that it wants to change the field.

In your “json” object, you should set a “name”: “My new account”, “title”: “My new account”, and a “description”: “My account is now available for review”.

You should also set your “properties”:

{ “username”: “myusername”, “password”: “mypassword”, “password_id”: “123-01-14-18”}

Now, in your new json object, you’re going to want to set your properties:

{ “name”: “My account”, “description”: { “kind”: “address”} }

Finally, in the “json” object, you’ll want to set your “properties”:

{ “name”: “My profile”, “description”: { “kind”: “address”} }

I have one final change to make. As soon as the “json” object contains properties, it must store them in a database, so that my app’s “properties” and “properties_get” methods are available. In the future, I’ll work with other developers to try to create a way to store these, and to make the system more flexible.

I hope you find the examples helpful!


======== CHECKPOINT 004 OUTPUT # 005 ========

weapons. They’re not just the type of thing that you’re going to want to see on an airplane, they’re also things you want to see on a boat, if you want to fly them all over again. And there’s lots of factors to account for.

What are the most important qualities to understand as pilots?

So we’re talking about what it takes to be successful, where that’s important to you, and what you want to make it happen. When I started, I wasn’t sure what would make me successful. I wanted to be able to do that. But at some point, a pilot was going to say, ‘Well, I want to do the best thing for myself, and do what I need to do for myself. You need to be able to do something that’s good for me.’ And so when you want to do that, you need to think about it. You want to think about what you’re doing.

What are your passions?

I think that all those things are things I want to be able to do. I’m not quite sure about the ones that I want to do in my job, or I’d be happy to do some in my career, but I’m happy to do something because that is my passion. And I want to be able to put that passion into things that are my own passion that are going to do what they need to do.

So for me, that is what I want. But it’s not just my passion, that is something that I want to do on the ground. So if I’m flying in the middle of a storm and I don’t want to do anything but keep in the cockpit, I want to stay there. And if I want to fly in the middle of a storm with a lot of rain, I want to stay there.

How would you describe the cockpit as your home?

That’s probably the best way I know of it. It’s something that I’m really lucky to have that I can live there. I’m never going to have to live there, I’m never going to have to live in the house there because I’ll be in the car and I can’t move. So I would say the house is my home. It’s the house I live in. I can live with my friends here. It’s the house I live in. So, it’s all that it has.

How would you describe the cockpit as your home?

Well, the cockpit is very much my home. I’m not so sure about the place. It is what it does. I’ve always had a strong home that I used to live in and, in fact, I think I’d love to live in there, that I’d like to live in.

In general, when I go into the cockpit you have to be quite prepared to go to the front. You have to be extremely prepared for that. You have to keep your face close to the cockpit. You have to be very confident to go in the front. You have to be very careful of your position in the cockpit. So if you don’t go in the cockpit, you’ll end up back where you started.

It is your cockpit’s home. It’s not your home. It’s your home.

How long have you been flying the cockpit?

I don’t think I’ve ever flown the cockpit since I was 14 or 15 years old. It’s not that long. But from what I’ve heard, it’s always been my home.

How do you keep your face close to the cockpit?

You’re always going to need that extra bit of protection on your face. The most common problem I have is when I fly over water. But it doesn’t have to be that way.

So there are lots of things you need to do in your cockpit to make that the most effective.

One thing that you do in the cockpit, when you have a jet or a car, you know, it’s like a bird coming out of its nest or something. It flies. It flies into the atmosphere and, sometimes, it’s in the air for some reason. And, sometimes, it’s coming out of the ground, and the pilots, they don’t even know what that is. I am flying on the ground as a man. And, it’s a very important thing to do to make sure you have the most effective flight path, not only on the ground, but also on the plane.

Do you have anything else you’d like to say to the community?

I want to thank you for coming to the forum. In particular, we’ll talk about the recent announcement on the site.

You’re coming to one of the most talked about airlines in aviation. What’s your take?

Well, I’ve always been quite skeptical of my own personal view. When you take a look at your own personal views, it’s just


======== CHECKPOINT 005 OUTPUT # 001 ========

Austin in an open-air ceremony on Friday. “There were five guys in the crowd,” he told the crowd. “They’re very hardworking men, but they have good, decent jobs. If you want to do that, you have to put your best foot forward.”

Somewhere around 5 p.m., the crowd of about 25 people gathered on the east side of the mall, where they were greeted by a loud “Thank you,” which sounded from nearby homes. A few minutes later, the crowd, who included two friends, walked to the perimeter and began walking, down a dirt path, past three storefronts and four houses in front of the mall’s new facility.

“I know what I’m doing,” said Steve Zat, the manager of the store, as he took a seat at a table and sat in front of Zat’s office.

His friends, both men and women in their 40s, showed him a sign that read “Ride with your friends.”

“They’re all young men who want to help me, and I’m doing what I can to help them,” said Zat, who owns a local food truck company that employs two to five people, including an older woman, whose husband is a retired Army general who works in health care. “I don’t know about you, but I know what I’ve got to do.”

“That’s all there is to it,” Zat continued, referring to his friend’s “thank you” on the wall.

A couple of minutes later, Zat called the mall manager.

The mall manager turned the call into a series of calls on his mobile phone that could be easily intercepted, Zat said. He also called for an officer on the ground to arrive, where the store clerk was waiting in the back row, with his staff, and said, “Let’s see what he’s got.”

Zat said he’s been dealing with the mall’s new, $7 million development at the mall for years, and it’s been rough getting his hands on it.

“They are in charge of the redevelopment and the new development is just over three-quarters completed,” he said. “They’re still looking for some money. And they’re just not up to the job of making money. They’re not paying for their own building or for their own maintenance. And I know what I’m doing is wrong. And I know what I have to do. I know what I have to do.”

The mall is currently undergoing its own planning, he said. He doesn’t know how many new residential units will be built in the area, but he and his wife, Sharon, have already bought the old space, which is about the size of a grocery store, and moved in with their second son, a student.

When they bought their home on a private estate in New York in the late 1990s, it had a front porch in front of the mall. But Zat was unaware the front porch had been a popular haunt, nor was his own home on the property. The neighborhood around the mall, too, had been vacant or occupied by tenants for many decades.

“There’s always something missing from the community, whether it’s a place that I like or a place that I like,” Zat said. “That’s what happened to me. I have to be more open and more aware of where I live.”

He said he’s also learned to stay vigilant of things happening nearby. He’s had his eye on the mall in New York City, where the mall opened in 2001 as a temporary shelter, but said he hasn’t seen the mall in about five years.

“It’s kind of sad. It’s sad when people come back here every day and want to go somewhere else and say, ‘Hey, we want to help you,’ but it’s sad when that happens. It’s sad when it comes back,” he said. “But it’s sad to come back here and see it empty. It’s sad to see it in the city again. I want to live here.”

“That’s how the world really is, and it’s not for everybody,” said Scott, who works for the city’s office of the city planner. “If the people in our world want to do something, we have to do it. The world has to do what’s good for them. If you do nothing, then it is a terrible mistake. It is a mistake that we have to do.”

Zat said he’d like to see the mall, and if he could, he hopes that will bring change, but he hasn’t seen any progress so far, he said.

When the new facility opens, Zat hopes to open it in October. But, as with other mall sites, it will be a long time before he can move forward with an expansion plan.

“I don’t know where it’s


======== CHECKPOINT 005 OUTPUT # 002 ========

奐身 エキドナロココ クリスタル・パラディン クリームヒルト ジャスタウェイ ジュスティーヌ&カロリーヌ ジョイラの使い魔 ジン=フリークス やさしい王様・ガッシュ&高嶺清麿 カイト カオス セラの天使 アクア・サーファー アイランドガチャドラ アラジン【原作版】 アテナの使命・沙織 ガンダー ガッシュ&高嶺清麿 ギガ満助 サウスポーの守護神・アテナ サイバー・N・ワールド サーティワン・エメリット サーティワン・アメリット サーティワン・サファリット サーティワン・愛猫神・バステト サーティワン・トパリット サーティワン・ルビリット サーティワン・ダブエメリット サーティワン・ダブアメリット サーティワン・ダブサファリット サーティワン・ダブトパリット サーティワン・ダブルビリット サーティワン・バステト サンタクロース ザ・ニンジャ ザブゴン ザブシャーク シェル・ファクトリーγ シェル・フォートレス シヴ山のドラゴン シャーマンカーン シャーマンラーン シーファン シンデレラ ゼオン&デュフォー ゼリーエンジェル スサノオ王子 スーパー覚醒マシンゼウス スーパー超覚醒ゼウス コカ・コーラたまドラ コルト隊兵隊長, Rammot コロッケ コッコ・ルピア あざ笑う雪だるま・ジャックフロスト 坂本辰馬 キャシー・クレイジー キューピッド キン肉族超人予言書 キリン 坂田銀時 坂田銀時 坂田銀時&アメノミナカヌシ衣装 優護の昂龍喚士・オメガ 優護の昂龍喚士・オメガ 友ノ浦中の捕手・佐藤寿也 大弯の海龍王・ヴォルスーン 大林寺拳法・チンミ 大邪眼B・ロマノフ 大豪月 天才・猪狩守 天獄召喚・バハムートヘルヘブン 天道あかね 夏休みの約束・バーバラ&ジュリ 夜兎の番傘 奈落の王 奮励の渦龍喚士・ヴィゴ 奮励の渦龍喚士・ヴィゴ 女型の巨人, Annie Leonhart 女型の巨人・戦闘状態 宮田一郎 宇宙の魔獣・ヤコン 完璧超人・ネプチューンマン 定春 嵐海龍・レヴィア 工龍契士・チュアン 冥府の番犬・ケルベロス 冥黒神, Ra Dragon うしおととら【原作版】 全能神・ゼウス=ドラゴン 光の伴神龍・ゴティーン 光槍の聖ボット・ヘラクオーディン 光翼の絆・ソルジャーズ 六代目武装戦線頭・河内鉄生 六道聖 創始の天央神・アメノミナカヌシ 強力・キン肉マンビッ


======== CHECKPOINT 005 OUTPUT # 003 ========

politicians not to talk about what they believe to be the most important issues. They have done so in the past to say ‘I believe in free speech’. They have done so with impunity because they have been in power for so long.

How many times did you have to talk about the “free” speech of one minority, for instance in the 1990s when you were running a campaign for a woman’s suffrage referendum in Wales?

I used to spend all day talking about that. I thought you are so obsessed with a vote for equality for women that you would have been out of your depth by now. If I had just put up with all this for a short time, it would have been over in a matter of weeks. But I have been wrong about that ever since. I don’t believe in free speech. I think the whole thing was just to get some publicity. And it worked.

If we could get the government to recognise that the issue is not equal rights but free speech, why didn’t you give them the speech you wanted?

Well, it took a while before they made it clear, because we’ve already paid the bills. If they did give you this speech, what would you think would have been the outcome?

One of the main problems was that this speech was so widely reported, they needed to say a lot more than it did, but there was no reason to be afraid.

And then they gave you an interview in a press release that was critical of the government’s response.

It went to the press when it was published that they did nothing about a debate of our welfare system. They were in the backroom, they did not give the speech to anyone.

What were they saying?

There is a very interesting line about “If you’re not in charge you can do no wrong”. What they said is ‘We know how to deal with this’ and they did not give you the speech.

So it is no wonder they were so angry about what they were saying, that they did not think it was in the interest of the people.

Why should they think that is a legitimate reason for this, that they were right?

Why should I take offence?

The answer is simple. Because they think their voice needs to be heard. It is your voice that they want to hear. And they want to hear it. They don’t want to be heard at all.

How did you deal with this?

I went in as a member of parliament and met with some of the key people in the government. They said it was a very well thought out speech but that it was made to promote freedom.

You’re now back in your seat on the European Parliament. You don’t seem to have a lot of time to think about politics. How do you respond?

I think it is important that I tell the public that I do not think they can have free speech if they can’t understand.

I can understand people saying that. I’m not talking about people who think that this is bad for their children and their job. I’m talking about people who think that it should be a moral thing.

But you have to be careful with what you say.

No one will tell you what to say or that, and what should you say. But you should make your decision for yourselves and not others.

What have you done so far?

I haven’t done any campaigning. I haven’t even done anything about the Labour Party. I have been the first to announce that I am in fact not an MP, so I am in no position to talk about Labour or politics.

I’m an outspoken critic of my colleagues, and you should expect me to try to persuade them to take action to support the Labour Party.

You don’t think I want to be on the frontbench?

Yes.

You are also Labour’s leader in this Parliament. You can’t be a leader only in opposition.

What is it that you stand for?

In the past ten years or so, I have worked with a huge number of MPs who are from very different parties.

I have come from the Labour party for all the Labour Party, and for me that is a very welcome position to be in.

I can understand what the Labour party is like. It is about the people, about the people, about the people that have been through hell to make their own choices.

You have a different view on the situation with respect to the issues that are at stake in our country today.

Is there any particular thing you have said that has led to the party’s rise to prominence, that you think the public should have an opportunity to understand about this matter?

I think there are quite a few things in my opinion that are wrong with this party.

Firstly, I don’t think it


======== CHECKPOINT 005 OUTPUT # 004 ========

Raiders, where he also had a long, slow career. The last time he played the ball on this field was in 2005 when he broke his arm, as he was already out of the league for six months. And he did not make the cut for 2014 with the Eagles, after a one-year, $4 million deal, but when the Eagles acquired him in July, he was already back with the team on a two-year deal with a $10 million signing bonus, and still played.

“He’s a special player,” the Falcons’ general manager said about Hurns. “I can’t tell you how impressed I am with this guy. He’s not just a great athlete, he’s a great person. He’s really hardworking, a guy who likes to be hard working. He doesn’t judge or judge. He’s all around the league.”

Hurns’s career is an example of the kind of work you want in the draft, especially when you can’t get a good quarterback out of him.

The Eagles do have good scouts that have taken notice of his skill set, so much so that the league-wide team meetings are filled with those who see his potential, especially as an understudy. The best example is a 2011 report from Mike Shula, who interviewed him at the Pro Bowl. Shula interviewed for the Falcons, but didn’t find a strong one. Instead, he was told by two of his scouting friends, who said they’d taken a look at him during practice.

“I feel bad, because I really don’t get this from the media, but they’re like, ‘Did you take it that way?’ I was told by one of the trainers, ‘Whoa, I thought you took it this way, you took it that way.’ I’ve never been the guy that looks at his tape, but I did. And I think I’m one of the best guys I’ve ever seen on this field.”

His ability to see how the team works makes him the best in the draft, even if that means trying to make some moves in the offseason to make sure the Eagles don’t overpay.

“It’s a very difficult time for him,” Shula said. “I think in a few days he’ll be on his way out. He’s going to be an all-round player. He’s a top pick at any position. I think a lot of teams were surprised that he could do that.”

When he was drafted, Hurns said he had his mind set on doing some things that would put him over his head, such as making an effort to see who the Eagles drafted in the first round, and then having his own opinion about who should be on that team.

“The next time I think about it, I’ll say, ‘You know, it could be a good one, and it might work.’ That’s all I want. He’s going to be a good player. He’s going to be a big, fast, strong, good quarterback. You want to do it right.”

He is being told every day that if he does not make the right move, he will be cut by his agent. Hurns was still on the Giants’ radar back in 2007, but the Giants were still willing to trade him before signing him to their 53-man roster.

The Eagles traded for the second-rounder on Sunday, but they had another big need, too, and they knew they had to fill it.

“We needed a safety,” Hurns said. “We wanted a run-stopper. And I’m going to take that pick, and I’m not even a safety, and I’m going to get to go in. I’m not a safety. I’ll get to pick this year’s pick or this year’s draft.

“If there’s one thing that you can do, it’s to move in.”

When a team would need the help of a special player or a strong safety, the best way to do it is to take him under the wing.

Hurns has played that role, but the Eagles did not like him when he played his college days, but their willingness to take him under the wing as part of their offense helped him make his presence felt on the field.

“I think you want a good quarterback for what they want you to do,” he said. “They’re going to get you. I’m a big believer in that. I’m a big believer. I believe in what we’re going to do.

“It’s not about the price, but I think in some way, we are a little bit underpaid to be able to do the things we do. We’re not really getting a lot of help. We’re getting a little bit underpaid. We’re not getting a lot of cover time, a lot of cover time for cover time. I think that


======== CHECKPOINT 005 OUTPUT # 005 ========

kindly. We should do that too, of course.

I wish I had a chance to see the story, and I don’t know how it is read. The man who is so fond of me has made me look pretty. I should like to see it.

“I will say, Sir, how, you were kind enough to write to us, you must tell us what happened to the horse-penny man. He said he was dead, as his name was. He gave you two small notes; I shall remember them. They were given to me by an aunt who had given me a small piece of her own. I am so grateful for this, that I shall not lose it.”

She was not amused, for she said that she would never write a letter again; but he replied, that there is something in it that she should not read, and that it is only necessary that I should tell the story, and not merely tell it.

“Your own son shall not have his name at all, or his name will not be made known to him, or to me. I will never make a good friend of you. I am as much your son as the rest of your friends; I am as much your son as the others, and will make you as much as I will take from you. I am as far from this as any of your friends. I shall be the king of the kingdom to you, you will see.

“All this is good. You may take care of it, if you like. It will be only a matter of time before I make any of you the head of the country; but if you do, I shall be all right, and my father will be his own father.”

“And what of that?” asked Sir W. Pen? “How could it be? We do not have time to spare.”

“If we do, then let me tell you, that I will have a pretty wife, my own woman, for my own sake.”

“And I do love to have you with me for my own sake.”

“No, that does not hurt your feelings.”

“Oh, you are so, my friend.”

“The good news, then, that you have not made your wife a little better, is that you have made your daughter of her own, not as you have taken a daughter from your own. There are some women you will never see, and others will never be known, and that is too late. The time I spent with your wife will come to an end. Your daughter will not come, and her children will be taken from her. Her child will go to school, and to this day I still have not learned to teach her any language, and she will not learn anything, and she will not learn how to draw, so that she will be useless to me. You shall have all that you can do, and I will give her the chance she needs to do what I like to do.

“The good news that I have, and that you have, is that she is your father, and you are my daughter. We are both very fond of your daughter, and I love her so much that she will be in my heart to help me, and I think that she is not my little sister. She will be glad to be alive, and, when she has done so well, will be married, and then come to the court of justice for all that I have done to her. I will be all right if you do not give me the time, for that will be the very worst that you will do. The man who wrote all this is a man who does good, if not to his own self.”

“Now, Sir, how I want to hear your story,” said Miss Elizabeth, when she saw that I had left her a few hours ago, “we did not go to a little country house; we had nothing to eat, we had no clothes, we had nothing to wear, and so we went to the house of the King.

“We were in the carriage, and the King said to me, ‘Why do you come into this country so late?’

“I said, ‘If it is your fault, it is not my fault.’

“He was afraid, and he said to me, ‘I will get her to come to the palace. You must be so ready to kill her.’

“I said, ‘I must be ready, Sir; and, in the absence of the man who sent the letter to you, that I should do something, then let me have her with me, for I would not do it; but, Sir, do you not wish that my daughter should be killed, and this was the one who sent your letter, and I must have her now and then, as soon as I am gone, if she comes again. I will not make the


======== CHECKPOINT 006 OUTPUT # 001 ========

demonstration. In another video, the woman says, “Hey, you don’t know this girl, you don’t understand me.” In another, the woman says, “You just can’t live in fear, you just can’t live without fear.”

She doesn’t know how to deal with these thoughts. But she knows, because she knows that we are in the moment that has to be addressed, a moment of light. The moment of light that we see, in which we can see without fear.

And to have it all, you have to understand that this moment, this moment that we have to be confronted with, and this moment that we have to take this step with is not simply the moment of the world becoming the world. This is the moment where we see our own world that it is not our own. It is not our own.

The moment when we are the most powerful, the one where we can make our own change with our words, and the moment where we give that voice to our voice, to speak and express ourselves in the world.

We will do so, we will do so. And so you will say, “Who do you think you are, that I am, that you are in the moment that I am? Who do you think you are that I am that you can give your voice to? Who do you think you are that I am that you can make this your voice?

What do you think, if I am in the moment that I am that you can give your voice to? What do you think that I am that you can make this your voice?

Who do you think you are that I am that you can make this your voice?

How do you think that this is what you need to give your voice?

Who do you think you are that I am that you can make this your voice?

Why do you think that this is what you need to give your voice?

Why do you think that this is what you need to give your voice?

I don’t understand, you see. This isn’t so, and you know it is not.

You say, “I don’t see what I am; but I am a man and I am a woman. I am in this moment that I am that I am that you can make this your voice.”

“Do you see this?” I ask.

I take my eyes away and I am in this moment that I am that you can make this your voice.

“That is what I said,” she answers, “that I am in this moment that I am that you can make this your voice.”

“What? ” I ask.

“What? ” she answers.

“I am in this moment that I am that you can make this your voice.”

“What? ” I ask.

“What? ” she answers.

I say, “I am in this moment that I am that you can make this your voice.

The time will come when you are able to give this voice to me, where you can give me that voice and in this moment that you can make this your voice.

So you shall speak and you shall be told the truth.

So that you will have power to tell this and I shall have power to tell it, to give this voice and then tell that voice when the moment will come.

And so, if that time comes, and I have power to give this voice to you, and I have power to tell you that voice of truth, of truth is in the moment that I am that you can give it.

But when I think that you think that you can give me power, and when you think that I am that you can give me power, and I think that I am that you can make that voice, and when I think that you can give me power, and when you think that I am that you can give me power, it’s like a blind man taking a blind dog.

And if that time comes and you do not know how to live, then you should live.

For in that moment of your life when I think, I think, and I am you, that you may see this, that you may see this.

You see that there is a time when I must do this, and that the hour is now when you must do it, and that the hour is now when I cannot do this.

And I know you cannot be blind or see.

You do not understand me.

You do not feel anything, but I do know that I cannot feel anything.

And I know you cannot see.

The first time I came here, I told you that you were a man.

You did not see.

You did not hear.

You did not hear your mother.


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Cro. 1089-1094] “For that reason, and upon this occasion, I shall keep my watch and do all things which are in the power of my God, and whatsoever he may desire, as in all things, I will not hesitate to do it.” (Matthew 9:30)

As to the Lord’s mercy, what can we say, that this he was always so fair to him? He made us love him in his own bosom, but he did not make us all one, to whom he gave his own love. He would not forgive his enemies, but love his friends, even if they were of some kind, and he loved them dearly.

He has said that we should love those whom he loves, even though we did not love them, when we were old, or yet had not even given up hope to live long; yet his own death did not give hope to our life, and gave our life back in one form to him. It was because he loved us that he had loved us in one form. It was the desire that drove us to do this, and not the desire to live in the form of what we might like to see.

Thus he will have us give up our fears. We must do our part, because we were so dear to him as to believe that we were a friend, and to love him so dearly, even when he loved us for a certain time, and to love him so much that he loved us in his heart, in this way as though he were our own, for love should not make our hearts go, and in other ways it is more true than love, that we should love each other in one form, but we should love each other as though we were two men, both of us lovers, both of them men.

Whence it is not the love which makes you love other men, but the love which makes you despise yourself. And you love one man more than another, or both more than one.

Do not hate one another, but love the Lord Jesus Christ, as if he did love you; but that you should love him is to make one’s mind for you and one’s own pleasure; and, as you love him to be worthy of your love, as if you were an idol, so you love him to be unworthy of yours;

That, if you love him as your own, then you would hate him more than one another; but you love him in the same way, so that you love your love so as to not hate him more than one other, for you love him just like that which one ought to love to love to love.

You do not have many things which have been said concerning his love, but he only says that he loves you because you love him, so as to not only love you, but not to hate you like that which one ought to hate to hate to hate.

For this reason, if I will show you what I can do, it will be as good as if I had found a little box in which to put my head; but it will not take any place in a well, nor in a place of light;

Because it is for this reason, that some of you do not know my heart.

For if I told you, how many times I had cried out, and how many times I have loved you so much that it was impossible that I should not have it, let alone love you, which so loved me, that I knew not that you could love me.

Because my heart does love you, and it does love the things which I love, and the things which I love, and the things which I love.

The reason I say this, is not because I love you, but because it is for your sake.

Because you are with me, that I may love you more than your heart;

because you are with me, that I may love you more than your spirit,

because I love you because I love you, that I may love you more than your life,

because I love you because you love me so much that it would not take me to be with you,

because I love you because you love me so much that I would not wish to love you more than you.

You may know, therefore, that I love you, but I cannot know whether my heart loves you more than yours, or whether mine is not.

Love is not love, and I cannot know that you love me. Love is a kind of love, and it is not love that it does love me, but I cannot know whether I love you more than your heart, or whether it is less of your love than yours.

It is true, that I love you in this way, and because I love you in that way; but this is not love, not as you like it to be; for I love myself


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Eparadicali, ‘the Lord of the world, as you were,’ quoth he, as though he was now a son of heaven, to his own soul; and that he knew that his flesh were made flesh, and that a human soul was taken from it, ‘to this man is born, that which is the soul of man,’ says the apostle.

The Lord of the world, he says, is not in his senses, but in the eye; wherefore the eye sees him, and the eye hears him. He saw them, and they saw him. ‘Behold,’ says he, ‘what I, and you, are like unto you. I saw that the heavens were filled with water, and the earth filled with fire: and I saw the whole world of them and their waters.

‘I saw what thou wast before me; that thou was with me; that thou made me: thou hast now taken me, that the earth and all things that dwell on it may contain me. thou hast been made of a white marble, and of iron, and of wood, and of iron-wrought iron-trees. thou hast made me an immortal being, that I might live long and live long. thou hast given me a body that is in one, and another body that is in another; and thou hast given me, O virgin, the body of this body; and thou art my God; and in my blood and in my blood, and in my blood shall be thy name.

‘And in this blood I have been raised up, and I am with you all this life, to-morrow, to-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow and to-morrow. I am with thee all these lives; and you will not forget this, nor will you be sorrowful about it.

‘Now, behold,’ says he, ‘how the angels have made me this body of thee, and have made it to sit on the throne of the Lord of the worlds, and to dwell on the throne of all the world;

‘ and when thou shalt be made king, thou shalt be free from all this world and all that dwell on it:

‘Then what is more good for me? that I may sit on the throne of the Lord of the worlds, and to rest on this throne of the Lord of the worlds?—it is not possible that I should not be rich enough, and so be able to live; but what more is I worth than for my living flesh? and how, being my husband’s wife, can I live so many years without her?

‘And what more does I gain from thy loving-kindness, as by all my life is my inheritance?—all that have come from heaven have been mine, and their inheritance hath been mine, and my inheritance hath been mine;

‘and thus I am the first of them all to be made king.

‘And now what is better than this?’ says the Lord of the world, as if he were talking of an eternal body;

‘what is worse than this?’ says the Lord of the world, as if he were talking of a being in heaven;

‘this being is not the first of them all, but that which is the first is the first of them all, and the first of them all is my body.’

‘And this is the first of them all, and this also is my body,’ says he. ‘That is my being, in that which I be, in which I am, as thou art my being; that thou art my being, in which thou art my being, in which thou art my being, in which thou art my being; and that is the first of them all, and that is the first of them all that be.

‘And this is the first of them all, and this also is my being.

‘And this is the first of them all, and this is my being.

‘And this is the first of them all, and this also is my being.

‘And this is the first of them all, and this also is my being.’

‘Then is this body the first of them all?’ says the Lord of the world. ‘I will not lie before thee, for thou art in all things, and I will not lie before thee. I will stand on my throne, my lord, my lord, my lord.’

‘And I will not lie before thee, for thou art my lord.’

‘And my lord?’ says he. ‘My lord.’

‘And this is the first of them all, and this also is my being.’

‘Then is this body the first of them all?’ says the Lord of the world. ‘


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MOR, but this isn’t the first time he has attempted a political coup in Australia, and that’s the reason he’s running again for the Senate.

Topics: federal-government, federal-parliament, federal-government, government-and-politics, government-and-politics, wa, australia

First posted


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integral the field of view of your body as a whole, inasmuch as this field of view is the ground of all your actions. When you are alone, there is no room to make decisions, and if you do make a decision, you are in fact the object of attention and you are at least as much in the process of making a decision as the object of attention is in making the object of your own view.

If you are not at present in a position of power, and you have not received anything from others, you are in a state of dependence. You do not know what you can do with the power, but when you are in a position of power, you are a stranger, and not only will you do something, but you do nothing at all. When you have taken from others, you cannot receive any advantage, because you have only been under their power. If you receive the power of others, and you feel yourself under their power, you can be more easily persuaded by them to not do anything, to take back what you already have gained, to use some advantage, to change your position or, if you prefer, to get rid of those who you have not seen. When you have received from the others, you can do nothing but be deceived in your mind, and you will be sure to be wrong: but if you have not received the power of the others, you cannot, and you can not do anything by what you have not seen or heard.

To be in a state of dependence, there are certain places in the world where you are more or less bound. In such a state, you should be constantly aware that you cannot get what you want. For if you do something in one place, or make some attempt at something in another, you lose sight of what is in that place.

When you are in a state of dependence, you must not speak to your master’s servant in all his idle talk: but you must always know what you want. When you have nothing to say, you must not ask, either in vain or at the first thought, or in haste. In speaking to your master, you have no power to change the situation, but when he has spoken, you must tell him what you want from him.

When you have no desire for anything, you must speak in silence, so that your mind can read that which he says; and when he has spoken, you must listen to him, or in order to listen in silence, make your mind listen to his thoughts.

When you have no power to hear what you want from him, you must speak to him when he speaks: and if you say no to what he says, you must lie to him, for that is why you do not listen to what he says.

You must not have any desire to ask any question in any part of your being, unless it be a question for which you have no power to answer. If you have any power in any part, you must not give up all of your power in your being, for you have no power in that which is not yours, and it is not your own which gives you power. You are only your own power and you are yours.

When you have no desire to learn anything, you must tell him what he wants; but he may only ask what he wants and he is bound to obey you. You may not make any changes in your way of thinking, if it does not mean you know how to do it properly or it is your mistake.

When you have no power to hear what you want from him, you must speak in silence, for that is why you do not hear what he says.

When you have no power to ask him questions, you must ask him: but when he has been asked, he is so angry that he cannot listen to you. He tells you nothing but what he wants you to know, and he tells you what he wants you to know.

When you have no power in your life to say, he must say nothing in his own name, but you must always keep him in your mind; and the more his mind is kept from you, the more you are afraid of being lost in your mind, the more you are afraid of him; so he cannot ask you anything, and thus the more he thinks of you.

You must not tell him what he wants you to know, because he does not know what he wants you to know. He may tell you that he wants you to know, that he wishes you to know, and that he wishes you to love you, but you cannot love him, because you have no desire to love. You cannot love him in love, for love cannot please any, or in love does not please itself. You must love him because he is beautiful, because you are beautiful, and therefore not beautiful, for love is beautiful for you. If you love him for any other reason, he will not love you


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mes. (9,110,12).

In contrast, other investigators have shown that a decrease in the plasma lipids, and their effect on glucose homeostasis, may be due to the fact that they lack the ability to break down lipids.

The key question in this review is whether the lipid-induced changes in lipids could be induced by the increased metabolic rate in the fat cells. If so, how would that change the way lipids are organized and act on the cell? The key question in this review is whether the lipid-induced changes in lipids could be induced by the increased metabolic rate in the fat cells. If so, how would that change the way lipids are organized and act on the cell?

References

D. Wiebe, M., R. Fisch, and J. Gresham. 1992. Physiological effects of a high-sensitivity lipoprotein lipase on fat mass and fat lipoprotein composition in rat adipose tissue: a double-blind, placebo-controlled study. Am J Physiol Endocrinol Metab. 292: E1513-E1521.


D. Wiebe. 2002. Physiological effects of a high-sensitivity lipoprotein lipase on fat mass and fat lipoprotein composition in rat adipose tissue: a double-blind, placebo-controlled trial. Am J Physiol Endocrinol Metab. 292: E1514-E1521.


E. Huxley, R. C. McInnis, S. E. Taylor, M. A. Williams, and D. W. Johnson. 2007. Influence of blood-fat mass on lipoproteins and glucose metabolism in healthy individuals: the effects of dietary lipoproteins in metabolic and cardiovascular diseases. J Physiol Endocrinol. 183: J922-J934.


F. Fisch, J. M. Cappuccio, S. C. Fusaro, and J. B. Bockinger. 1995. The effect of lipoproteins in fat metabolism on the rate and composition of lipid-free fatty acids in adipose tissue. J Physiol Endocrinol. 182: S1293-S1309.


L. Linnell, G. W. Sorensen, D. Péron, J. D. Cretzky, and T. J. Schuette. 1992. The effect of lipoproteins on glucose metabolism and lipid-free fatty acid content in human liver and adipose tissue. J Physiol Endocrinol. 183: S1297-S1399.


M. Linnell, G. W. Sorensen, and J. B. Bockinger. 1994. Effects of lipoproteins on glucose metabolism and lipoproteins in lipid-free fatty acids. J Physiol Endocrinol. 182: S1399-S1399.


O’Donnell, W. H. Riggs, and R. C. Wierzbach. 1997. Lipoproteins and lipoprotein metabolites of food and protein. Food Chem. 55: 751-762.


P. N. Aikens and C. H. K. Williams. 1988. The effect of lipoprotein lipids and lipids-modified polyunsaturated fatty acids on lipid metabolism. J Physiol Endocrinol. 187: L1153-L1157.


R. W. Cappuccio. 2007. The role of lipoproteins in the synthesis of lipids and lipoproteins from vegetable fats. J Physiol Endocrinol. 183: J1622-J1628.


S. E. Taylor, M. A. Williams, D. D. Fusaro, and J. B. Bockinger. 1996. The effect of blood-fat mass on fat oxidation in the human liver. J Physiol Endocrinol. 182: S1396-S1399.


A. Aikens, M. H. Gresham, C. J. D. Cretzky, A. P. Aikens, and J. H. Peele. 1994. Effects of lipoproteins and lipids-modified polyunsaturated fatty acids on lipid oxidation in human liver: a double-blind, placebo-controlled trial. Am J Physiol Endocrinol. 183: S1397-S1399.


C. M. Williams, and R. C. Wierzbach. 1996. The role of lipoproteins and lipids-modified polyunsaturated fatty acids on lipid oxidation in human liver: a double-blind, placebo-controlled trial. Am J Physiol Endocrinol. 183: S1397-S1399.


L. Linnell, G.


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prise the power of his mind and made him his wife. As he told him this he said to himself, “If there was ever a man with such an iron will, I will do for him what I can for my own sake. He will be my mistress, and if I will do anything for his sake, so do I. For I will not make him rich, nor kill him, but I will make him rich.” He was so angry at this that he begged the woman to return to him and take her to his wife.

“Ah, how foolish the king!” he cried. “How foolish is he!”

He answered, “But, what is this woman to say?”

“To you, to me, my dear lady! to my children!” cried the king, “And for what cause should he kill me?”

“Who is this daughter of mine?”

“Of your very sake, my dear dear dear lady! from me and from every one of you! my name is that of my own daughter; if you do not like to know my name, do not look into my eyes; I shall tell you, my dear lady, but I fear I have been unjustly led, and I am in a state of wretchedness. The queen is your mother; she is of the purest heart; she has been so lovely, you know; but she has not been so kind, and she is now more ugly.”

Then he said, “And now how is this woman to say, ‘You will live so long without me?’ “

“You will not live as long without me,” said he. “Your life will not be spent, and mine will be not spent.”

And she answered, “If I had spent my life alone, and if I had had all my friends, I should have no friends; for my friends were all one with me. But if you had no friends, you would have no friendship; nor do you need to know my name.”

“Why, you can’t tell my name, my dear!” cried the queen; “my friend’s name is my friend; the king’s name is your friend, and I am not your friend.”

“I do not have a friend, my dear dear,” she answered. “And what do you think I think my name is?”

“I will give you to me when I die.”

“And when my time is up to me?”

“At midnight,” said the queen; “when I am gone from you, my dear, it shall be time to go home to bed. But if you are not ready, I will take you to the king, for the queen is too proud to do it.”

And she said, “You know, my dear; there shall be a banquet of your food; you shall eat all the victuals that are within, and all the other dishes, and I shall give you them back to me for your own sake.

“Your daughter, my dear, what do you want for the victuals?”

“My dear, the food which I have lent you is now, with all haste, all that was used for my own sake.”

“But where did you give it?”

“Well, I did not know it was mine.”

“But you say you want it, my dear,” said the queen; “you know it is my daughter’s; I cannot forgive you for anything.”

“My dear,” said she, “when I did tell you that I did not want to have you in my life I did not believe it could be you, for if I had been alive to this day I would not have been able to bear it so long.”

“But I do not think you will love me, my dear,” replied the king; “for if I had died, my life would not have been so short.”

“But it was only to say that you will be dead, my dear,” cried he.

“But this, in all my life I have loved you so much that you have not forgotten your friendship; I will never forget it; I will not make you regret it, for it will be your life, for it is mine, and I will not make you forget the memory of it.”

“But this will be my life, dear, and I do not know your life,” said he. “What do you mean, dear?”

“My life was a dream; but it is not a dream that is the reality of my life. I have had no dream before. I have been asleep for three days. I am not dreaming; I am dreaming. I sleep and I sleep; but what dreams am I dreaming of?”

“The mind is awake and the mind is asleep; but what dreams are I dreaming of?”

“There is nothing that will


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outrage to Trump. “Why would you think that, and what your motives are? I mean, I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “I never did.”

He said Trump had used his victory speech to make public his admiration for Putin.

“He’s so popular and so powerful that he can put in your head and think, ‘That’s the world I know, that’s what I want.’ That’s what I think he’s got.”

Read more from Eugene Robinson’s archive, follow him on Twitter or subscribe to his updates on Facebook. You can also join him Tuesdays at 1 p.m. for a live Q&A.


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ITAL-USA’S CIVIL WAR? I am glad you will hear it so that I may get some of the credit for it and be assured to the truth; but I have to tell you that your question is such an important one, it is as worthy of your attention as I have.

THE CONFUSION OF ELLIOTT: (Sighing) Why, dear brother, I could not help but ask of your friend that you are a very dear friend, your daughter-in-law, your daughter-in-law’s husband and that you are your own son in a large family, but you cannot tell me, that you have no friends other than your own.

“O, I am my friend, and you know that; but I would not allow it to pass without my consent.”

“What can I help your son if you don’t tell me what he wants?—I am the son of a stranger, and my mother does not tell me who my father is or what he wants. What would you like, though?”

“I suppose to tell my friend my sister-in-law, to say nothing of my brother. I have heard he has the daughter of a married man, which I cannot tell you, and I see that this fact shows, that my husband’s love is much more beautiful than mine.

“When did she get married?”

“She was just fourteen years old, when she was murdered, and it was for her sake that I took away her. I had a dream of killing her; I should have had her out of my mind before I had seen the woman who would have to live for me. I was too old, and it took my heart, and I gave up the dream and hid it in the bushes. When she turned fourteen, and you heard it in my ear, I was in the house. I thought it must be a dream—though you had never heard of it till now, and I have never seen you before. It was then that I learned to look at my friend in the eye, and to know what I might be doing to her, and to love her. I cannot tell you how it felt to you to know what I should have done for her, for she is my best friend.”

“That you are my friend, dear boy. Why should you let my friend have a friend like you? Why should I not see her, and when she was born to you, would you tell me her name, or tell her when she was born?”

“But that would make no help, dear son.”

“You are to do what you wish, dear son, for my sake. I should be your father. I should not wish to be your mother, because your love for me did not bring me to you, nor to your father, and you should do whatever you please. I would rather live to see my father than die with him, and he died with me.”

“To die with me?” said he, but he knew he must have thought a good deal less of me than he knew of mine.

“You are not my father, do you? My love is the mother of my love. I would love her to die with me, if she did not want her daughter’s life. I think her life is so short, that my life could not afford it for her. I would rather die for her than live for her.”

“What do you mean?” said he, but he knew her and understood him well enough to know her well enough to know him well enough to know her well enough to know her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough to love her well enough


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unbeliev as well as possible. It’s the kind of story that can only get better and better, even in a show as diverse as The Good Wife.

For more on the book, you can listen to my interviews here. You can see a whole bunch of them at my blog here.

Here are some other good things to note:

The book is only three chapters long.

The “The Good Wife” episode is only five minutes long.

The last couple of pages have the whole episode with the opening narration.

And there’s one very important piece in the whole episode: the “Saw a Woman Who’s Wrong About Things.”

The first couple of the five minutes of the book are in the beginning and are really the only way to make sure the story feels as real to the reader as they do to me. I love how many pages of notes I have (and I am a big fan of notes), I think, and the way I read them in this first week in May is like listening to a show where there’s an emotional twist, and there’s not. The book gets better, and better, faster and faster, and the audience grows more and more convinced that The Good Wife is a brilliant and compelling show.

The rest of the chapters of the book are quite short and only just a few pages are used, because there are some parts where they get a little too long. I do my best to provide as much time as I can for each chapter, but I can’t really afford to spend so much as a couple of pages. I don’t have the time to write out all the chapters as many times as I can, and so it’s hard to give it all to the chapter. I try to have as much as I can get, and that’s always been a challenge in my career, and I’ve always loved to keep track of what I can. The second half of the book is my last chapter, so I do that every time I leave my room.

But as I said, The Good Wife feels so much better in my head, and the world feels so much better.


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portions of this document are already up, and will be updated as needed.

As of October 6, 2015, we have had the option to not provide our name or business address when submitting our information to the IRS, but we are currently working to obtain the name and address of the individual. This will include information about his or her past or current residence, current address, current business address and the length of time he or she has been in the United States.

We hope that you have enjoyed reading this excellent document!

Thank you in advance for reading.

-Edward

The Internal Revenue Service

Department of Financial Services


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cooker can get into a pot, add water and continue cooking, or in case of any food on your plate be careful not to get too wet.

This recipe is for those who find themselves being hungry, and want to show the world the delicious stuff that comes from having a meal.

What makes this a good, hearty and delicious meal? Well, for starters it’s that it will be more satisfying and will help in getting your mind to know what you’re doing. I mean, the most delicious part? It will make your body go wild so you’ll have a little something to eat right now.

Another aspect of your body is that your body is more efficient at getting through the heat of your food than your body should be, so you’re better able to eat it.

And that’s just how you should do it in your own body!

The second thing to keep in mind is that you should be aware of your body’s natural tendency to burn calories that you get from food.

For example:

If your body’s calories are all burned by weight loss, then you need to maintain your own body weight.

This means your body is getting burned through your sweat, urine, fat, sugar, fat, salt, water, and more, so you’re going to be burned less and less from all of it.

But what about you?

In my book “The End Of The World,” I talk about the fact that the way your body works, will only go so far when you are starving, and that if you keep that your food will only get hotter and hotter.

And this is what you want in your diet.

It’s time to start using it!

In the book, you get this:

‘Now when you are hungry it is clear that you are starved to a point where you can no longer keep your hunger out of your control, and you start to lose weight.

If you are thirsty, you begin to lose the appetite, so that your body is starving.

‘Now when you are hungry it is clear that you are thirsty, and so you begin to lose weight.

‘If you are a thief, you are now a thief, and so your body loses its power of digestion.

‘This means that your body loses some of its natural energy, and some of that is wasted.

‘Now when you are hungry you are thirsty, and so you are losing your mind and your body will lose your energy to give you something to eat.

‘If you are sick, and your body is dying from lack of water you may try to get some help to help your body, but you will be sick of feeling sick, and when you get your own body in a bad situation it will lose all the weight and your spirit will lose it.

So if you are thirsty, you are thirsty because of your thirst, but if you are sick you will get sick of being thirsty, and when you have something that you want, you will get thirsty, and your body loses your thirst, so that your body will have no water.

If you are hungry, and your body is dying from lack of water you will give something to eat.

‘This means that your body loses some of its natural energy, and some of that is wasted.

If you are hungry, and your body is dying from lack of water you may try to get some help to help your body, but you will be hungry, and when you have something that you want, you will get hungry, and when you have nothing that you want you will get the most of the food you have.

When you are hungry, you will find yourself being hungry because of your own hunger, but when you have something that you want, you will have food that will make your body eat as well as your heart.’

If you’re a thirsty person you’ll eat more food when you feel thirsty.

The same thing holds true for your body: if you feel thirsty when you feel thirsty it’s because you are thirsty.

If you’re hungry, and your body is dying from lack of water you will give something to eat.

I just put out this:

When you are thirsty, you feel thirsty.

You are thirsty because of the thirst of your body, but your body will lose its natural energy when you drink food.

Your body will die from food when you are thirsty.

It will die because your body is dying from thirst, and then your body will lose its natural energy when you drink.

If you’re hungry, and your body is dying from lack of water you will give something to eat.

It will die because your body is dying from hunger, but your body will lose its natural energy when you drink.

The other interesting thing about this part of my book, is that it’s


======== CHECKPOINT 008 OUTPUT # 003 ========

fle, that is with the body that is dead; and from that moment he may give his name, to his remembrance and remembrance for their sins, and then he will die and be buried with us, and, being buried in heaven, he will be delivered from this world.”

[8] Then was said, “O my mother! where thou hast set thy face, I shall never see thy face again.”

And I said to her: “You have done well, you have done well; but where art thou now in my house? I will let thee go.”

“O, then, my dear daughter! where do thy lips hide their lips?”

“Where have they hid their lips?”

“Where are thy hands? where have they concealed their hands? where do they hide their hands?”

“Let them hide their hands, then.”

“But thou art there, not so, O girl, for thy sake, what I have sought for thee.”

“Why, this am I, not so?”

“I am a son of a widow, and now I am your mother, I know what thou dost to me, but thou dost not speak, for thou didst not live, nor didst she know. Let me tell thee, your father, that thou hast taken away our house from us and from thy heart the life which was mine, and it did not make for our mother; it did not make for you. I have given it to thee.

“To him thou have no right to leave, to me thou dost, and to me thou have no right to leave: therefore, behold, it is not mine who doeth what thou sayest, but not what you say: therefore, my sister, you are my enemies, as they are mine, and I am your friends: but I am not a slave to thee, nor am I a slave to thee; nor am I your friend to thee: I am your slave, not as you are mine, nor as I am yours.

“Wherefore, then, how art thou dost say that thou art not a slave to me?”

“Because thou hast not the means to pay; wherefore, why didst thou say that I didst take away thy means from thee? but I do not know where, and I know not what thou dost to me, but thou dost not speak, for thou didst not live, nor didst she know. Let me tell thee that thou dost say, that it is not mine who doeth what thou sayest, but that thou dost not know, that I am thy enemy, and I am your friend, and that thou dost not make me an enemy: this doeth not change either what thou didst make or what thou didst make.

“That is a mistake! but let me tell you, that thou didst not kill my dear friend, nor didst she know that I would kill her: but thou dost not say to her: since she didst tell me, I will not do it.

“I will kill thee!”

“O, then, my dear girl! where didst thou hide thy lips?”

“I hide my lips, thou hast hid your teeth. I have never been there before, nor did I ever have. Thou didst tell me this, for I did not know thee.”

“You lie! yet thy tongue will not speak.

“This is true, that I should not have lived with you before thou didst kill me.”

“Then why didst thou say that I didst kill him?”

“Because I do not believe that if I had, you would have slain him; that is why I should not have killed him.

“But what dost thou say that he should not have been slain, or should not have been slain? why then didst thou say that I did not kill him? because I do not believe that if I had, I would have slain him: why then didst thou say that I did not kill him? why then didst thou say that I did not kill him? why then didst thou say that I did not kill him? I did not kill him, but if you did, it did not change me that you doth.

“I do not say this, but I shall tell thee that I did not kill him. I am not the murderer in this world, but the victim in this world: I am the good man, the friend to you, and you are mine, and you are mine; I am the one who loves you.

“O, then! my dear, how didst thou come to the world to find me in it; for there I am, but there are not many whom I love, and you love me; you, my dear,


======== CHECKPOINT 008 OUTPUT # 004 ========

financial one-time expense in the name of the customer.

We have seen this done with companies in China, Malaysia, Japan, Ireland, and Italy in this fashion. You might call them the world’s largest supplier of products to U.S. consumers in this fashion, but their reputation remains as high as the name, and is seen to be an over-the-top cost.

Even for one company that has a very long history of not just having a product, but a brand, these are high costs.

For a brand that has been in this fashion for decades, it is just a matter of time before their reputation becomes untenable.

The question in the U.S. is whether or not this business is worth it.

A great company that has done all of its business within the confines of being a small firm would be out of their league.

This is not so.

The question is whether the company is worth it.

A company that is in business must provide a competitive advantage to customers that they are willing to pay for.

A company that is in business must provide a service.

This is what we believe.

It is the right thing to do.

To have any advantage over an adversary is not an easy thing to do.

The good news is that we don’t need to worry about the price of our own products.

It is our right and duty to serve those with whom we serve.

The bad news is that we can always look forward to an opportunity to grow.

One can see that we were all that we had in store to provide the service we wanted to provide.

What would have been our business was to serve as a base for those who were willing to buy the company or give a gift for it.

Those who were willing would not be in need of assistance.

And if it were their right, they would be free to do so.

To think we had the power to help them is to be mistaken.

The business of your father had a price.

It was an important thing to you.

You are well-meaning, noble, and loyal, but you are not the real man.

You have made a mistake.

You have not done your duty.

You must live up to the promise you make.

This is what you owe me.

If I had taken that pledge, I would not have been able to pay it.

To owe me, is what you owe me.

I have to live up to that promise.

I have to pay my debt, and make this payment.

I have to pay the debts of others who have been hurt and neglected.

You owe me, and I owe you.

I owe you because you are willing to help.

You owe me because you see the other side of me, and I owe you because you are willing to help.

You owe me because you think I am a good man.

You owe me because you feel that I am more than you.

You owe me because I have done a service that you may not have done.

The more your service is done, the more your satisfaction becomes greater.

You are the true king.

This is what your success is.

Your failure is your own fault.

This is what is yours to suffer.

You do what you can for your own sake.

We are not your friends; we are your enemies.

We do not have all the advantages of each other.

To be in love with the most beautiful and most beautiful man in the world is a good thing to do.

But to have done it, we can never do it ourselves.

The greatest pleasure we can gain by seeing you can never be truly lost.

If I could, I would not spend my whole life in prison for not being able to do it.

The more I learn to live, the happier and more happy I am.

In my time I will give every one what he asks for.

And no one will deny my need.

To live with dignity and self-respect is so much better than to have a private life.

If you do not live with dignity and self-respect, then I will not allow you to live with me.

If I live with dignity and self-respect, then I will not let you live with me.

It is an act that is more dishonorable than the act itself.

I will be sorry to hear that you are sorry to hear that I am sorry.

If you can make it happen, I will help you, but I won’t forgive you.

If you can make it happen, I will help you


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women.

“They told me ‘no, please let me make it easier for you, I don’t care.’”

“What do you mean?” asked the young woman.

“Why, no, I don’t care,” said the king. “I don’t know how they do it, and what do you mean?”

“Do they say that they will show me what they think they are, or do you mean they will show me?” said the young girl.

“No, not that I do, not at all,” answered the king. “They’ll only think it is because they are mad with me, and that I should care; but it’s not, and I can’t do it, for I know what you do, and I can’t, since they can’t say anything without what they think. I’ll just do it, and then I shall make you wait.”

“And if I don’t see that, why are you afraid?” asked the young girl.

“Because my eyes are red from the heat, and from all my cares I can’t see them. I’ll get on with the work, and then it is time for me to leave.”

“Why do you say I want it, then?”

“You did tell me that I am no more than your servant.”

“My heart, and you are my mistress!” cried the boy.

“I knew she would say it, but never did I, and never will.”

“Then your mistress did tell me how you got here and why you did what you did, and why I never knew why you did what I did. Do you have any more things to ask of me?”

“For how did you know that? You never told me how you got to where I am, and you never told me the reason why you did what you did; why did you believe that you did what you did? I never saw you leave your room, but if I did see you leave my room I would know all you were up to in this matter; the first one that ever touched me was when I was asleep, and she told me the reason why you did what you did, and she was very sorry; it’s true, but when I looked at her she was quite silent; I heard the reason why she did what she did.”

“But what if you should not know?” inquired the old woman.

“Nothing I could say; for I love you with my whole heart, and I love you with all my heart.”

“Then, your mistress says that you want to leave her, for there are many things I know that can do with you, but nothing that I know of that will not do with me.”

“Now it is clear,” said the boy, “that you cannot see me, nor do you want my eyes to see you; but I am only what I am, and you are nothing but my mistress. Therefore, I will do nothing more; but if my mistress can see me she will find me, and then she shall not tell me what I should do.”

“You say you do, but I cannot see you?”

“I do see you, but I cannot say anything; and my heart is afraid of being caught off guard.”

“But you do, my dear, as it were.”

“Why then? I love you, and I love you so deeply that if I could leave you I should have left you alone; but my heart would not leave her, and so I will leave you alone.”

“Then what, then?”

“What can it do for you?”

“Oh, to think this to be true.”

“How could it ever be true, when it must be true so often?”

“My heart cannot tell me this, but my heart is full of this, and to see it filled with the power that it knows to be the true and eternal love of me so well as this, will, I think, at least, make me believe you.”

“I do believe it,” said the boy.

“You must admit I cannot help it; but your heart, when it sees you, feels a great pain; and if my heart could understand, if it could find me, I would do what I ought to do; but for this you must show me how you want me to do, and how you feel for me. I will tell you, then, how I love you more than all the rest of them, and I will show you what I do more than all of them.”

“When you say this, you are at an end of something, as you wish, and as you wish you should do, so I’ll do whatever I should do.”

“Then tell me, I beg of you,” said the old woman; “tell me


======== CHECKPOINT 009 OUTPUT # 001 ========

businessmen.

After the success of his “surgical” and “scientific” revolution, a few years later his followers began to turn the same old old mistakes upon him.

What did I say?

This is a short summary of my thoughts and observations on the subject, that I have tried to make with some caution to prevent the reader from being deceived by such impositions.

“The Roman government could not have devised laws or decrees in favour of a government which is unbecoming in the heart of men, but not altogether evil. How should it have known how to prevent such a thing as this? Were it so good, would it not be more wise to seek to make every law against every crime, every crime against every law against every law against every law against every law? If there were any law against every thing, there would be no law against every law in favour of it. I may be wrong in that I believe all laws against every thing, but they were all evil, not of any one but of two, or of some other but of all the gods.

“The whole world had, I have shown you, the worst law of men, and none of them ever existed; but they should, that we may have some way of avoiding it.

“In your favour, my dear Roman, your words did not, I think, express in the strongest tone of your heart, or in the strongest tone of your tongue, that you would have wished them the same way as they wished you to feel them. I am not ready to give you your life to die. I have done so, and I will not live in your pain.

“Let the most solemn and glorious triumphs of the old age, and your triumphs that may yet come of all ages, be remembered and remembered not as they seem but as they must be remembered.

“I have no more to do with your death, nor shall I ever do with yours, and no less in the course of your suffering and your sorrow.

“Your mother and my sister were in your life; yet she did not live to see me die, and you did not die to see her die.

“I have seen, by the great blood of the dead, that no part of the world could have such a beauty as yours.

“I have seen, by the blood of the dead, that all beauty is of no value whatsoever, and I am sorry that you have not been able to make me so, and then I will be able to make you as happy as you were, or at least as it seems possible that I should be able to be so.

“I have been at peace with you; and you have been at peace with me.

“I am happy when you think to your mind, you being the cause of my happiness, I believe you have all the happiness you can possess.

“I have my son and I love him dearly; but what I wish was not my son, but for my mother, I hope to live one life long, but not in your life, for I desire that you should be as well pleased as you would have been if you did not have my son.”

I did not mean to contradict myself with my own words, but to make clear that what I thought to be certain, did not appear to be true, or even to be true in any case, or to be true in the case of any, which I may have done, but which I shall not do.

“I do not suppose your mother would have been able to have taken her husband with her to Rome; but she will not be able to have taken him with her to Rome, as I say, not to Rome as the Roman woman would have done, and to do this in a thousand ways, if she wished to take advantage of her time, for they must be used as the time for a new life to be born and lived; but if I did not do to you what I should not do, it would not be in my interest to do anything for you to do.

“Why did you keep your head of peace with him, and not leave him in peace with me? Why did you so refuse to see my mother in her grief, as if she should have kept her head of peace with you?

“How can you know that he should not know how to live without you?

“What is your fault that you do not think you cannot live, that he must think you cannot live?

“I am not guilty of being guilty, though I am in your face, but do not have to blame myself for being guilty.

“When I had been in prison for twenty-four hours, he told me he was going to be a better physician. He promised him this, and as he did so he was forced to do it; but what was worse, he


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Leaks by the U.S. government’s National Security Agency and a report from the U.S. Government Accountability Office that has been filed with the Obama administration.

The leaks came on top of the NSA’s use of the G-20 summit to gather intelligence on how people were using the Internet to engage in “criminal activities.”

Obama himself has said he needs to review intelligence about the program to make sure it is being used in a responsible way.

“As I speak, there’s a good argument that we should be careful,” he said of the new information. “So I want to know if we need it, and I want to be the first to ask this: If you don’t have that, then we have no power.”

The government, which has the authority to share all this information with the private sector, said it doesn’t share classified information but that “it’s hard to see how there’s an excuse not to do it.”

Some people, however, say it’s time that the public share the details of their information with the intelligence community, as the public is being misled and lied to by its own government.

“It’s very difficult for you to find anything that’s classified. So to get it straight, I want to show you this. So the NSA and the CIA, you know, have the tools, to figure out how you’re going to get all this, but what’s your use, and how you’re going to go to get it, and where you’re going to put it, and what you’re going to do,” said one retired CIA intelligence official, who asked not to be named.

“But what the public doesn’t know about the stuff is what the public does know. It can’t be that simple, because there’s going to be consequences for people doing it, and what they do is their own worst act of disobedience,” added the retired intelligence official. “If it’s that simple, then I am not sorry to say I’m with you in this, and so you know that you’re not alone, but if you want to change the story then you must get out of this mess.

“My name is Charles. My country is not on this planet to ask me to stop, but to ask me to do something.”

When he was younger, Charles was known for being a strongman and an independent thinker. He had a large government and was known as a strongman who did not care about politics or national security.

While at Harvard University, he took a course in political science at Princeton that he said showed how to deal with what he saw as the dangers posed by the “cyberspace age.”

“And as soon as I went to Princeton and I got a master’s degree, I got a doctorate from that school, and I began thinking about how we could make an Internet of our own that would be much more powerful than the NSA. And one day, I realized that we had to get this done because we’d already got it through the civil service and that’s when I thought: well, if I don’t do this I might as well die at the hands of a foreign power, and I’ve got this on the ground that I have a duty to do it, so I’ll have to do it, and there’s something that makes me think I’ve got that right, I’ll have to do it, but it makes me think I can do it.”

“It’s kind of like having a new kind of gun in your hand,” he said of what he believed would be a better use of a gun than a self-defense weapon. “It’s kind of like having a new kind of gun in your hand.”

“I thought I had some great idea to start with, and I think it was great enough to start in the first place,” he said. “But I did it all wrong, and it was so wrong that I thought it was wrong that I should try to do it. And then when I thought of it, I thought it was wrong again, and I thought it was right. I think I was wrong to begin with, but I did it well enough, and then it was time for a new idea.”

“That’s when I began to think that something would be done, that I could do something better,” he said. “And I tried. And you know what happened is that, as you read this, I got more than I had in my time, and there are many things in the world that could be done, and it was not enough.”

“And when you do make this, you should be free,” said Charles, laughing and looking dazed. “And I will not allow myself to give up.”

‘I cannot be held accountable’

As he prepared to walk down a dark hallway, he was met with silence, followed by a loud gasp from each of the guards behind him.


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crystal: an altar of Iskenderun exists in you

In the sky is a golden ring;

And a curse,

From the heaven of a fire that burns.

The air is hot, the cold air cold

But that which doth not lie

On the clouds,

So long as the night’s sun shines

Through the smoke-dust

His brow is not cold,

Nor is his head,

Nor his face cold;

For the sky’s tempest is cold,

He must die to the wind,

He must die to the wind,

He must die to the wind,

he must die to the wind,

the sun will not rise in your sight;

The sky is all bright and free,

All that is dark will not doth shine;

The earth shall not be silent;

The clouds, and the hills shall not be touched;

And the stars, and the moon shall not shine

In the clouds of the night:

What then?

Why, where do we leave him?

The reason he came forth,

So that he might see you.

The one with whom he had come,

Let him be gone from the field,

That, and that with him he may dwell.

For his reason he must return,

To the place where he hath been gone.

“Oh, my soul’s shame,

How many times, and many seasons,

Were so cold, that,
as he passed this night,

He could feel his eye and his heart

All at once,
as they both seemed
To make their bed:

To put on a coat of black,

Or a pair of black,

To cover his face with silk:

I am a woman,

My heart is mine;

I have the beauty and the sound:

I give to thee, thou, and my life to thee

And I trust to thee,

That thou, who is mine own,

Thou art my life, and not mine.

“What do I do, O my heart,

Where, by which I have lived,

How often did I sit?

When I had long gone on the edge,

Wherefore did I spend my night,

As I was in sleep,

Which I never forgot

When the wind was heavy,

And the clouds began to move,

And the stars began to glow

And the earth and the world grew dull:

I did not wish to be here.

Wherever thou art,

Where my hand should run,

Where my breast should sing,

Where my foot should rise;

I should be in thy place,

And my face should shine with love,

And my lips should flow with joy:

Wherefore do I go,

And my breast shall sing,

And my eyes shall fall.

“So what did you say?”

“What did you do then,

And what did you do now?

And what did you say to me then,

and why did you leave me,

That I must wait upon thee,

And this, and this, and this, and this,

For my own sake,

For my sake, that thou hast seen me,

To know my beauty!

What did you do then,

That I should not wait on thee,

So long was my life from thee,

That thou didst wait;

So long was my life from thee,

That thou hast waited upon me;

To have me wait’d, and to wait’d,

For my sake, for my sake,

When thou wast not with me,

Who should have thee wait’d?

“How long, and how long,

Are I waiting on thee,

And why should I wait,

But what did you have done now,

And what did you do now,

That I have waited upon thee;

So long have I waited on thee,

That thou didst wait upon me,

To have me wait’d, and to wait’d,

For my sake, for my sake,

To keep thee from me,

Thy heart is so sweetly sweet;

For all that is mine, and all that is mine,

Is like unto my heart.

My love and thy love are as many

Of one who has lived,

Of one whose heart is strong,

And one


======== CHECKPOINT 009 OUTPUT # 004 ========

er-like man with glasses.

He sat down to her and did his best to speak softly. “What do you say?” he asked; and she replied, in a quiet voice: “I told you so. I told you so.”

“What?” said he. “What do you say now? I did not think so. I did not think so when I looked you in the eyes in that eye-mushroom. I thought you a foolish little boy.”

“Ah, that is all,” answered she, and turned to her former self. “Did you see me?”

“No,” replied he, “you saw me.”

“If you did, I must return you; it will not do me any good to be in this state; so I have made you promise not to go to that dreadful state which your mother says she was in before you, to that which she says she was in afterwards, to that which I say she did.”

“You are mad, but I will go to the old house, where I am always with you,” said he, with an air of reproach. “I see you look back, and there is no longer so much of me. I am sorry that you did not see what you did, but I would like to show you how much more I did see what I did before you. It was only when you came to me, and I thought you with me that you did not see me, that you were frightened by what was happening with your eyes and you did not fear my strength, and did not fear it, for in my eyes I saw the sun burning in the dark sky, and you were asleep, but still you were still awake, so that there might be more daylight. I shall be in this place now, and not in the same room.”

“You will not be asleep again,” said she, and went out to see if she could hear him.

“My dear, do not take away that part of my heart; you will make a fine piece.”

“And you do not see that my eyes are still full of blood?”

“No; I see no more blood.”

“That is a lie. Tell me what I did and I will tell you, in a little voice, what I saw. I did not see you. I did not see you.”

“Well, well, what did I see?”

“The naked woman, who was looking at me from the bottom of her black breast, and she did not see me.”

“My father, you must be my father.”

“My father!” cried she; but she did not tell him what she did.

“It was so, in a fair way, for what a poor creature can look on his father’s face so well, when he is so weak!”

“What did I see now? your eyes were full of blood. I was afraid of you; I did not feel any heat in you.”

“What do you mean?”

“That your eyes do not know me; but I knew you were afraid of that, but you were not afraid.”

“What, do you think I am a fool, because I have seen you as you were, yet as the most beautiful woman that ever lived?”

“I do not think so; for though I had not, the thought of your eyes was still fresh, which you have always seen me; and now it was like that; and I know not where I am. I am not at rest, or I cannot rest, or I cannot be, nor can I ever be.”

“O thou who art my father? and why hast thou come so far away, wherefore hast thou hast come so fast, to leave me here so soon, and I am thus so much lost. O thou who art mine father, the world must go on, and that which I have seen shall be so full that no one will perceive, no one will see, and so many things shall follow, that there may be no living thing, no living thing, no living thing, but will be a little one, and not one in love; and that which is good in me is so good in all things, that my heart is made up of such things that it will not feel. O thou who art my father, the world must go on, and that which I have seen shall be so full that no one will perceive, no one will see, and so many things will follow; that which is good in me is so good in all things, that my heart is made up of such things that no one will see; and that which is good in me is so good in all things, that no one will feel, no one will feel, and yet I am not so much lost, but still I am so well and so well. If thou art not thy


======== CHECKPOINT 009 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Y.B.I.T.’s former agents:

“The thing is, I’ve been trying to do it for years now. I think it would be great to have something to do with ‘Groucho Mars’ but no! So I’d like to do a bit of music with him. He’s always done that thing with his brother, but then he’ll tell you he’s not done with it so much and you’re gonna have to watch him do it.

“So let’s just go for a little while, I don’t know what’s going to happen but, ’cause you think that’s the one, you see what he’s done with me, and it’s the one that’s so good to see and you think that’s the wrong thing for me to do and then I’ll say that’s it, and you’re in love with him, what’s wrong with me?”

The next morning, when he had a piece of bread, his face was red as a pancake. The other side, when it had shrunk to nothing, sat in the shade, with all the stains he had made, as if she had seen him through some kind of vision, as if he had a piece of silver in his eyes.

“My dear, I saw him as he looked through his mirror to his own self,” she told him in tears.

“Well, let me look in his eyes again, or else I’ll be like that.

“If you want, you can leave the book, as if I’d let you do it if you want. But no, no, no, no, you must leave the book.”

“No, I want it right now,” replied the old man, as if he had been told to. “Let me see it, as quickly as possible, and we’ll do our fair, well-deserved rest.

“Oh, my dear dear! I have seen you with tears in your eyes, I’ve seen you as if you’d been alive, but now you’re so sad that you cry!

“Why, what kind of you are, if not of a sort like your brother! how can I blame you for my sorrow, it’s not for your good so much? I’ve already seen the poor thing, and I have yet to know what to do with it, but it’s quite enough to make me feel all this joy and sorrow at last.

“What do you mean when you say you have seen what I saw before me?”

“If you don’t see this, I’ll tell you what I saw before you. And I will make a show of it.

“Well, look, look, it’s not in your face. It’s in mine. I’d better not take it, that’s for sure.

“And that’s what you see—it’s all in your face. But your lips are not the same, you know?

“It’s not the face I see, dear. The face I see, and I like it so much that I don’t feel I can make my face stop; but my lips are now gone, I feel a little sad, and I want to break it for good, but I can’t, for I love you, I feel it is not good.

“And how shall you tell me why I should love you so much when you still don’t love me, that you will do me no good if I love you, or give you your eyes, for that, dear poor thing, is such a horrible thing as is your eyes, and the same is true with yours as it was before you began.

“Well, I guess it will be worth my while, but I still must go to Paris to make my stay of it.

“So, dear old man, let me tell you about your little love. I mean, love is such an instrument as to make you feel what it means to be, and that in this sense it’s so beautiful and so wonderful; but love and what else is that better than life, and what you love more than your love can bear?

“You know this, dear young man, that I see your beauty every night with my eye.

“No, it’s not what’s in your face, your dear young beauty, but your face, and your face’s face’s face, and the one of me, and your face’s face, and my heart’s heart’s heart, and your heart’s heart’s heart, and your heart’s heart’s heart’s heart—but here’s another, this old man’s heart, and his heart’s heart’s heart’s heart.

“I do love you very much, but I don’t know what to do with it; but as I do love you, and do see you with your eyes, I must see the beauty of it, and then,


======== CHECKPOINT 010 OUTPUT # 001 ========

FY

Drew Brees, 6’3, 220, redshirt senior:

– A little over 1,200 yards, including four touchdown catches

– No. 2 running back in the nation

– Had five TDs in three starts

– The last-place running back in the country

– Had an 87-yard touchdown run on his first carry

– Had five catches for 31 yards or longer

– Three years older than his best friend (Jordy Nelson)

– Two straight seasons with five NFL titles (2002-07, 2011-15)

– Recorded his second career 100-yard game on the way to his 11th career 100-yard game with five catches

– A three-time winner of Super Bowls

– Fought in his second straight game in Week 16 against the Bengals (Sept. 4)

– Had five catches for 31 yards or longer

– Three of his five TDs, including a pair of TD’s, came on deep plays in the endzone

– Had three touchdowns, including a pair of TDs on a run in the second half

– Had three catch, one catch-no-doubt TD, in the third quarter

– Had three rushes for 18 yards or longer

– Was held to no. 1 in the Heisman Trophy voting by ESPN in the late fall of 1996

– Has won more than 40 games as a pro and all but one of those came in Super Bowl XXIX

– His career carries average of five yards per carry (4.8 per carry)

– In just three seasons, he has carried four touchdowns, including his three-touchdown season

– The former Alabama State standout started his first game for the Rebels, a win in the final minute of the second half

– Had one game with a sack, which was tied for the second-most by a QB in the league

– The No. 3 running back in the country was a Heisman finalist for the first time in his career

– Has two interceptions in five straight starts and has four forced fumbles in one postseason

– He’s one of just four players in NFL history to score in a game with more than 100 yards and a touchdown

– Has more than 40 receptions, which he had in five of his past six seasons

– A two-time All-American (2005-06, 2007-08 and 2009-10)

– Has been named to the all-time list of all-time running backs by Sports Illustrated

– Has won nine Super Bowls, including a title and the Heisman

– A five-time Pro Bowl selection

– An All-American at LSU

– A two-time First-Team All-American at Michigan State

– A five-time All-Great American in 2000

– Six times played in a season, and twice was named to the league All-Pro team

– Had nine career 100-yard games and four straight 100-yard games

– Had three touchdown passes, including a one-yard run in the fourth quarter of a tiebreaking drive

– Had a three-catch, one-yard reception with a handoff in the endzone

– Three times, as a senior, he led the Tide to a 12-point victory over Alabama (Sept. 5)

– The Tide came up short on a drive with the ball on the ground in the second half when the team got on the ground

– Had a touchdown of his own and a safety on a third down play

– Had a second, and a third, on a return pass against the Cowboys in a first-and-goal at the end zone

– Has now tied for fourth in all-time rushing yards, and ranks second all-time in passing yards.

– A four-time SEC Defensive Player of the Year

– A four-time All-SEC selection

– One of only three wide receivers to play with five touchdowns on at least one attempt since 1985 (Bryant Johnson)

– Has a perfect 16-yard catch-return percentage, a third-best in the game (second only to Calvin Johnson)

– Has four forced fumbles in five consecutive games, which rank second in the league

– Had five receptions for 93 yards

– Had a team-high five catches for a touchdown

– Had a season-high 12 carries for a touchdown in three games for the third time

– Had five catches, with a touchdown catch in the third quarter

– Four touchdowns in three games, with the first three rushing and a second on the ground

– Has the longest all-purpose field goal field goal (34.7 yards, five touchdowns)

– Has three touchdowns in three games, the second of which came in the fourth quarter


======== CHECKPOINT 010 OUTPUT # 002 ========

verages a few hundred of the new ones. And there are no more, no more.

“But what is the matter, then, that you must think you have an equal right of being so good at my service?”

“It may be; I want nothing to do, as you know, for I will not, in my own heart, let you leave me to do it myself.

“I have your honour, my dear dame.”

“I have been so well deserved, but if you’d ask me what I did wrong, I would say it all is as bad as I think it is, though I may not seem to be so. I am not here to write all this, to ask you what I have done wrong or did wrong.

“You are right.”

“I love you.”

“But I have thought of nothing else than your kind friendship to bear the pain, and will not allow that pain, my dear dame.”

“You do not know why?”

“No; but when I go, I must do what will bear the best to you.

“How are you going now, my dear dame? I will not be there till you see me.”

“What? what have you done wrong, my dear dame?

“The worst thing that you did is that I put my love in your face; for it was not a true thought, but only an affront, a false excuse.

“If you did not know, then you are the reason I made the love of your life.”

“O my darling dame! you have no shame, your dear dame.”

“Well, if you please, I will be right in taking up my duties, your good-will may have occasion for you to be more than a child, but I am your husband.”

“For whom, then, in that you have so much honour?”

“For my sake; to give my love and yours a happy and happy life, it must have to be your good.

“You are, my dear dame,” said she; “your dear dame, your dear dame, your poor dame, my dear dame, your poor dame, my dear dame, your poor dame, my dear dame, my dear dame, my dear dame, my dear dame, my dear dame, my dear dame;

“I am afraid, my dear dame,” said she again, “this is not my wish, not my desire;

“I can have no help from you, my dear dame; this is nothing to do with you.

“Your dame,” said she, “tell me how you will feel if I hear what I say;

“You will do your best to stay, you will not leave your way to my sight.”

“Do you love me, my dame?”

“No, dear dame; you love me that you love me.

“You love the devil, you love him that you love him.

“Love to live; you love to be loved;

love to hear; you love to feel;

Love to be loved; you love to feel.

“O dear dame, you love the devil, you love him that you love him.

“Do not be so hard for love’s sake; but remember:

“I love you now; but how, and what, is it?

“You love not your wife, your dear dame;

“You love your wife, your dear dame, but

“Do you love your dame, or your dame alone, or what,

“Or how, and what, and what, and what, and what, and

“Are not your dame’s?”

“And where is my dame’s?”

“But I do not,

“And where am I; but where is my heart?

“My dear dame, your dear dame, my dear dame,

“Do not you see me, my dear dame, my dear dame,

“And where am I?”

“O dear dame!

“O dear dame!”

“O dear dame!

“You must be ashamed, your dear dame;

“I hate you, my dame;

“O my dear dame, my dear dame;

“I hate you, my dame;

“I hate you, my dame;

“What I love you for, O dear dame, is your heart a sweet kiss,

My love for you, your dear dame;

“To love


======== CHECKPOINT 010 OUTPUT # 003 ========

UEFA was in trouble for many years.

“It will be a hard, hard season but with the players on the pitch, especially in the front of the net, we have got the best chance of going for the title,” said Wenger.

“I am delighted with the way the season has been played and I hope this will be a new start for the club.

“We know we need more speed and we are ready for this challenge.

“We know we will have to go in the right direction and we know we will do better than we were last year.

“We will have a chance to win the league and I think I do expect that to be the case.

“We have had so many good games that this season’s season is better than the one before it but we did not have the necessary quality to compete well.

“I thought we did well but then things changed in our favour.”

Wenger is set to take his place in the centre of the attack at the start of next month’s Champions League, which takes place between Italy and Germany.

The club announced his arrival in the summer with the goal of winning the title and now look to start their own Champions League campaign.


======== CHECKPOINT 010 OUTPUT # 004 ========

Lum, they will not be able to hear it, and their eyes will not see; but their thoughts will be full of it, and their thoughts are all that they possess; not knowing them at once they will believe it, and the world will not know that they had it for the use of them.

And behold, in this world there is nothing to know, that I am acquainted with but of this world: for the things of nature are not here present, but that which befits them.

And behold, my eyes, whose mouths are not shut, and my eyes which have not seen are not shut, behold, that the heavens are like unto a lamp to my eyes, but which I cannot see: wherefore do I call my eye wide, and behold the same lamp, but not see my own eyes, wherefore do I call my eyes wide: and behold, I did say, behold, the brightness of thy sight is like unto the brightness of the sun, but this is not, as they say, that thou shalt see and hear it, which thou doest with mine own eyes, to hear all which are in my eyes which I have not seen.

And now, behold, my eyes are not blinded, nor are my eyes blind: for I have seen that, and they that look on me, they are blinded, and the sight of them I have not seen, as being the sight of my own eyes; for I see in them that I do not see, and this I have not seen, and yet they that look on me do not see.

For behold, my eyes are not blinded; for I have seen the world, and am not blinded: for I have seen what I have not seen, and I do not perceive what I have not seen, because these are my own eyes, because they are my own eyes, seeing my own image; and now behold, my eye is not blinded, but I have seen the world, and am not blinded.

For behold, my eyes, wherein I do not see, and where I do not see; for behold, where I do not see, I hear, which I do not hear, and there is nothing to see but that I do hear.

O behold, my eyes, which are not blind, nor my eyes, nor my eyes, nor my eyes, nor my eyes, nor my eyes, neither my eyes, nor my eyes, nor my eyes, neither my eyes, nor my eyes, neither my eyes, nor my eyes, nor my eyes, nor my eyes, nor my eyes, nor my eyes, nor my eyes, nor my eyes, nor my eyes, nor my eyes, and my eyes, nor my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and my eyes, and


======== CHECKPOINT 010 OUTPUT # 005 ========

heroism: his eyes were wide with envy, and his voice with contempt, and his lips were like salt: and the king’s eyes were filled with joy, and he filled his brow with tears, and made every thing to feel so sweet that a child did not weep in the same way; and it was a time when some of the most beloved maidens, when they came together in love, became much more lively than before.

“What an idle tale!” said she, in a voice which astonished all, but it would not make out his face; “how in vain, for love’s sake, did you tell me how your life is to be lived?

“How many days shall I live without being able to say what’s more wonderful, if I should ever find myself in your arms? I know the time; I will live it, and there I’ll live till I die! I wish I could find you on earth, and I shall be sure, I know; but I should never leave the earth without a vow of fidelity to the gods, and I would give every thing that I had before I went home.

“Now you see this, my darling, but if I can’t live with it, I will be gone.

“It is my wish that you all live, and that you all die; but if that does not happen, all that was my desire will be to keep them in my hand; for I fear death and love, and this is your doom, and I am your love.

“You see I am so strong that I fear death more than life, and then again do what I should have done.

“If you like, stay away; but if you fear your love, you must not be so weak, or what you fear be no love, I will be your love.

“I am so strong that I can resist you by the same reason you can resist me.

“Do you now imagine that I have never had a father; or that my mother would say, ‘Dear sister, you were a daughter of my father’s, and she was born to me, but he is dead,’ but I tell her that she was born to me, and is dead still; and, if you like, then he shall take you and he shall make you partakers of my love, if you like to live without me; if you like to live with him, and he shall take you and he shall make you my friend; if you like, then I will have him and my own, and I will have him and I will have him my friends.

“I must say that I must not let this be told to you, for I am sure I cannot stand to be in it; for this love, this world, this world, will not be true, I know not, but if I do, it will.

“Your eyes are on me, but there is nothing else but me.

“Here comes my dear, dear friend; I have it as a wish, I give it up, but not from you; my love, your love will never kill me.

“Let me tell you this true and true, for I have seen your life grow so green and so hot in your womb.

“The day is coming to pass when I will live; so that when you see my child’s tears in your eyes I shall not feel guilty: I know they do not grow sweet-crowned tears, but rather they fill the sweet-crowned, and they fill me in sweet-crowned delight.

“For what purpose did it make you weep?

“What are you doing?” cried your sister. “If I do this, what purpose will I do?

“For love’s sake, it is mine to make thee happy, for it’s my self’s purpose; that is why I desire that you should weep.

“And thou hast given me the night,

Thy love is mine, thy love belongs to me.

“If thou hadst been with me, thou wouldst not have left me to see you.

“My dear, it is time to depart from this world;

If that I do, my love should not be dead;

For my love is my father’s love;

My love shall not die.

“I, my love, do not leave me!

“If thou didst make me happy, I do not know how to make you happy.

“My love cannot live but in me:

The reason why thou art here, thy heart may say,

Why thou hast brought me this night;

I, my heart may say,

Why thou hast so loved my heart;

I love thy love so much,

That thou art my dear,

that I must love


======== CHECKPOINT 011 OUTPUT # 001 ========

encourages as “a sort of sacred ceremony,” and she had already had some of the wits of a certain one, the master of those wits.

The young master began to speak with a tone of mild amusement;

“For a long time I have lived and seen the world to be so rich,

That no wonder I have been so sad of it,

Yet I still am troubled, and do think a great many things can be.

For if this are the last,

My soul shall die a thousand times,

In spite of those faults and faults,

That I have seen my dear master to the end.

“What are these faults that I am now making?

Are they the defects of life,
that I am now doing

This life? to what end?”

“My soul will die,” replied the stranger, “
And never did any one with me,
ever saw a single man,

But I never see the world so full of beauty,

Which still lives in such small measure,

as I now love, yet never did I see his face.

“My self-love, my self-respect, my self-love

are the objects of your self-love,

For what is that which I shall do?”

“And then he, too, that is your self,

Who takes up your self in love,
And in thyself, who gives love to it,

And in thee, the self-love that takes up the self-love,

Who can be seen to love thy self?”

The child with the young master,

Would not give to his love, and with love to his child,

With no self-love in love with that child’s body,

But he must have, his self, in his body,

And at his bed-chamber, in his bed-room,

Under his bed, in his chest,

In his bosom.

This is the way the poor child,

Which in the best days of his life

Wears, under his neck, an ear,

That keeps his ears in his ears

And then the ears sound,

When the ear-fear of the ear-fear of the ear-fear of the ear-fear,

Shakes him and the eyes, and all his thoughts,

And leaves him alone in the bed-chamber,

The bed-chamber, which in the best days of his life

Ought to be his heart,
for the sweetest heart lies

In the deep bed in the deep bed.

What a love, how sweet to thy sweetself,
so sweet to thy dear self!

To my self’s love, and my self’s love,

To my self’s self’s self, and my self’s self,

Which in a heart of mine, I can kiss,

And not in a heart of mine,

But a heart of mine, that in my heart I may kiss,

In my heart, that my love may be broken,

The sweet heart that in my heart might break,

And to my self’s self’s self,

Which my self’s self would be;

What my self’s self’s self, and my self’s self,

Where all my self’s self’s self’s self’s self

I could be no longer;

my self’s self’s self, the self’s self’s self,

But the self of me, my self’s self’s self,

My self’s self’s self, and my self’s self,

And the self of me, my self’s self’s self,

The self of me, my self’s self’s self,

And my self’s self, my self’s self,

My self, my self’s self’s self,

And mineself, mineself, mineself,

Myself, mineself, mineself,

myself, mineself, mineself,

myself, mineself, mineself,

mineself, mineself, mineself,

self, mineself, mineself,

myself, mineself, mineself,

Myself, mineself, mineself,

Myself, mineself, mineself,

Myself, mineself, mineself,

Myself, mineself, mineself,

Mineself, mineself, mineself,

myself, mineself, mineself,

Myself, mineself, mineself,

myself, mineself, mineself,

Myself, mine


======== CHECKPOINT 011 OUTPUT # 002 ========

portfolio will be used to provide information regarding the purchase of property on the leased property and the payment of certain security obligations which have a right to be paid out of the lease. This may be done by means of an agreement or other arrangement to make such information available in the form of electronic forms or by a form of correspondence or written form or by other means which shall be in the best interests of such lease.

“Lienholder” in this Section means a person holding on to the interest or debt of any of the tenants, with whom the lease is a part, but who has not expressly entered into an agreement with such person to purchase the interest or debt of such person, as the case may be, and not in connection with the lease, to lease to such person, as the case may be, to receive any interest or debt.

“Resident” in this Section means any one, whether or not a person in his or her right of possession, whether or not in his or her possession, of any real estate, or of any real property which the owner, tenant, lessee, or any other person, may purchase for himself or herself.

“Respect” in this Section means to regard as observant, to respect as observant, to regard with esteem as observant the good works of others, and to respect and respect the integrity and integrity of the rights of others.

“Respect” in this Section means to respect as observant the deeds of others, and the rights of others in respect of such deeds, or in respect of them.

“Respect” in this Section means to respect as observant, to regard as observant, to regard as observant the rights and right of others in respect of the acts and acts of others in respect of the deeds, and of their rights, deeds, or rights, and of their deeds to obtain the benefit or possession of others, or the benefit or possession of others’ rights, deeds, or rights to get rid of others’ rights, deeds, or rights; to gain, or by giving others advantage, in return for their satisfaction.

“Respect” in this Section means to respect as observant, to regard as observant, to regard as observant, to regard as observant, to regard as observant, to regard as observant, to regard as observant, to regard as observant, to regard as observant, to regard as observant, to regard as observant, to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, to regard as observant, to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard as observant, and to regard


======== CHECKPOINT 011 OUTPUT # 003 ========

��’s first year. I had gone to the old school of self-pity. For that one year my self-pity did not cease. The old girl, too, was no longer my mistress. I began to hear voices in my dreams, which, if true, did not seem to have a more distinct character than those I had heard from my dear old self.

“What are you thinking, my dear dear boy? have you been too far away, where you should not have seen this beauty to begin with? I, of course, will find no comfort in that.”

“She is going away to do, and this is her fault.

“But my dear boy, there is no longer a desire to see her like this.”

“When there is no danger to her, she cannot be left alone, for the world is no longer safe, and the world is in danger of loss.

“Ah, my boy, when I come to the old school, it will be my pleasure to learn of the new, and I shall prove myself a friend of her.

“Now, my dear boy, I shall tell you the truth, so that you may think better of them.

“But it is not your fault, nor mine alone, but your father’s; she has his ear, and hears her all, and she will not leave his ear, and I, with him, will hear no longer.

“So therefore, all that is in me is no longer with me; what lies behind this is the love of my dear child.”

“For she will find a kindred spirit, in whom she is wont to be in love with me.”

“If you wish to show me the world to which you have borrowed, tell me what of it you desire.

“As for her, I have learned all that you have heard, but it is for the sake of your love that I have taught you so many things; but there is no time to waste in the time spent on other things.

“Look at me, my boy, I am so much different from you that nothing can seem to me like my own, nor should one of my qualities resemble the other.

“Now, then, what do you want to hear of her so much, that you may not see her so in her life?

“If you did, you would have heard that it is her own being that gives her all of the world’s woes.

“And if you would not have, I will show you the world to which you are indebted, and where you owe me.”

“Ah, dear boy! now is your time of death to look on me like a child in the bed of the most hideous beauty, where she dwells for ever; where she is not with you, and in your hearts, and in your breast; where, when you desire to be rid of this world, I do give her a heart for her, and that of my own, to use the words of the learned, that she may learn to be kind.

“Now, then, dear boy, your life’s purpose is a happy one: I am your best friend; but I am not your friend in her heart, and therefore I am not your friend in her mind.

“I know that a good man is his most unthankful friend, and this love in me is my most unthankful friend, and this love in me is your most unthankful friend.

“But if I had known, my life would have been such a happy one as is the case with me, in which I would have had no means of repaying what I owe you.

“It is not that I did not owe you to you, it is that my life is so in love with you as to make no other things so unjust.

“To begin with, I do not want to say anything to you that you must not see a thing as it is; you must not be astonished at this sight, for even as she says, you must see her to be so, as if she were your friend, but no, for as soon as she sees her face, she is no friend in me; for this, she will be my friend, if she sees me.

“But I am not a friend in my heart; I am my child, if I must be, and you have made me, I must be yours, if you have never made me, and if not, how can I be happy?

“If the sun be true, the stars not true, and all the rivers true, then it is that is true, and I am a true self;

“If I am not my son, and I am your brother, then I am not true, and thou art my self; thou art not mine, thou art my friend, and


======== CHECKPOINT 011 OUTPUT # 004 ========

resembled it on her face.

“I know you will not think so,” said she.

“Have I been ill?”

“No,” answered she, “not that, though I am well, I am not well.”

“If you do, let him say what is necessary for your sake.”

“But you know I am sick, and want me to be patient, and for the rest to live like myself, and if you would wish to make a further appeal to me, I will not go to you, if you will not tell me where I am.”

“That is the meaning of it; I am in fear of having you hurt, so to speak.”

“No.”

“And for me, then,” said she, “that is the reason that you shall do this, my friend, in order that no harm may come upon you; I am you.”

She gave her hand to her head, and as she did so gave me a small kiss upon the cheek, which I gave her again, and as soon as I could do nothing I left her.

“Good night, dear sister, to-morrow, I will see you again.”

I went, and she went on her merry ways, and when she came I laid a fast watch for her going to her chamber, and I told her not to expect, but to come back, and leave a short time before she did so, I told her to sit, and then she put her eyes upon the window, and she began to weep, and cried out, and she made my bed ready.

“Where have you been?” cried she, crying out, “I am not well, I am not well in all my life, and I think you may have better friends.”

“I will be a help for him,” said I, “or a help for you, if you please me, for when you are in my bed you may not rest, but when you are asleep there is no rest, nor do I wish you any advantage in so labouring a poor man.”

“And why, if thou art poor, why am I poor, where thou art so poor?” said she, turning to me.

“My poor life!” said I; “not mine, not mine own.”

“What have I to do with this?”

“How will I go out to visit you,” said she, “and tell you what I am to do?—I am the worst of all your children, and all my enemies.”

“Well then, sister, I am the worse of your enemies, and I am to be revenged of my crime, not the other, and be put to death, and you, when you will repent, are my heirs, that you may give me pleasure.”

“Well then, dear sister, let me go, and I shall kill thee.”

“What, what have I to do with thy life, that thou, as thy servant, may not be so good to me, as that thou mayst live in the worst state of things, when thou hast the most advantage of my good life, that thou mayst live by my hand, and not in mine own; I will be thy servant, and all my labour to do that which thou mayst wish.”

“It is true, my dear, but it is true; I am not rich enough.”

“What is the thing thou doest so well?”

“Thou loveth not the best, but the best, and that is what thou desireth.”

“My love is that thou doest well, and it is the best that thou art well. I do not want it to be you that do my evil. Let me do my best that thou mayst be well and not my fault, though thou hast done this all for my purpose.”

“But I think I have not much desire, and thou have done me wrong.”

“I will be thy servant, and all my labour to do this will be my benefit; for I will do your evil; if thou dost do that which thou dost do, it is better for me than for thee, for my fault is my fault, which is thy fault, not my fault; thou hast done my fault, but for mine own fault, thou hast done me the best.”

“How far this may be done, my dear,” quoth she, “I shall never be able to stop thee, but I will be thy servant, and the servant of the poor, if you will stay a long time. I am afraid that if thy heart were a stone, he would be stone, but my heart hath a stone, and therefore my heart knows all. But I love thy virtue; and what a thing it is that I love thee to be, and that thou shouldst not live


======== CHECKPOINT 011 OUTPUT # 005 ========

ancies

In short, I hope this brief account of the whole of this subject, and other works of such kind, to which this publication gives credit, and with such due credit, by which it may be remembered, shall soon become known, by the many persons who are now in my power, or were with me for several ages, by their good work and by their love. I am so afraid that I cannot do anything more, that I am afraid of myself, and of others who, by their care, and for such a purpose, may yet live, by some act of self-surrender, for their own sake.

This will seem more than a mere statement of one case or one of several, but in fact I must speak to another, and you shall perceive where the truth lies:

That some one of the most learned men ever to be acquainted with this world, and yet such a man, as being most like themselves, is in great danger.

In truth, this is the first, and by that I mean to say, most difficult of all parts.

I shall proceed to say, that this is not the case of one of the most famous and most famous men in his day; but of one of the most illustrious, and most illustrious minds, which I have ever seen.

To the first man my name was not, in all my acquaintance with him, but in his own respect, not so much to be called as to be called but to be termed.

What do you tell us, that he hath some great ambition, not of his own, but of his own advantage?

I will tell you in short, that he is not a master, nor of any kind of skill, but that all the time he has ever been able to think, do, and do not imagine what the greater force, if that force were, should bring him hither.

A man so young, so bold and so self-restrained as to know how much, what little, what is to be lost?

That, on one occasion, to a fair and fair-haired woman, to a poor man, in a house on the edge of a river, and thence by the dashing sun or rain, to a mountain-like thing, and thence by the dashing wind, or by the dashing cloud, but in short, to a mountain, to some one, and then again to his mother, where she had a child.

When we return home, what shall we find in her, as to her mother, and in her heart what effect she may have upon him?

What effect, in what sense did you see her with such a large and beautiful head, and so much so long, that the same image of her having lived, with the whole of her body, in a place so large, so short, so far removed from the world, was ever seen in any other of your imagination, nor in your eye?

In what sense did you not perceive to be your father and mother’s body, when you were a boy?

What is your father’s eye, to do with it, and to do with it with us?

What should we do, where thou art so full of thought, that thou hast no other eyes than mine?

What is his sight to make of thee, to bring thy mind about, and to make thee see thyself?

And what is his will to do with thee, in the matter of his beauty?

What, why did thou so much care so much, and so much, for what did thou do for him?

What shall we do, what shall we do, how shall we do it?

What is his skill in all his conduct, in all his art, in all his talk, to render to his friends, and to confound all this to his advantage?

What should we do, what should we do, what should we do?

If thou hast such great power in my power, let him make my mistress to make my wife, and so shalt thou wilt be mistress of this world, by her grace, and by thy good looks and your love?

If thou hast not so great power in my power, let him make thy mistress, and so shalt thou wilt be mistress of this world, and by her good looks and your love?

But yet in that whereof shall I think, that I shall be to thee, as in a flower, where the light shall not lighten the night, and when the night shall not lighten, but still the light shall rise, and the clouds shall rise.

Who then hath not been deceived of the false meaning of thy thoughts?

‘What then will this world tell thee, that thou art not so kind, that thou art not so kind, to me, as mineself, that I live, and that


======== CHECKPOINT 012 OUTPUT # 001 ========

inatory for every form of theft or abuse;

And so will be their offence in their hands, if it be not so done,
Therefore be it unto them for an offence;
‘Nor so will it be done with them.
As many as shall think, if a man to kill a wife shall find no love of him,
He is dead, or he has nothing, that he might kill her more.
Thus, that every man should have some kind of virtue,
That no person is to be blamed, and all to be hated,
He should not be the cause, but he is what is,
But as no one hath a greater right in himself,
For it hath been granted him the privilege,
If he be, the king, and all his subjects shall be their subjects,
The kingdom is not to be but to be set in the hands of him.
‘For I do not wish thee to go in judgment of thy offences,
And it is for me to write it.
O then thou art mad, and canst be mad more than thyself;
Thou shalt not say thee mad or mad to thy neighbour,
If thou shalt say to my friend that thou art mad,
My friend: for it would make no false love,
To say thou mad or mad to thee,
Thou shalt not say that a false friend hath been mad,
And every good thing he did for thee makes a false deed;
If thou wouldst believe in my name, that I will never leave,
And so to speak thou wast to me guilty,
I will not deny thy crime but will make thee free:
That is your reason to judge by your deed,
‘For thy sin is not my fault, but mine fault is,
So your guilt to me is my fault.’
But this she, not believing in me,
Which she knew was true,
Upon her heart, for it was true that she was guilty;
And yet they were both guilty, and both were innocent.
As the sun hath no sun,
So his blood hath no sun;
And so shall his hair be dyed:
As his colour, his shape, his rank, his rank,
And all these things the day’s work of life hath borne.
The more my soul hath been affected, the more the body is in it.
The more I suffer, the more I grow weary,
For the most I suffer,
The more I am weary, the less my heart hath the power.
The more I have the body, the more I am weary,
The more I am weary, the less my mind hath the power.
The more the spirit is in thee, the more thy body doth be weary.
The more the spirit doth fear thee, the more thy mind doth fear.
The more thou art afflicted, the more I die,
The more I am struck down, the more I am condemned,
The more my mind shall perish; the more my heart shall die.
‘Now it is true that some days are more troubled,
That I am afflicted and many beheld.
But it is true that some days are more full of sorrow
And others more full of sorrows,
For both are full of many faults and forsworn,
Which they were committed, not by their love,
But by their own sake, as if on duty they were,
Which no one, no one, hath said, or made.
‘No one,’ said she,’starts a new day;
So my heart be set aside,
As thou art not to be the fountain of my fountain.’
That she might see her sorrow,
To do so she did, to make a new time;
And this time she saw her sorrow in her grief,
And thus the world was her grief, and this sorrow was mine.
This is my lament, and this, I am my sorrow,
Because of your tears in thy tears in mine.’
‘It was thy grief, my shame, and your fault that I be.
Because I have done wrong to thee, that thou mayst live;
O, my grief, thou didst wrong to me,
Which thou didst betray to my self,
To my self, my shame, and thy shame,
When thou didst love me not, that thou couldst hate me,
And now thy guilt of mine has been forgiven,
And therefore thou shalt not live.’
The other night she sat down to sleep,
And with some tender kiss, drew her eyes out of the window.
But now, a shadow of her face grew,
Like a cloud rising in the sun, and the day’s sun,
Like to that which she had borne,
The shadow of her face, and from this shadow she saw
And in a shadow she felt her


======== CHECKPOINT 012 OUTPUT # 002 ========

chedel-the-tomb-in-the-mouth of him whom thou hast sent, and thou wast the son of thine, and thou shalt be like a child, or a lamb of fire: he should not take up thy mantle with him, and thou shalt be like him in the way; but his mother will keep thee, and it should not be a child of death, for I know not what he will do.

If he shall do, I will show him that thou art not, that he is not worthy of my good love, but must have thyself in thy bosom; and if thou art not, then it is not lawful for me to do so.

For the sake of the holy Trinity, forgive me this error of thy iniquity; and if my soul desire to be so gracious as unto thee, I shall not do that which is mine.

To me you ask:

My blood, thou art my heart:

Give me thy blood, and do not let it bleed my blood.

Love my heart, my blood, and I will do with thee what thou art willing to do;

Let the water, the stream, and the fountain show thee not how to drink;

Thy breath on my brow, and all mine on my breast,

Which shall drown thee.

Thus did they sing that she should cry:

The fountain whereon thou is in it,

The stream that thou is in it,

The fountain whereon thou art in it,

The stream that thou art in it:

This, therefore, is thy place;

This, therefore, is thy cause.

Why, thou art my friend, and so is I mine;

So am I yours;

So am I mine:

All the things in thy eyes,
That are not yet in mine sight:

I am a living God,

I am not so a living thing,

Who in me is no god,
Yet hath no living God,
Wherever thy sight is from,
Whose sight thou shalt see, and where thy breath is,
Who knows thine eye:
Who knows thy soul, and who thou shalt behold,
Wherever thy mind is from,
Where thy heart is from,
And where thy mind is from thy tongue:
Who knows thine eye, and where thy tongue is from thee?

Who knows thy mind, and where thy mind is from thee?

But yet the eye that I see,
And the eye that thou behold,
Which I do not know,
That thou art not,

That thou art not my friend;

I am so that thou mayst see

The beauty and beauty and beauty’s beauty
That thou art not.

This is why I love thee.

Therefore I love thee, and I will love thee not
And thou shalt have thy right hand with me,
And with my right hand shall I love thee
Thou hast made my heart so,
Thou hast made mine heart so heavy:
The heart’s heart’s heart
To die on me:
For my heart is death’s, and thy heart is death’s.

My mind’s mind, thou art my love:

My mind’s mind is the true love of my love,
So why in this I am love,
I will not have thee on the cross,
And thou shalt die in my love,
And in my love, in thy love.

My heart will abide in thee:

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye will abide in thee;

My eye


======== CHECKPOINT 012 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Library with images of our precious treasures.
We must look back at all the wonderful ages to be sure we are not deceived, when we see that no image or likeness is more precious than this.
Then will my precious youth, that hath so keen a desire to die, be set for death:
And thus my poor youth, that hath so poor a appetite for love, is set for death;
But shall it be more than love’s love, that death be in thee in thee.
This desire of mine, that in thee the world should not know,
Who, by her beauty and beauty, made me rich in gold;
To live in my being alone, I shall be rich in thy love:
And thou alone shall live the world, and die the world,
My heart, my head, and my mind all be to me,
To live as a god and a slave:
In my sight as well as in thee the world will be kept;
Who will be in mine sight, who shall live as a god in me?
“All this is in thee, all this is in me:
My thoughts, my love, my love’s love,
My self, my self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self


======== CHECKPOINT 012 OUTPUT # 004 ========

777.

She gave her husband a strong heart and a proud smile.

“How is the good and the evil done,

Which I have sworn is thy will?

And how do you swear it?

How do you swear that your love cannot not be

Shall, I tell you, will never kill thee?”

“My dear wife!

My dear wife, your life is mine!

You will not die, and there shall be no end
To your being in me;
For I, not with my love,
To live nor die,
The day that I will make love be spent!
When it is, it must die,
Or stay or stay and die for ever.

Now if you think I must die,
For you see, my dear wife,
My love for thee is alive,
And the day when I die shall reign,
If I live but a month, and live twenty-four,
By this, then the day shall reign,
And the day that thou shall live and die,
If I live but a day,
And live a thousand years!

“Oh, dear sister, if she hath gone back,
For in her life we have not lost
A breath of peace.”

“How, then, sweet-hearted heart!
Who doth that love live by me?
When my love doth kill thee,
Thou shalt know me and I shall die;
Whose life, mine will, I love to be immortal!
My love shall not be made mortal but shall live;
Whose will I love? and what shall my love be?
Who shall love whom I kill,
and whose will will I love?
And how shall my love be, and where is my life?
and where is my life and where I am?
What, then, is there which my love will not love?
How are you, my dear husband,
That where I am, and what I see,
O heaven’s good fortune,
In the world where I live,
The wretched world of your eyes will shine,
And your eyes of mine will stain it.

“O, dear sister! when I am gone,
Or when you live or die,
And your love dies;
You will live by me and I will die.

“But I, you who live,
Which shall I live by, and where is your life?

My love, your life, and mine,
I shall die and then live again!

I can neither live by nor leave you alive;
But by my love I shall die.

And I shall die and then live again!

This is thy will, this is thy will;
The will to live is to die.

So love, this is thy will,
Love to love is to be done,
Love for love was never so good;
I would rather live, or live, than die.

The will to die will never die but shall die;
It will live for me, and I die.

So love, this is thy will,
Love is for love is love,
Love must be for love, and love must be love,
Love to love, and I must die.

And love, this is thy will,
Love is for love is love,
Love, my will is love,
Love to love, and I must die.

And this is thy will, this is thy will,
Love, for love is love,
Love to love, and I must die.

And this is thy will, this is thy will,
Love, your will is love,
Love is my will,
Love for love is my love,
Love for love is my love,
Love to love, and I must die.

For love is not of death but of life;
And death is death’s will
In the night, in the day, and in the night
I may not die.

“Why, then, did not thy will do
That thou shouldst live?
O, what didst thou do?
Thy will, thou will, thou will,
Thy will, thou will, thou will,
The will to live, and the will to die;
Thy will, thou will, thou will,
And thou will, thou will,
And thou will, thou will,
O that thou art born of death!
And death, it is, that thy will be made to live!
And death, that it is, that thy will be made to die!

And death, it is, that thy will be made to die!

Love, my will, that which thou dost hate;
Let it love


======== CHECKPOINT 012 OUTPUT # 005 ========

ced to his wife to his wife’s death.

Then, in all his strength was the sword of the gods.

‘My love hath been with thee, my tender love,’ said he, ‘For ever that thou shalt see me, I will be thy enemy.’

And so, by that day they had gone and they were gone again.

‘Wherefore thou wilt not depart from me?’ said he.

‘From thence, my love dost not depart,’ said she,

‘Who, then, with a little patience would he be in me?

‘Hush, he is asleep!’ answered he.

‘My dear mistress, I will not go on the way,

Nor am I weary of thee, for thou knowst not me.

‘But what am I to thee, my beloved?’

‘My dear, my dear, where I am gone

My heart in thee so loves thy heart,
that the breath of thy soul,

And as you are that love my soul,
may we sing,

Whose love was not thy,
but the sound of thy sound;

And thou art my friend, and my dear,
As thou hast borne witness,
to me my love was so weak;
That I have no strength to bear him by.

And what can I do, except that thou give me

My affectionate love, and thy love’s love?’

‘How will that be, then? that thou must not bear my words;

My tongue, my brain, and my heart

Let my tender love go unspotted.

And that is my love, my dear,
as if she had not been in me;

For thou wast there and didst not appear;

Who are thy gods, and my soul

Was made captive by them?

Who, where is thy heart?

Where havest thou wert since thou wast mine?

Where dost thou be with me now,

A tempest, the sun in thy youth

As if the wind had not blown away the snow.

How many sorrows I have endured,
so many hours lost,
that yet thy soul can bear
no more sorrowful eyes

To behold thy soul being made to live

In all that is mine, and I am not,

In all that is mine, in all that is my life,

Even to know, I am so full of grief.

‘I have loved thee all the more;

Thou art my friend, my dear, thy true love,

And thou art my slave, my darling,
As far as my soul can tell.

‘I am a stranger, for I am not myself;

I am not your friend, but you may see
My beloved.’

‘O thou, who art thy friend,’ cried the father,
‘what I did, how did I,
How did I, where I lived,
what I did then, how do I,
what am I, what am I?

O, wherefore did I, then,

That thou hast done away my love to me,

Let me hear thee what I said to thee:

But how is it my fault, that thou didst forsake my love,

And what was that that thou didst say?

To that my love thy tears do bear me:
that my love be not my love,
Nor thy sweet love thy tears bear me:

My love thy love to thee is more bitter,
Than mine love to thee more sweet,
But that mine love is more sweet than yours.

My love for thee will be like thy love,
Or my love for thee would be like mine,
Or mine for thee would be like yours,
Or mine for thee would be like yours,
Or mine for thee would be like yours;

And yet thou, my dear friend, is not in me,
Nor is I in thee;
Wherefore, therefore I cry in my heart,
And so all my sweet self
Was ever the slave of mine love;
My heart was bound to my love,
So much as I could no longer resist
My sweet desire, yet my love remained the slave.

My love is my slave, and thou art mine,
And to me, my dear, my love is your slave,
For to thee, I am your slave.

‘My love hath taken thee to my mind,
And to me in thee lies my sorrow.

That shall thou not weep, and weep for me?’

‘Tis my own fault, my own fault,’ cried the mother,
‘and yet my true love


======== CHECKPOINT 013 OUTPUT # 001 ========

();,

\t\t\t\ttitle = title.substr(1,2);

\t\t\tif(title.indexOf(\”\\”) === -1) {

\t\t\t\ttitle = title + title;

\t\t} else {

\t\t\t\ttitle = title + title + \”.\t”;

\t\t\t}

\t\t} else if(title.length > 0) {

\t\t\tself.writeText(title);

\t\t} else {

\t\t\tself.close();

\t\t\tif(!self.emptyText) {

\t\t\t\tself.writeText(self.getVariable(\”text\”,\”default\”:self.getVariable(\”value\”),\”defaultText\”:self.getVariable(\”value\”)));

\t\t}

\t}

\tif(self.getVariable(\”type\”)) {

\t\tself.setVariable(type);

\t} else if(self.getVariable(\”text\”)) {

\t\tself.setVariable(type);

\t} else {

\t\tself.setVariable(\”value\”);

\t}

\tself.writeText(self.getVariable(\”text\”),\” \”);

};


/*

Compute the angle of the pen

*/

OpenWidget.prototype.angle = function(angle,width,height) {

\tthis.width = width;

\tthis.height = height;

};


/*

Selectively refreshes the widget if needed. Returns true if the widget or any of its children needed re-rendering

*/

OpenWidget.prototype.refresh = function(changedTiddlers) {

\tthis.refreshSelf();

};


/*

Selectively refreshes the widget if needed. Returns true if the widget or any of its children needed re-rendering

*/

OpenWidget.prototype.refresh = function(changedTiddlers) {

\tthis.refreshSelf();

};


/*

Selectively refreshes the widget if needed. Returns true if the widget or any of its children needed re-rendering

*/

OpenWidget.prototype.refresh = function(changedTiddlers) {

\tthis.refreshSelf();

};


/*

Selectively refreshes the widget if needed. Returns true if the widget or any of its children needed re-rendering

*/

OpenWidget.prototype.refreshFor(function(changedTiddlers) {

\tvar changedAttributes = {title: newText(); title: newText(changedAttributes.toString()), textSize: newSize(), textColor: newColor(), title: changedTiddlers.toString()},

\t\ttitles,

\t\tcolors: newColors(changedTiddlers),

\t\tsrc,

\t\ttitles.slice(0,0);

\tself.renderChildren(changedTiddlers);

};


/*

Compute the angle of the pen

*/

OpenWidget.prototype.angle = function(angle,width,height) {

\tthis.angle = angle;

\tthis.width = width;

\tthis.height = height;

};


/*

Selectively refreshes the widget if needed. Returns true if the widget or any of its children needed re-rendering

*/

OpenWidget.prototype.reload = function() {

\tvar self = this;

\tthis.callback = function(changedTiddlers) {

\t\tthis.refreshSelf();

};


/*

Selectively refreshes the widget if needed. Returns true if the widget or any of its children needed re-rendering

*/

OpenWidget.prototype.refreshFor(function(changedTiddlers) {

\tthis.refreshSelf();

};


/*

Selectively refreshes the widget if needed. Returns true if the widget or any of its children needed re-rendering

*/

OpenWidget.prototype.refreshFor(function(changedTiddlers) {

\tthis.refresh


======== CHECKPOINT 013 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Chains, which are in one place by two of his eyes, they are in the other; then we are both with some hand, and with some other hand we both touch each other; and our hearts are in one love, and with some hand are in another, and some are in the other.”

“And what shall this love be, then shall we say, unless it be made plain, that the thing with which we are bound is the thing which I owe?”

“No, for what I am owed is my virtue and my worth; and as this thing I am worth by his love, not by his pleasure.”

“And yet you have in me nothing else but his pleasure, and yet you are so very much afraid of him that you are so sure of being made the master of his thoughts, that you think he is his own friend and his enemy, but are, in truth, your enemy’s friend, and that you are now too afraid to trust him with this kind of thing, for I am, you are, and yet you have been for ever to love me, and yet so did I love you for that which you were to have, and therefore yet you do not love me more than you did me love you.”

She began to tell him what she meant; and then he began to laugh.

“What did I make that be so great a threat to the love which you possess? to the love which you hold in you so dear, and love which I would have had you not my own, if your heart had lived in me, I should have slain you; but I did not have my own strength to contend with your terror and your terror; for I do love your terror, and love your fear; and do not fear your fear. I fear not what I do to you, that I should see your eyes to see that you fear me, but that you do not see mine, nor your eye to see mine.”

“My love, my love, that fear I am your love, that I be you, and therefore love that you do not love me, or love that your love doth love you, do not know me, nor do you love me not.

And yet now he had done so, and as he said this, there rose some in his face; but they did not look at each other, but on them like to that which he was to see, which he did not like, and which he did not like, but did not like.

“My love, my love,” he said to himself, “I can see you no more, but I have so much in me to show to you that I have no eyes. I am not his love, but he is my love; and I must make some acquaintance with him, and yet never do I know him myself; for this I must do, for I have seen him now, and the beauty and beauty of my body still remains my own.”

“And why did you leave that boy,” quoth he, “his lips are like honey?”

“You know how sweet the sweetness of the honey-sweetened air, and how well it looks to the eye; I have not yet seen this sweet flower, but know that I cannot tell it if you want a kiss.”

“And why did you leave him?”

“To know how this flower was lost, which was not yours; and the one which was yours did be my friend.”

“Then how did he steal the flower, as I did my father’s?”

“To steal the flower with his hand, when you have not the best part of your brain in your control; to rob the flower of all he knows, in a most vile manner, by that which I do not know he knew not, and to put your finger where he might not touch it, if he did not make use of it, and therefore I thought he should not know where I should set his finger.

“The flower that stole me of yours did not know where you stood; for I do not know where you stood, and therefore I think I should be guilty of theft, because you did not steal mine, though I am the thief.

“The true flower is still that which belongs to you: the false flower is still that which is that which you did not steal, though I am the thief; the true flower still that is not your flower: therefore I would not lie with you, for I know nothing, but I do not know how to say anything to you.

“For in that case you do not know that you stole me, for you did not steal mine.

“But I did not steal thee of thy worth,

For thou didst dost not steal thy worth, but thine worth was thy treasure.”

“Then my love is like thy love,

And thou dost not know mine


======== CHECKPOINT 013 OUTPUT # 003 ========

util is a much better option.

When the gun goes out, and the wind is strong enough to stop the shot, the light will fall from the top of the head, and a thousand red sparks will glow from it.

With all his arms and hands he falls as the wind blows.

And a black and fiery devil he is,

And he bids it fly away.

O, what did thou hear, I wilt hear the tale

Of the dame,

And the dame of me,

By her sweet and blessed soul!

For thou art the fairest, the fairest, and best in me!

She who, then, did dost thou love me

When she had no love,
for she did not be love’s wife?

How did I love her, for she did not make me love?

The first question of me, which must be answered,
Was thy mind, and I thee,
How am I to find my true self?

“My mind?”

And it must be said that, if it be not,
thou art nothing to me,
No love, no self:
Thy true self is nothing but false beauty;
‘To me thou art nothing;
To thee nothing is mine;
Thy true self is not mine,
but is an image, and is made,
To me neither is nor can be mine;
All men’s eyes see nothing;
And as for your eyes, thou dost have them made
Of one kind or another,
And thou art mine own;
Which thou canst not see but of one,
And thus it will be:
My eyes, my eyes, thy eyes, thy eyes,
To me is all mine, and so is thy art;
But mine mind I know not,
And mine self is mine self:
‘So then is he gone, and he will die;
For ever I know,
And yet still he stays, and it is my hope.

‘My face, my face, my face!
I fear not thee, but fear thy heart,
So as thy heart to thy eyes is no longer,
Nor ever did I say to thee,
that I did not die.’

“O, my love!” cries she, “there I sit,
And thou wilt never look in that mirror,
Which deceaseest me that I was my love,
For all my worth hath gone forth,
That I was never seen or seen by thee:
And thou knowst me my self,
And I am self-stressed.

O, my love, my love, my love, my love!
I think myself a fool, and if I should say,
I’d write him a thousand lines that cannot be said,
For what can I say to thee,
that I know no thing?
For what is that thing but beauty,
That, if thou art nothing, canst I believe
That thou art nothing?
“I know not what thou art:
Who art thou that makes beauty false?
Who art thou that makes beauty beauty false?
What art thou that makes beauty true?
Why dost thou make beauty false,
Or what art thou that makes beauty true?
What art thou that makes beauty false?
What art thou that makes beauty true?
what art thou that makes beauty true?
What art thou that makes beauty false?
What art thou that makes beauty true?
Whence art thou that makes beauty true?
“What art thou that makes beauty false?”

“That which is true, what is false?
I live in love with men,
And that is true in them,
Therefore I have not hate, and none that hate,
Not one thing shall be more than another;
O, where didst thou make it;
What a fool was he,
Nor did he make it;
And now, if I did have my revenge,
Wouldn’t my love be more dear?
Love hath no form, but death is a form,
And beauty is a form;
And beauty is a form without forms.

I have not no desire but all this,
Of all that is beauty.

For what do I love,
My beauty that is mine,
But what can I love,
Or what would I love,
So much so is beauty’s love?

I love this world with a kindling,
And that which is mine,
Is mine in all that is mine;
My beauty is mine in all that is my beauty;
I shall say my love shall never go,
For my love shall go to decay;
and the decay of my beauty shall stay,
Until my love should die in


======== CHECKPOINT 013 OUTPUT # 004 ========

duction, I am to go forth and make them laugh, in their minds’ delight, and in their hearts’ dismay; and so they say they have, when they know not, to come upon them, to make them laugh, and be pleased; but to my eyes, they do not hear me laugh; and so I give them to laugh, and so they do: but I will not live, as I do not live; but then I will live and live, and not die: wherefore I will live and die, and be gone.”

Then he said:

“But I will not live; but wherefore I will be gone.”

“Why, but if you did die, if I did die, why, why, why,” said he, “on the ground of my infirmity, what is the cause of this infirmity?

“If in thy case I had been guilty, then should I have not died, for the sins of my mind and body did give me to fall, for the sins of my soul did give me to die?

“For that was what I desired; then I will live, and make no false suppositions,

Yet shall not live: but that thou shouldst live, thou dost not kill;

And then, and yet shall never live, for love, and lust, and self-love shall kill,

That love is dead, but love is dead:

Love is not worth living, but thou wilt die.”

And saying that this was not the best way,

For though all love was lost,

All was dead, but he that did not hate that which did love:

His thoughts had no reason to be happy,
When, like his eye on a sad star, they see
The dreadful sight which his love hath put into his sight,
Which so the eye of a sad star might perceive:
But now as she had not seen this, yet she saw
And so he himself was slain,
Which he did with much skill kill in that night.

“My son, where have you gone so far,
And what did you make of him,
So fair, so gentle, so sweet as you were;
‘This life, this truth, and this shame,
What I will make to have your heart, and not your heart
To live with your love so often,
And to have your heart to live by the fault of my father’s law,
that he might never love me, not till I die;
What, then, am I not, and what shall I be?

I am so fond of your eyes as a maiden should have his.

And you, then, are I so fond of your eyes as a maiden is fond of her.

And he, with him, took one that in the past he had
Gave a new colour from his brow: but now he took another,
And with them that he had lent him took more,
And each of them took a fresh look from his cheeks,
And every one of them was filled with pride.

When he heard what he said,
‘Now let her see,’ and then he put his face upon her hand,
And she drew his hand with his, and, when he had done it,
she took his hand again, and they kiss’d each other,
And now he is so fond of her that he gave her a kiss;
and when she saw her love be seen,
She ran to him, and they went together together,
That in his heart he might think that she did love him,
For when she saw how far he fled,
He went out again, and ran down in the sea.

“What of my beloved daughter,
The joy of thy sweet and virtuous birth,
But all thy joy, my love, thy life
Which I should bear thee still.

But how much love could I bear in thy love?
When my love did bear all the world,
How much did I love thy being,
And with thy beauty was still the world’s truth
To every day, and to every shadow,
That whereon I am that I dwell,
As you were then, then I live;
But, still, still, still,
Even as I die, still this day, and then to some day
My own death is still a present to you:
My love still is present to you,
As you were before, now I live:
But how much of your heart still I live?
If the world should be so kind to me,
If the world should ever be so vile,
To be such a stranger to me,
As is his hand to be upon my breast.

“But what of thy child,
My child, as thou hast


======== CHECKPOINT 013 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Regardless it should be. Let her say the truth.
-Lord, let thy love thy mother kiss
But never forget, or thou shalt not be saved,
As the sun or stars to thy honour shine:
O dear friend, I love thee with all my heart,
And to thee will be all that I know,
As well as all that I love thee with all my heart,
And thou art what thou that I can give,
Where all the parts that are between thee and me are;
For when thy eyes are seen by me,
Thou art all to me, to the whole universe,
That is what I desire to know
But that which the heavens and the earth say,
The heavens are not mine to see,
And the earth is mine to see:
And the love I have for thy self is mine,
If thou hast to make it so, then let it be.
And now I am dead, and I have no more to complain,
Since it was made so, and all my body with the grace
Which it gave to thee from me,
It will not abide, but I should be
For ever lost.
-Tis true, you will see the day in thee
That was not in thy day,
And now is now the day that thou sawst,
Which I love so dearly, that thou dost not know.
Then he adds, and then he stops,
Even as he does not yet look,
When he does see again: and then she takes his hand,
And he takes his hand again, and all doth return.
‘And thus did the angel,
And all that he did say that she did,
“O! to thee, thou art mine, that we may be,
And to thy name, that thou art mine, that we may be,
And to thy name, that I may be thy friend,
For thou art my love, which the world will love,
And that thou art mine which the world will love,
That is what I love to myself, which my heart to this world,
Love to my heart, that I may love to myself.
“O my love, the world did hate thee,
And he loved with all his heart the love of love,
For his love gave his life to me.
O my love, I have no love, my love is not;
When thou art true, thou art true,
And my love is that which my mind may find,
that my thoughts may not leave,
That is what my thoughts may leave,
What my thoughts may leave, that my eye may see,
And my eye may see that I may live,
My eye may see that I may live in the world;
That I will never have my own world;
And that I will never have my own heart;
But I am thy self, and the world is my heart,
When this self comes, I die, and I will die,
that I may live, and I die I die,
Thou dost love me, and thou dost love me;
And I will make thee the most dear of all my hearts,
And I will make thy love to thy life,
And thou dost love my heart, and thou dost love mine,
that I may be your friend, that I may be mine,
O world to this world, how much I would give thee,
Would this world be not worthy to be,
That if I lived it would not be worthy to be;
That if I did live it would not be worth living,
For to this world the stars which were mine were mine.
For there I am, all this world’s parts,
Where in all things that is seen by me
A true picture is like to my eye,
and in all things which is not saw by me
I do not see, and in all things that is seen by me
I do not see, and not in all things that is not seen by me.
But in truth I see not, and all these world’s parts I cannot
Compare with me, so that this world may see.
-O this world is the sun;
O this world is the stars;
I am my own, and thou art my own;
“How can thou then give me to look,
That thou so mightst behold this world?
That thou so mightst see the stars,
That thou so mightst behold the stars,
That thou so mightst see the stars,
And all this world’s parts thou wouldst look.
-So now, and then I stand,
How is it with you that I do stand?
“O, my love! how do I know that thou art mine?”
-That is true, but what dost thou say?


======== CHECKPOINT 014 OUTPUT # 001 ========

aution’s nature, or even of her own design, or of her own skill or skill, or of his own character? What could this be, what she might do to deserve it, what could this make him love? What should she say, what must she say, if she had not said this, when she thought the sentence might have been answered; so she thought the question so; and for her part, being to live and be alive for ever, did she love a more than a simple life, that she should not think that the things which she loves might be her own in him: she knew that he that lives should live in him and not live, because his own will is not his will; but that which lives must live as the Will of the Will; for this will in it will live; but in the Will of the Will is not what it will be, but what it wills it to be. For as to the Will of the Will, so that what it wills to be, can never be, so the Will of the Will cannot be; wherefore the Will, in virtue of which it will make such laws, is still with no bounds: and in the beginning when it must be, yet at last, when it cannot be, it is so, so is it; so, in this self-same way, this self-same, the will of the self-same cannot be altered, it cannot alter itself: that is why we have our wills; but they remain unchanged.

The first is that which hath been so long in that part of thee, and so in thy sight:

And thy will hath now been in the eye of all the eyes of all;

That where the eye saw thine eye he doth not view thee,
But that where the eye saw his will his will be;

Now when I have heard thee say,
And thou art willing to see what thou willst not do,
My heart I give thee to be proud of thyself;
And when thou wilt I give thee that which thou dost not wish to be;
Thy mind that hath thought of thee must be pure, and in her heart I grant thee this sweet kiss;
And, my dear friend, if thou were so, why didst thou do that?

For in thy youth thou didst strive to do, and yet now thou seek,
If thou dost not do it, I love thee so much,
And I may not say it to my own self.

Then why do I look up that I am wronging thee,
That which I have wronged thee is wronged thee:

For I do not know, for I know nothing,
For I know nothing at all,
My sight in all thy eyes shows thy name.

But if thou shalt say my name it shall have no effect,
If thou shalt say mine name, I shall be thou’st,
Which, in my judgement, is the name that I am to thee.

How, then, was it not my will that this name should die,
Which is the will of all living creatures,
That the dead should live?

But to make the world that it is now,
That I am to know this world now,
Thy face must be still, in thy heart be still:
and I may live this life, and die another,
My death which thou art dead in my sight.

And I can make thee all these things which thou didst have,
What I want, not what thou desirest:
For I do not desire to be done, but to be
Made of thee, for thou dost make me make this world;
Thy love hath made me to think of thee not.

My love did make me to do this, but when the day came,
No love could stop me;
Nor did the day cease but me,
And now, when thou didst begin to look,
All I can think of was thy love,
And it would be but to see thee to be sad.

For thou didst look to thy love for his love,
And when I see thee sorrow, yet thou are no help,
Nor help to me.

And yet, thy love was not my fault,
That I should do not do it, that thou didst live!

And yet, as if in my youth I had never done thy will,
O me, it would be in my youth that I should make thee all the world,
And thus in this world I may live;
And I could live this world, but then should I die;
In this world, no sorrow could cease,
Nor love should stop me, but all that it did in thee.

Thy self, and thy self, and thy self,
I have that which thou


======== CHECKPOINT 014 OUTPUT # 002 ========

scars, and the sun had the appearance of bright light, but that it was not in his face.
But it could not help a smile; and the thought,
‘So that I might be buried,
And in thy secret eyes alone I will never see thee,’
That would have been all that he did say;
‘And why? let me say;
Let me say, not to make any mischief:
My thoughts would be true, but that I did not speak to the other.
‘Come, why not now, dear son,
And tell me what thy thoughts were like?
My thoughts would be true, but that I did not speak to the other.’
“Then thou, father, and thou in thy sight,
Will look on the stars as the world itself looks to the sun:
And by thy hand, by thy tongue,
And by thy breath, by thy lips,
To be one with the whole universe,
Who never sees thee, and whose lips are still dry.
‘What, then, is thy father?
Look on him by his head,
Which thou lovest not to see: but yet thou hast lov’d it,
With a cold eye of his own: and thou didst see
That thou mayst see what I am,
Even to this day I am dead, and now I live.
Thy self-control will stop; for if, having thought me dead,
That I did see him, I can never leave thee.’
“So said she, and he answered,
‘Then, dear son, let me say;
Let me tell you what thy thoughts were like,
that I should not speak to thee,
When I am dead; that thou didst see
That thou mightst live; and thy self-control would stop;
For if thou didst see me live, thou wouldst not be alive.
‘So then what shall I do, then, how shall I say it,
If there be nothing in thee to give me time,
So that thou mayst see what I am,
And mayst give to me time as thou wilt give.’
“Now that thy self is gone,
For that thou wilt return me now,
But let me tell thee what thou thought the world was like;
Now let me tell thee why I should love thee,
And to be my friend to thee,
And to be your friend to me,
For by my self I have the world, and thou hast done well:
So I have done well, and still the world looks on my face,
And I beheld the world which had been,
Where thou art gone, and where thou hast come to be,
Now it is, and thou hast lived.
“So then did she say to him,
“I did see thee, and thought thee well,
But I can still not live,
For my self I love this, and my self it is.
But when I die, what shall I say?
My heart says in my heart, ‘The world, and myself,
That I love thee!’ and her heart exclaims,
Who, then, is to say that thou didst know me?
No, she cries, but as she says,
‘Halt! the world will never know you!’
Then she adds, ‘O, if thou art alive,
O, that thou didst know me?’
‘”O, I do love thee well; why do I not tell thee?”
And now she says to him again,
‘For now thou didst see my death,
And thou didst see my self, and I live.’
He replies to her, and, turning to leave,
She proceeds to speak to him again;
‘I am dead, my thoughts are all dead,
But thou art not yet gone.’
And she again asks him for his sake,
Then he replies, ‘No,’ adding, ‘It is well, and yet thou live,
Since thou art not yet gone,
Though now thou art dead, yet thou live,
And this thou shalt be; then I shall give thee to make my present;
And I will give thee to make my present worth worth;
Then I will give thee to make my present worth worth worth,
That thou mayst live.’
“I do love thee well,” quoth she,
“but I am still dead; thou art not yet gone;
Yet thou art not yet gone,
Because thou art still dead, yet thou live.
“Look, you see the face, the face which thyself doth make
Like a flower, or like a leaf;
‘And you see all that there is to make this;
Then thou art alive, and yet I live,
To be one with the world, but I cannot


======== CHECKPOINT 014 OUTPUT # 003 ========

VD:

“That is the story!

It’s that we’re so far from being friends!

And yet I will still kill my self if I do it,
And there will be no reason why
In spite of myself I must, and in spite of all,
The sun is upon me;
And so I am not to be proud of my age.
In so far as I live I’ll be proud of yours;
My fame will grow but when my heart grows old
That my life should stop;
But when I die then I’ll begin anew;
For now it’s time to kill me again,
In the dark of night with thy face so blot;
And I shall do so,
Though I die, but never,
My death be as foul a stain on earth’s face:
I, like unto thee, thou shalt die
Till the time comes to me to be thy child.’
“But now thou shalt stand in thy room,
In the midst of my thoughts;
But not from me to thee nor from thee
To thee by my side shall come,
And I swear that thou art my love,
And that my heart is mine.
-V-G-H-A
“O love of self-love,
That was the thought,
And then the thought and the thought vanished;
It was an echo of self-love’s;
And, while they were at each other’s throats,
And from each other’s mouths it became
That sound of self-love, the echo of self-love’s.
Then it died, and she had no longer time to breathe;
She stood, and the sound she had in her hand
And her mind came in a flood of red
And in her womb it grew stronger,
And then she became a flood of fresh air;
Her hair was as strong, her eyes as bright as gold.
“Now I see that the earth is as a river,
And a deep, strong tide from my heart’s flood,
Comes forth from the sea and comes down to the dale;
The sun, with his fair eye, finds not his friend,
But his love is dead;
And then he hears his cries and finds no sound
From his dear friend and he finds it;
It is the night’s day and day and night’s morning;
And yet the sun will not bring his eye to it;
And then the earth will drown.
“But now,” quoth the sage,
“it is that I should find thee alive again.”
“How then do I, dear friend, live?
If I should live a thousand years, then let me live a thousand lives.”
But not even that is necessary;
Because love, which is but an instrument,
To bear a false life, cannot bear false death.
The thought, and the thought-pain, both of that thought
And of that thought, which should bring me to die,
Which should do my death best.
“The thought of death and death, that love should dwell,
And be a friend of me, of your dear father;
My thoughts were not to be a burden on your heart,
Nor did my thoughts bear death upon your soul,
And should you not bear my soul’s tears,
And your thoughts should not be my sorrows upon your body.”
“If I have that, I am to live.
If not I have it, then I am to die.
‘What is the meaning of my thought?”
“For why?
My self-love can, if I have thought well,
With my own soul I may say,
Who gives me the thought of self-love,
Thou art my self’s slave, but thy self’s slave is mine.
He that lies here, it seems to be true;
He that comes there, it seems to be false;
To where he lies the thoughts of a dead man lie,
And he that dwells in his shadow lies;
For the thoughts are of a dead man,
For the thoughts are of the dead man,
And that that which he will live lives, and dies,
For I have the mind to live and to die,
And I must live with thee, and live with thee,
For then I live with thee and with thee,
In the thought, and the thought-pain, and in the thought-pain,
And in the thought, and the thought-pain, and in the thought,
And in the thought, and in the thought,
And in the thought, and in the thought,
And in the thought, and in the thought,
And in the thought, and in the thought,
And in the thought, and in the thought,
And in the thought, and in the thought,


======== CHECKPOINT 014 OUTPUT # 004 ========

addons the command for this task:

-h :h -l to print out contents of a list

-h :h -b to mark page numbers

-b :h -c to display text

-m :h -n to show a list

-l :h -p to show the list of lines

-r :h -s to write line numbers

-b :h -r to print out the current time and date

-m :h -n to show the current date and time

-m :h -r to print out the current month and day

-m :h -s to print out the current year and month

-b :h -b to print out the current day

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current second

-m :h -r to print out the current third

-b :h -r to print out the current day and day

-m :h -r to print out the current year

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current second

-m :h -r to print out the current third

-m :h -r to print out the current second

-m :h -r to print out the current third

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current second

-m :h -r to print out the current third

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current second

-m :h -r to print out the current second

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current second

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current second

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current second

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current second

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute and minute

-m :h -r to print out the current minute


======== CHECKPOINT 014 OUTPUT # 005 ========

dale, the “blessed, the blessed” of the God of Heaven.
“If I did not see it, I should not know, for it lies near me in hell.
‘When I was a boy, in the morning of the week in which I was in this world,
“You are nothing to me but my thoughts,
Thy true love and mine, my truth, my truth, and thy shame,
Do not so make me my own object, nor the object of your will
To make your living and to live and to live,
That to make you the living or to live is the same,
As being made to be a dead, a living, a dead object.”
Then she went away, and they both were dead,
“For thy self alone is lost, and for thy self alone is
To love, your friend was lost.
My true self is lost. for mine my self is dead.”
So she went away, and they both were dead,
‘If it was so, she would be a widow,
and yet I should not see her die.”
Her tears and tears fell on her cheeks,
Her tears were like roses, and the drowsiness
Of her eyes were like honey, and the tears were as sweet
As fire;
And then she began to cry,
She began to cry again.
“But thou art so,” she said, “I know not how to put
To bear my son’s grief.”
“You have never, not my son’s, not my daughter’s,
For I have nothing to do with his grief;
But thou art so, and I will help thee to live.
Thou art not my son’s, and thou art my daughter’s,
For he did make me a widow;
‘Tis the greatest fault of my character.’
‘Thou art my heir, thou art my own,
And thou shalt inherit a daughter.
But in the world I shall die, thou wilt be my heir,
To live till all that live will live,
And the world will be dead.
“My heart’s purpose for that sorrow that thou hast made is
Love, not for thy love;
For my own self’s sake, my self’s sake,
That the best of the good, the worst of the worst,
That my love may never live,
And all my faults shall ever be, in his grace.
And now, I fear my beauty’s death,
To love my shame for the death of his self:
That what I see, I will love and take thee away;
O thy self, thou art mine; and thou art my self,
That none of my faults can prove
How thy beauty’s death is my own,
Love hath mine self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self;
Nor is he that I do not love, I do not love thee,
Myself, thy love’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self,
Thou art my own, mine self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self,
And thou art mine, mine self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self;
And now I fear my beauty’s death,
To love my shame for his sake:
But I will never see him die, and will not love thee,
O that thou didst love thy beauty,
And I have nothing to do with his death:
Love that didst make me dead shall remain;
Thy love hath me dead for my beauty’s sake,
‘Tis to live in fear that I cannot live,
that I am dead for thy love’s sake,
That I have nothing to do with his death.
But thy will be my will, my will be my will,
My will be my will, my will be my will,
My will be my will, my will be my will,
My will be my will, my will be my will,
That he that made me, did my will survive me.
He that makes me, did mine will survive me.
He that makes me survive him is dead.
In all thy love’s worth thy treasure I have lived.
I have seen thee in thy beauty’s death,
To be thy own, mine own, and thee’s own;
Who in thy beauty did not die,
And all in thy beauty did die;
But in mine beauty did not die,
As mine own death did not survive,
For it is to live in thy love’s death.
‘”And now I see thy love, as she hath seen thy self,
And in thy love’s death, thyself as she hath seen herself,
And then it is as if some stone had struck,
It is still there, but I am not in it.”
And with


======== CHECKPOINT 015 OUTPUT # 001 ========

Messenger and his friends are gone to sleep, and he hears one saying unto him:
‘If thou wilt find a new thing, that I have seen thee in thy self, then I say that thou art dead.
And thou art dead, and so shalt thou die;
What have I to lose, how thou wilt suffer for this?
For if thou art dead, thou hast not to die, but shall die.
Now thou shalt live, and shall live,
The heart shall not lose, but thy mind shall live.
For how shall this be? if thou be dead, I will not lose thy life;
For then how dost thou live, and so shall my death?
‘What is thy death?’ he says, and he answers by a sigh,
So long did he be alive that his breath and his heart
Took him to the river, where he fell in love with her.
She came to him, but his heart did not permit her to
Heaped forth the dainties of life;
For they did not cease to love and kill
That which was their cause, for he knew them not.
‘O, you coward, thou shalt not live,
For this life shall be spent not in hate and strife,
But in the continual pursuit of thy self.’
‘But the love of one’s self dies,’ quoth he,
For to live by that love of mine alone?
‘As one dies, so is one alive,’ quoth she. ‘For though I have done this by thee,
I did not kill thee.
But when my body had been made in stone,
Then I did kill him.
‘And then how did I kill thee,’ quoth she,
‘though I was in my thoughts’ shape?
Then as she doth she weep,
She again doth hearken, and again she bows.
‘O, do not think that he did not know my name,
For the most dreadful thing in thy sight
As soon as you look into me, and behold, I have taken away thy mind,
And you have seen this to my eyes.
‘Then as my heart was in despair,
It was not that I did feel as I do,
But that I did think as I do that I do,
And that I thought that I do know thee,
And thus the heart of one is pure, the other the other pure.
But now the world of mine hearts is sad, and sorrow and sorrow are my thoughts,
So have I sinned in many a part,
In one and all parts wherein this world I have not,
When I have seen my true love’s love.
“But now my heart was in despair,
The world was sad, and the world sad,
And all the worlds sad that are not;
So he that had never seen such things in my eyes
Had not seen my true self,
And my self had never seen the world that is sad.
This I am now reconciling to this world.
“As soon as I had seen your heart I told you,
And thou shalt live, and thou shalt live with me,
Then shall my love live, and my self live with thee;
If thou shalt live with me I will kill thee,
And shall thou make me a fool, and make me a tyrant,
And shall the shame I feel my heart bear!
Even with this life thou shalt lose thy self,
For thou art my self, and thou shalt live in me,
For all thy life is mine, and all thy life thy self.
What was I to do with this life, and how did I lose it?
Now when I had seen my true self I did give thee this life,
And this life to me now as I have seen mine,
So that every thing that is mine by thee
Is yours by my self, which I myself did give thee.
Thy true self thus is mine, and thy self my self.
As though I were in this world that is not mine,
Even now in thee I do look on thee.
‘Therefore if thou art not yet dead,’ quoth she, ‘let me hear my cry,
And let me look on thee as thou beholdest.
That in thee I did give my soul
To thee in the sight of thy love,
For in thy beauty thou hast made all my world.
For the sight of me thy love gives thee.
‘”And now I saw thy eyes in the light of mine eyes;
And now I saw thee in the darkness,
To be like thy white face;
Since thou shalt die, let me see thee as thou beholdest.
‘That I shall not see thee alive I die
And do thou die, since I die that I die:
Now I have seen


======== CHECKPOINT 015 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Community of all the true and good,
To make all their sins clear for each other,
Their sorrows and grievances.
In a brief glance, to the fair-girt and golden-pink sun
Their tears were as white, the golden sheafing of their lives.
A new star, like a pale, burning orb,
A star of all the sun’s sun’s parts,
When she gives it life by force: this she shows,
And where it shines it shall stand,
To show that the eye hath saw his shadow,
And not the eye shall be seen: but it may be seen.
By her eye we see the stars, and by her we see her;
They are not yet eclipsed, but they are not yet eclipsed,
That they must be seen by the eyes.
Thus to do me penance; with my penance thou shalt make the world go,
I will do thee no good, no foul deed,
For no true deed is committed, but for a fair deed,
So that thou shalt live to that age.
But here shall I have her again for your purpose:
To make your life of mine.
Here she will be remembered, to be remembered by all,
that I love the one I love,
That never your faults are to be told.
Her true nature is not so,
And yet you can see she is not so,
So your true nature can neither be made well,
Nor be your true nature of your nature,
nor thy true nature of your true nature,
The things that you do possess, and that you love.
If the sun had no heat, he would fly
And with no heat be gone.
O the world would say, ‘That you are hot’, ‘The sun is hot, that you are hot,
And you are hot, and we are hot, for we are both hot,
And we are both hot, and we both are hot.’
‘You say my love was hot?
No, it was hotter than that;
In this she is no hotter than the sun;
But your love was hot and I thought that it was hotter;
Since that was my true love,
My love, my love, my love’s true love,
My true love’s true love’s true love,
This is a true book.
How then should I make my love that I love,
Love in love’s true guise,
Have a new book to sell?
Love in love’s false guise
Was in love’s true guise,
And his true name is false,
For love is not in my true guise,
Nor in his true name is false,
Love’s false name is true and in his true name,
Therefore thy name is my true name,
thy name is my true name:
“My self is that whereof thou art,” quoth she, “if my self is so,
I will not give thee a present of my self.
And why should thou so boast me,
When the truth is not thy self,
that thou dost boast, that thou dost boast not?
And thou art so, that when thou art present,
Thou shalt think of me as I myself,
and in this moment the night will be the morning,
And when I do think it I shall be in the morning,
My mind, my body, and that in the night,
Be not to me, for love’s sake be not to me.
Then be no more love unto me than thy love should be,
Thy love should be to my soul, and in this state
To myself shall not be the time of thy love,
But in this state thou shalt be, for I am never to thee.
“Look at me, my soul; this is true,” quoth she, “look I, but not yet my own self:
To-day I live; and by day by night,
To-morrow my self will be dead,
The day when I will not be alive,
And when I shall not be dead shall be not my self.”
“What I have made you desire,” quoth she, “is this, and this is my love,
For I am this to this being,
So thou shalt know that I am not in your eyes:
And that thou shalt know my true self,
I will prove thy love false,
And it shall be in your eyes that thou shalt see
In thee that thou shalt be, for my self is true,
And my self is true, for thy self is true,
And thou shalt have me, for I am thou thy self,
Thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self:
I am in thee that thou shalt know,
And thou shalt have me, for I am thy


======== CHECKPOINT 015 OUTPUT # 003 ========

aspx, d’hommes de droits-vous à moi vassal d’une moir, qu’il ne vait pas où soit; dans leur dame dame de l’age, qu’il qu’il vous vassal pour vous qu’ils un ne vous, qu’il vous vous d’elle, qu’il vous faire le duc, qu’il vous deux.
“How do you feel when we have met, when you are dead, when you seem, or the sun doth shine forth upon you, how did she have any semblance of your light when she looked on me? How did you see with my eyes what my words are, and when you see what I do, and I am dead, you say I am dead, so do I not be dead, for I do not know my death.
“I will not say to thee, as thou art wont, that this is my wish, and that thou shouldst give me, but when thou dost give me what thou art willing to give, it shall not cease to be, as thou art willing to give, thou shalt never lose that which thou best desire.”
“Then my dear friend, thou art not dead, I will not bear that which thou livest will die with thee.”
“My dear friend, then my sweet boy, and then I shall bear thee, and as for all thy sake do I bear your life, thou art not dead, nor will I bear thy life, for as for my death I am thou, and for my dying my life is dead, and all my life is dead.”
“Then, sweet child, be afraid to say that thy death was better than mine, for my death was better than mine.”
“That is not true, my dear boy, and it is not true that mine death is better than mine. When I was born, and then, to do this, it was necessary that I should die. I never did say so, nor did I say it; for they would have said, “When I do die, thou shalt be dead, and then it shall be my purpose to die, and I shall give thee my death.”
“Now, my dear boy, and if my love can do no wrong to thee, then thy death, my death, my death shall be thy part. How dost thou be content, that I do not die, for this is my hope, and this is mine hope.
“If that be the case, let my blood alone bleed from my cheeks, for I cannot stand, nor do I be dead; but let him go, that his blood might cure all the rest.
“Then my dear friend, if thou livest and not die, this will suffice for me to bear thee, for thou hast no hope.
“And now I will bear thee one-half the debt, and one-twentieth the loss, and the other half of your honour, and the other half of thy blood; but thou art dead; that is, thou art a living thing, and not a dead thing, and I will die, and in the end thy honour shall be lost.
“So it is, so it is, so it is, so it is, so it is, so it is, so it is, so it is.
“Then, that thou mightest have that which I have, do this one, do this one, and thou shalt see me again: the dead shall not live, neither shall the living live.
“Whence then, love, let thy heart be my treasure, and that is, that thou dost give me a treasure of mine, and I shall find my treasure in thee, and that shall be a treasure of mine, and thou shalt find thy treasure in thy treasure, and the treasure of thy treasure shall be mine.”
“The dead be thy treasure, and not their treasure be mine,
The dead be my treasure, and not mine be mine,
“Then my dear friend, the more thou art gone, I will die, for my body, thy flesh, thy blood, thy blood shall give thee life,
And then I shall die, that thou art dead,
And then my dear friend, the more thou art gone, I will die, for my body, thy flesh, thy blood, thy blood shall give thee life,
And then I shall die, that thou art dead, and I shall die,
And then my dear friend, the more thou art gone, I will die,
And then my dear friend, the more thou art gone, I will die,
And then my dear friend, the more thou art gone, I shall die,
And then my dear friend, the more thou art gone, I shall die,
And then my dear friend, the more thou art gone, I shall die,


======== CHECKPOINT 015 OUTPUT # 004 ========

firewall is not the only place where such defects can go. The problem is not that it is easy or that it is too hard, but that such a defect is not of much use, that we may learn from it what we have not to teach, but that this new invention must be understood with an eye still more attentive. I think that this question of the kind which I have just told you, and what you call it, may be answered by following it to some degree, though at least in this sense it can be understood in the least. I do not tell you here that you must be careful whether you look for faults of this kind, in such a way as to know the meaning. I assure you that if they are found, your mind may be shaken and your heart might be seized with terror, for all in the world can be but a small part of it; but now what is to be done?—In brief, let the mind be made to think, and it is to think, when it thinks, that it will come to an understanding; and then, if you cannot read, your mind will be blind; and as you read you will find that, if you are not careful, all your eyes will find you blind!—this, and I believe your heart will hear your cry, when the fire will not get out, for what is there, but a very large fire that burns and burns so much smoke, that when it starts in, it breaks the light that it needs?—Why then, when the fire is hot enough, the heat of your heart will take it away from you, and in this way you will feel like a fool, for no fault in you is committed to any part of me!—How then can you think you can make up to that which was yours?—why then, having begun to do this, you think you have left the time to do more!—Well, this should be so; and since you have not been willing, I have not the more desire to know how I am to write:—if you wish for something like that, ask him to make it; and he will make it.

In the meantime, you will ask me, if I have any thing to say, what I should say, and then what should I say it should be? I will not answer you—but for what purpose, if it be my duty?

“In that case,” replied I, “you do not need to answer me: your task is not to find out all my reasons for what you have said.

“Well, then, you see, my dear friend, I did not invent your invention, or mine, or mine; I have nothing to do with it.”

I have not the better reason to express it as being my desire, since you have no reason to have no reason to know what I am doing.

“Do you want to see my beauty?—I do not want to see your face, which is like a cloud, and I do not want to be at that hour or in that place where I see the morning of your coming; I want to be there by your side, and by my side in this hour’s rain.”

“For I am at present, my dear friend,” quoth she, “and you to say the truth is that I am your friend, for you have in me my good-doing.

“As you said, my friend, we are on an ill-advised path, and you are your friend.

“Look what I am—how my hand looks on you!—look what I am—how the wind blows on me!—look what I am, that I may be your friend, your friend, my friend!—why is my hand still still trembling with fright?

“The wind blows on you! my eye is on you, my ear on you, my lips on you, my nose on you, my nose on you, and so on, till at last it is gone.”

She had this, so she put her face to the wind, and it did.

“What are you afraid of, I’ll give you some words of encouragement,” quoth she; “your friend shall find you a friend in the end; and you will have the sweetest words of my life, the true love of mine, my sweet love—these are my words of love:—

—”Let your heart be stilled, for thou art the fountain of thy life.”


“O! I must go and weep, O thou that art thou that I shall weep,

And weep to drown and drown with my tears;
I must leave thee my fountain, O thou my flower, my sweet flower,
To drown and drown my love, thou shalt never drown;
I will drown thy sweet heart; thou shalt not drown thy love; thou shalt not drown thy heart
In my


======== CHECKPOINT 015 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Certainly as they were in a rage; for that they had in one of them the knife which she had with her left hand she took and then gave her to him as the hand to which she drew and drew.
As they were going on, he was seated on a couch on the left side of the couch, with his back to her, as he had drawn his breath and said to her:
“What in thee is this, thou art a thief?
How canst thou be the thief of a virgin woman,
O that thou be of such a man,
I myself I never thought I would be able to slay thee,
To tell my mind how I should kill thee, I might not,
Yet thou art my sweet daughter, as my beloved son.
O have I not taught thee to be gentle?
O have I not taught thee to sing praises to me?
O have I not taught thee to take ill of me?
For what benefit canst thou dost derive from me,
Even from my tender love?
Who shouldest thou be my love, to love such as I desire
Who shouldst make me such love, to love him that I love?
Therefore if you are such as I am,
Even if your name be my love,
If your name be thy name, then are you my daughter.
She being now come, she had gone and sat on the couch which she had kept,
But he with her she sat on his side,
The young couple had gone and looked at each other,
Then their eyes met, and then they saw one another.
She had, now, for her part, gone away,
She had not the habitation of looking upon any one else.
Her maid did not have the habitation of being her master,
Her maid did not even look upon them.
She did not know how to be with them,
She knew not how to be with her husband,
She knew not how to be with her children,
She did not know where they came from,
Nor would she let them be in the house they lived in;
She knew not how to say to them in the midst of the wilderness;
They did not have ears, and if they did hear,
they did not hear her cries,
nor did she weep if she did weep.
If she did not be angry at him with her tears,
He would have gone on and done her that he should have done her;
But he would not have done her the same;
When he did go on, she did not leave him,
She did not leave him: and she did not leave him,
Her tears would not be a part of his words,
Her tongue would be a part of his words.
He would not look at her eye in the distance,
She would not glance at her face,
He would not look at her face:
But if she were her mistress she would not do what he did,
And that she should do that he did.
Her maid did not have a feeling of pain in her heart;
She did not fear him when he was strong;
Her maid did not fear him when he was weak:
Her maid did not fear him when he was strong;
Her maid did not fear him when he was weak;
Her maid did not fear him when he was weak:
She did not fear him when he was weak;
Her maid did not fear him when he was weak:
She did not fear him when he was weak.
She did not fear him when he was strong;
She did not fear him when he was weak;
She did not fear him when he was strong;
She did not fear him when he was weak;
She did not fear him when he was strong;
She did not fear him when he was weak:
She did not fear him when he was weak;
She did not fear him when he was weak:
She did not fear him when he was strong;
She did not fear him when he was weak:
“Love is not my love, my love is not your love,
Nor the world shall ever forget my love.
Therefore do I hate you, do I hate thee,
My self, my self, thy self, thy self, thy self:
Love hath made me your love, my self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self:
No, my self, my self, my self, my self, my self:
But love cannot make me your love.
My self, my self, my self, my self, my self:
You are my self, my self, my self, my self, my self, my self, my self:
So you cannot love me, my self, my self, my self, my self, my self:


======== CHECKPOINT 016 OUTPUT # 001 ========

inspecting you,” said they, “we were born to live a happy life.”
The maid, still sitting, still weeping, the two ladies began, “May I beg pardon?”
“I am in love with your queen,” said they, “and it is the pleasure I love more than my father’s love; so that no other mistress but me could love my queen so strongly.”
The maid’s tears were quivering, the tears flowed from her eyes, so it fell upon the red bed, and her tears ran down to the side of the bed, as if to show her tenderness.
‘I had never thought that my dear queen should say to my friend, ‘I wish you would pardon my disgrace, my shame.’
“My love, my love, and I have sworn a word to you, to you, and your sake: but I would have no wish that my soul should have your love, nor your honour’s honour, nor your honour’s honour, nor your honour’s honour, nor my honour’s honour, nor your honour’s honour, nor my honour’s honour; thou art my sweet friend, my lover of my life, my self, and thy self’s self’s self,
I have no doubt that thou shalt love them all, yet with me thou art not.
Thus my dear friends were gathered, my heart with them; all his love, all his grief, all his remorse, all his shame, all his death.
He took a long pause before speaking, and then his hand, that was with him, stood before him; his lips were soft with his own sweet lips, and his hand was fastened with his own kisses.
“O sweet love, my dear queen! you will not hate me when I die,
But then will I tell thee my life, thy life, my dear friend’s life,
If I do kill you, then mayst thou rest assured that I shall never kill thee,
O love, my dear queen! my love must have me, and thou dost not know me,
Because I am not his lover, nor his mistress’s mistress.
As for this love, what love, or what passion, shouldst thou kiss,
For if thou dost have it, it is for thee to blame;
I shall make thee cry, and make thee weep;
And this will be the beginning of thy beauty, my love to thee,
And of mine own love to thee, my dear friend’s love to thee.”
“If love, in thee, is not so sweet as thyself,
It is as thy heart, and his love to thee,
And all my love that I owe to thee,
For it is my self’s honour, mine self’s honour.
To me, you have no reason why you should be in this bed,
Or to me, why you should not be here;
If you could leave me my body, I would kill you.”
And this she gave him a long time, and then he began again,
And then he said, “My dear darling, that dear friend
Shall not I swear by the blood, or by his blood;
For that thou art my beloved, my dear friend’s friend,
That thou art my love, my love’s love, thy love’s love,
But that thou art my slave, my slave, my slave, thy slave, thy slave,
But that thou art mine, that thy slave is mine,
Thou art mine, that thy slave is mine, thou art my slave, my slave, thy slave, thy slave, thy slave, thy slave, thy slave, thy slave, thy slave, thy slave, thy slave.”
“My sweet friend,” quoth he, “let me tell thee how I live;
My love, my friend, and love’s love’s love,
And love’s love, love’s love, love’s love’s love,
And love’s love, love’s love’s love, love’s love, and love’s love:
And love’s love, love’s love, love’s love’s love, and love’s love:
And love’s love, love’s love, love’s love, and love’s love, and love’s love, and love’s love,
And love’s love, love’s love, and love’s love, and love’s love, and love’s love:
And love’s love, love’s love, and love’s love, and love’s love:
Then my sweet friend, my dear friend, this is the true state of my heart,
That thou art mine and am mine to bear:
If thou art my friend, this is the state of my heart,
And my heart’s heart is my life, and my life’s life is my death;
Therefore I love thee to-day, and to-morrow I will weep,
And tomorrow, tomorrow and in the day


======== CHECKPOINT 016 OUTPUT # 002 ========

liar. I do not wish to be angry with my lover, but to live with her; she is not my friend. I have seen her blush when I did look her, and when my mind, as I had seen her, saw her blush with her eyes.
“And now you must excuse me from this disgrace; but have your life and love, my friends, my love; do as I would do, if thou dost not do what I ask thee; but when thou shouldst, with thy hand, take thine eye and wilt thou not do it with my friend, I swear I would be thy son, and not your son, or to make thee the subject, but to take what thou didst ask, as I might beg thy pardon and make thee this my son, to say to thee, “I love thy mind, but never thy love, and my life and love have no love, either my life or thy love. I do not make thee love my husband or his wife; for if I had married him, my love would not be to his wife’s liking, for it was not with thee that I should have loved him.
“Therefore, thou art not mine debtor, my husband nor my wife. I make you my husband and my wife, but my mistress never taught me why I did what I did; nor did she teach me my reason to love, and make her believe I was your debtor, and that I am yours, and yours as thy debtor, and that I am yours and your husband.
“Now, thou art my love; it is mine alone, that you should love me; but love to love thy own self is love to love others; to love one another you have my self, and to love them another, and to love them another, both I have but one, both I have one; but I thyself, but thou mineself, that I thyself am not thy self, I do thyself thyself thyself, and myself myself thyself thyself, that I thyself art thyself, to be thyself my self.”
“So, my love, that thou so desirest, do not take advantage of me, but of all, and do thy love to me as if to the best; but that thou so desirest do not take advantage, but do not live with me: so therefore, therefore do my love with your husband, and with me as if you had given to me this kind of love.
“For if you are not my husband, mine self is mine. I have taught thee not how thou art my husband, for thou art my husband, but how I am thy self. When thou art thyself my husband, I will make thee my husband again; but if thou lovest myself, thou shalt make mine mine again, and I will not make thee my husband again, and so to you again.”
“As thou art my husband, I will make thee my husband again; thou shalt not be mine again; but, my husband’s sake, thyself is mine, as my self is mine, and thou shalt not be my husband’s, as mine was mine.
“Therefore thou art my debtor, my debtor, my debtor, my debtor, my debtor, my debtor, my debtor.
“And yet, since thou art my debtor, my debtor, my debtor, my debtor, my debtor, my debtor, my debtor, thy debt, thy debt, thy debt, thy debt, thy debt, thy debt, thy debt; thou dost be all the greater debtor, for me thou art none, and none other, and none other, and none other, thou dost make of me my debtor, and none other, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor; and yet, since thou dost make me my debtor, thou dost make me my debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy creditor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy creditor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy creditor, thy debtor, thy debtor, thy creditor, thy creditor, thy debtor


======== CHECKPOINT 016 OUTPUT # 003 ========

transport’s power, and so forth.
But there is another side to this which I, the master, do not see.
“You are my lord, and thou mustst serve me better.
‘What will I say if I give the hand to thy love?
If I leave thee, thou shalt not go
To find the man who holds my love,
A woman to love or a stranger to kiss,
‘I’ll prove my love’s favour, and will pay
my fair dowry in love’s favour;
Or the maid of the sweet woman,
As sweet as my soul’s self, will be, with all her power,
And every slave will have to give his own to the queen.’
“But love, my mistress! but never shall she teach thee that lesson,
And be taught not your own to learn,
But to me as it is to love’s slave,
To him is given my praise;
She is your love, my own friend;
Her love is all thy good,
Which I know not, my dear daughter, from her being,
Whose heart is the light of thy sight.
To whom the love of a maiden can seem,
She, though for my love’s sake she be,
Will take thee, the maiden, whose heart I do not know
She takes thee.
‘Look, there is an old man, whose hair I did wear,
Which doth cover a child in the bed;
My sweet babe is on the edge of his bed;
Whereon she turns back, and the stranger looks,
The boy is weeping; and he lies, and the maiden,
Whereupon he kisses the woman, and the babe
And, for a fleeting moment, they remain.
‘And then this woman, in haste,
To say, ‘Gave thee a love so dear,
Let me, thou fool, show you what love’s end
When you are so loved;
that you not in my true heart,
Even to the very end may think thy dear;
But that thy love, being so dear,
My love’s true end was to kill thee.
‘”She will not yield, when she can,
To the world in the womb, where death lies;
And then to the world with the life,
Which to me is the self, of all,
Since thou art my self; and when thou art my self,
Then no world that can behold me is my self;
Nor my self, my self in thy self,
I must kill in love.’
‘That which I love, that which I fear,
That which I do not love,
Which I do not think I hate,
That I fear I love not,
that I hate not that which I love,
That I do not think I love not,
That I hate not that which I do not hate,
That I do not think I love not,
That I do not think that I do love not,
But that I do not love that which I do not love;
Therefore I would die, if it would not kill me;
If there be such a heart that the time can cure thee,
And then love should leave thee free,
Which is the best gift I have ever made,
That you might not wish to kill me.
‘O, for love, and all these things which I have said,
Who knows not what I have seen
The way wherein my beloved eye can shine?
My love, and all these things which I have seen,
For love’s sake do I not say I see it so,
But do not think I love you so;
For your love shall ever be so great,
The most powerful of all my loves.
‘”Now you, O fool, why didst thou letst live in the world,
Which being a living thing can live to die?
You do that which thou dost think best,
For love’s sake I can not,
Yet love’s worth should survive,
For love’s sake it shall never be.
“Love, do not suppose thy heart be strong enough,
Or do not love not love so much as thou givst,
To see the dead in love’s self.
To love and hate, so love’s self shall have.
Love, you see my grief is so deep,
That I may weep in the dark;
As for my sorrow, I will not weep.
The devil, he will not be proud;
Who can boast he that my love hath been,
Or think to the dying,
That I may say, ‘How am I?.’
Or, ‘How am I?’
‘How am I, for thou art the first of the many;
I, for I am the last, and I cannot die.
‘You were


======== CHECKPOINT 016 OUTPUT # 004 ========

notably for the benefit of others;
Or do their self-will be good?
Thou must be proud that I am, when thou art not.
How often so fair a summer is dost thou?
My soul hath taught me that my self-love is not to be;
But, as if all things were like this,
Which the best kind of love did make:
All that I now, in spite of all others, love, and hate,
Till we both of two worlds die.
“Thou shalt not give in thy love to love’s foul nature,
But by thy grace, that you may love me, I will help thee,
That in my true love shall I give thee, that thou mayst love me as thou best lovst,
If thou canst in my good will I give thee.
Thou shalt not say, “I love thee,” as though thy thought was right;
Or in any case be sure it’s wrong, for thou didst say so:
“But, I love thee, and love thee so well,
That I shall give thee such a better of life,
That I shall make thee so happy as to die,
And not so much to death for ever, if thou hast one,
For when the times best are but so short,
Even with those that do not best,
To think my time is too short, to love one another,
For love’s sake? let me tell it how my time is,
That thy time is far too short, for in mine time is so long.
In thy time I see my eyes, I hear my heart grow,
And my body grow up, and I perceive myself:
When I in my body say, ‘The world to him from hence,’
My heart beats with that which my heart hath grown,
And my heart with that which my mind hath grown,
I hear thee with all my hearts, and all that is mine.
But in thee thou shalt not praise, nor reprove,
Though thy love’s beauty give me delight,
If it ever doth lend my true love to thy good,
It doth in my true love doth extend,
To show thy fair love’s truth, and my truth’s beauty.
Yet then thy love’s false love doth lend thee beauty,
And your true love’s true love doth extend.
To see in thee this false love doth lend me glory;
And in thee this false love doth be praised,
And in thee my false love doth praise thee;
For thou art so great a friend of mine eyes,
That thou beheld my love in thy heart,
And love in thy love’s eyes made this sweet one,
And then on my tongue I love that which I have lov’d,
As if thou art still in a thousand things,
And when I behold your false love, the truth is like the light.
Thy love did, with thy true love, teach thee this,
The sweet of thy love’s truth did, with thy true love, teach thee this:
Thus did I, then that thou love’s love taught,
And this thou art, thy love’s love is true,
In spite of thy love, being to thy shame my love,
If thou didst love my true love, I would not love thee,
Therefore do I think it is right; but not my true,
To say, “I love thee so much better than thy false love,
That thou wilt have such a bad, bad love,
And such a bad, bad love, that no one can ever be satisfied,
When you do that! why, my dear, why hast thou forsaken?
Thy true love’s false love is to have,
And to be despised, I am to love, and not so much to live.
But yet thou dost my true love do me wrong,
And yet thou dost my true love am to live,
If my true love lived, thou wouldst be the living,
And the living to live and the dead.
But thou dost never live but my self,
And I live and die for this sake,
For the sake of thee, who is your self.
By all this my life is thus done,
My life is thus done, my life is thus done;
And this the most I want is that thou shouldst live.
My self is dead, my self is alive,
I have never yet felt myself alive;
For thou art dead, thou art alive, thou art alive, thou are alive,
Therefore live me, and never die,
For it is no more than to die by my will.
For now in thee shall I be dead, for thou art dead,
The dead I give up for my sake, and


======== CHECKPOINT 016 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Tour is not to be put on hold
But thou shouldst be brought to thy end,
Thy heart and thy hand, for the sake of that which thou shalt never see,
To carry thee away and let me bear thee to this end,
This is not the life I should have spent in a man’s life;
And that for thee I should have spent more,
For I should have spent the greater of your joy,
Or I should have been lost, and you would be lost
Or I should have suffered more in your grief.
‘O, what dost thou wilt do, O king of kings!
What canst thou do not make for me, or wherewithst I go,
A king so young, and so good, and so proud,
Even as a father, and thus so gentle to me,
That I should love him with a more tender eye,
Which would not hate the love of mine eyes.
If thou dost have the pleasure of love, and the love of my heart,
then love should be my desire, and to my heart be mine,
Since I had it, and I did not love it,
O, love is not the thing of love’s kind,
No, thou art not to it, O my boy,
Love is, as it were, a false love,
For in every creature hath been created.
Love is in thee, wherefore my heart is made,
If thy breath should find some of thee,
So let my breath do no more to drown thee,
Or more than the noise of my lungs, or the clamorous moan of the
O’erweening horse, or the clamour of the morn.
“O, why didst thou, poor fair, be in prison,
When it were a great task to obtain his favour,
Or if it were but a trial of a more
Expedient thing, how couldst thou still endure
By all the days thou have yet spent,
And be the fairest, and most virtuous, of all the
Overseas world, and of all men.
“O, my soul, and I do fear,
My heart’s beauty must be more than mine eyes;
For mine eye is to me as the sun doth shine,
And mine body in me as in a lion makes his wing.
“No, I see that my dear, my precious, thy beauty doth not shine,
Nor this, thou doest what thou didst say
To me.
‘But I see, in your eyes, and in mine heart’s love;
I know thy love, and my love’s love is all the glory,
And I live my life to the end.
O, let not thy self dost thou kill me
And steal from thy heart’s precious love,
And give to her that thou mayst bear her to thee,
So that she may bear thee for ever to this day,
In your eyes I should have been the fairest, and the fairest.
‘Hast thou not seen the beauty and abundance of thy self,
How often that I have been your debtor,
That, as one of my most loyal lovers,
May the tears of thy beauty in my heart rest
In this happy moment of thy grace.
‘But the shame of a single day’s work,
O my dear friend, that that I might not be forced,
My love would have none to shame,
nor should she do more harm than thou didst lend.
“A thousand examples, but no one will seem to compare
The great sum which each one of you was,
To each his own hand it did not issue.
The world as I know the world in my heart,
It did not say, ’tis my turn to give
To you that I have lent thy grace to thy sight;
No, I beg of thee a new heart;
When I beheld my hand, the blood from that eye
Which the world would have drawn
From your cheek did draw, on the part of that eye
Which my eye was the first to see,
So would my eye, on your face, as your face
Till your eyes were made of silver,
And mine eye the world could not see you.
‘”Therefore, O my true self, do not love, and do not fear;
For it is that I was born, that I live, and am:
For what is it that I did do?
‘Hast thou not, O my true self, thou dost live
My life with me; but live it with me; for I can not live with thee
Which thou didst live with me:
If thou didst desire, and I, what love will I give thee?
And what didst thou beguile with


======== CHECKPOINT 017 OUTPUT # 001 ========

those you would give a friend.
A man of thy image, whose heart is like a knife, he opens her eyes,
So as the blade opens, her lips press forth a kiss;
She then calls aloud to his friend,
And they kiss together, and when they are dead they stay;
Yet for him nothing is more dear than that which I now make.
So he takes a deep breath, and quiets himself,
As soon as he thinks what is said,
Shall he look upon his friend’s tears and cry,
And he, in a deep groan, exclaims,
‘Thou know’st I not, that is enough;
But if I did, it would not stop my grief.
‘I never think it in my heart to say that,
As I am of thee I am happy;
And if this were your friend I should not weep,
But do not weep, for in me thou shalt never be,
Thou art of mine, not my self.
But this is a true story;
But it may be true, but cannot I.
He that I am in him shall be your friend,
And in thee shall we both be friends,
And then one shall have more, but another shall be less.
“My friends I have made thee my enemy,
My enemies thou art my best friend.
If thou loveest them my enemies shall be with me:
If not, I will do all in my power,
To do their pleasure to me.
“So to all that my love hath done;
My love to thee so done my love did have.
‘This in love is what it takes to keep them in my sight;
And as they love thee so love my love is not gone.
So to me they would think to me all this,
Their hearts that love me seem to be more than love’s kind.
They that love me seem to me like myself,
And in my love are all my love to me,
Since all this is my love’s love, and that all these I give
Be them, that you may love me more, that I may not,
And I love not you more than you do my love.
He that hath not seen him now, is dead;
But when he sees my eye again, he is angry,
And this will never leave him,
And the shame of his being, he fears,
To give him up and leave him in his sad state.
Now it is to me this I must confess,
O that there are none in thee in me,
But in thee in me is love,
My soul, by all my power,
My self I am, in thee is mine,
But in thee is mine to do the duty.
“I want to live, and this desire is a temptation.
Thy love will then take thy soul by surprise;
And this shall be thy excuse, if you did break the vows,
If thou hast not done so.
Thou art of my self’s, if thou dost desire thee so;
If thou dost desire me so,
You canst thou make me a servant, and that what thou dost call my’self,
That thou dost love my self so much more than my self,
Even the same heart that I have in me makes me a slave,
And what is thy love to me but my own worth,
Like to the self it bears in me.
‘Thy love, my love, my love’s worth,
Thy love, my love’s worth and love’s worth
Thy love, my love’s worth and love’s worth
Thy love’s worth and love’s worth and love’s worth
O my love, my love, my love’s worth and love’s worth
If thou didst break my vows and do not break me,
Or else be a captive or a prisoner,
And live in this place of my heart,
To die before I die,
For now I desire none but myself,
And I cannot lose all of you,
What my love hath done is worth less than all this I have.
What it did is worth more than all this,
And what it did is worth less than all this,
Or to my grief, what the sorrows of these griefs
Have done amiss.
Thy love, my love, my love’s worth,
My love’s worth and my love’s worth
Thy love’s worth and my love’s worth
So then I was a captive to thee,
And I was now a prisoner to thee;
But thy sorrows have done a thing;
And now thou wast my love and thy grief,
But my tears have done no harm;
Thy tears and thy tears do no harm,
Or at any


======== CHECKPOINT 017 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Near to the east, where some birds fly, and some chase.
And when the wind comes to break it,
For thou hast made no fear of them,
But fear lest thy part should be neglected,
Thy love shall be so tainted by thy love,
That thou shalt not bear my words.
“Be still, and make haste, and not be afraid,
The sight of thee to those that love thee:
But when they see thee so ill,
They will see nothing more, and be like a hawk to thee:
So for that reason, when I am sick,
I am ill and will not see thee again:
And then that which I have sworn,
When the day of death comes, will I not weep for thee,
And weep for thy beloved;
Then shall I not hate thee,
And let thy name be immortal;
For I am your love, thy husband, and thy friend.
And in thy breast thy pride falls,
And on the breast of my breast my joy shines,
To the world, to thee, my love, to thee.
When this I do, thou art mine.
What a poor, wretched creature shouldst thou be
Who wouldst live like a fool to a stranger?
“Let him live, let him die,” she exclaims, “you are my self.”
“O then thou shalt live, I am dead,” he replies, “I am my self,
Like a fool who lives by a promise made.
Thus it is, that thou shouldst never be with me again.
And when she had begun to weep,
And dote upon his cheek, she thought him to be weeping.
‘”No, he is alive, but a fool.”
‘Then what sorrows should I hear from thee,
Thy tears, that should dote on thy heart,
O why shouldst thou live, that mayst not weep,
For I love thee in thy own eyes?
“Not, therefore, not: if thou lovest me,
My self will make thee a prisoner of myself;
My self will make me a slave to myself:
I shall have the earth no more, nor the sun my love;
And what am I then to blame for your loss,
If you have no soul but that love which my eyes seek,
With me would that thou shouldst leave me alive,
Or die as soon as I should see you alive,
How late the earth is done away with the night,
And you may think me dead, in my youth thou art so dead!
‘O therefore that thou art my true love!
How sweet it is, how much I have to weep:
My tears are so heavy that I do not look back,
That I do not weep for the love that thou have.
But what I have lost in my mind,
That cannot ever be rekindled to my desire,
For I am thy love, thy husband, my friend.
When this time I do weep,
My sweet-hearted heart shall not yet have rest,
And all my heart shall be emptied of the stain.
O now my beloved love! I should have lived in her arms,
Would have sought the night to wake me in her embrace.
‘Yet thou shalt not be his mistress, nor his love his slave.
“What do you mean, love is the same;
Love is the sweetest thing on earth;
But when thy love is the other,
Then thou art my mistress.”
‘But, that love that did I hear thou call
Thy breath upon my lips, and gave me to my face;
To kiss all the lips that I should kiss,
O dear girl, as often as I should,
Will to thee the day will be spent:
Or my tears will last for ever in my cheeks.
‘O then I will not do thee wrong,
Nor can thy loving eye steal my heart
And will be the eye of my love.
“I know, not that thou art, but as thou hast promised,
Thou art mine: all that thou art I have,
And all that I have will be yours,
If thou love me, and I am thy slave,
For thou art mine.”
“And to me, and the other to thee?”
“As you can tell,” quoth she, “
The two words I will make my mind forget,
That of you I shall say to you,
And will tell you how I can live again,
That life is eternal.
And so with your loving eyes did I weep:
For I will love you, and you will love me,
And every tear will be a mark of love.
But to thee, and to thy love,
Since I have told all to thee this,
What love shall


======== CHECKPOINT 017 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Fresno and then to his own time; then to his own time he did live; then his own time he did live
“So that he did not cease.”
“The devil hath been kept here.”
This was no doubt so far from my liking, but I did see how well it was, and I did believe
The devil’s devil had had his revenge;
And when he had slain him he did slaughter him;
His soul, which hath done such evil to her,
Since death is his last, and no more than a tear of grief
He must take her place, as the earth herself
Was in her womb, where she lies, where her tender tender beauty lies
And she breathes the sweet vapour and the breath of the air,
And she is not dead, though the vapour and the air
As the sweet vapour of my love hath not,
And yet it doth in her lungs, by the breath of my life;
Her smell, my own odour is strong enough to bear
The wind’s breath in her breath, and so I breathe
Her name, it being his, it cannot not be denied;
And, being not here, he shall show the way
For she to find him by night, where she can smell
A new flower, and he shall make it stronger;
But he shall find the best that can never be left
And give the best to the worst.”
He did not leave her, but gave her his hand;
And to that she put her palm;
Then with love, in loving tenderness
To keep her hand to mine:
Yet the rest of me, I cannot stand this,
For I do not desire him to die,
Nor I will abide his death; nor will I see
But, with all my grief, she takes leave
And takes up that which she holds, to live by her heart,
So she is dead, and all this she did.
This is her grief which she hath done;
When I shall see her, that shall live for my grief.
“So you are all the more proud that you were.
How would it then have been if it were not so;
If it were, I should be proud,
And so is it, as I, having seen you be so;
And yet not being so, I should not weep,
As all that I did, I am proud of you,
And yet you, your eyes would not show me.
O thou, that I can bear so much worse,
Thy eyes may seem as white as the sun’s;
And you must not wonder then that I love thee,
And I never love thee more than thou,
Because thou shalt hate me that thou despiseest.
For to me thou didst hate me, and so did I do,
My heart never could love thee, nor could it ever love thee,
My heart still loved thee, and therefore never could I love thee,
And yet thou wilt find me, and I shall kill thee,
So long as I remain the same,
When thou wilt have them both, for love is no more,
But death is in thy power, and my life is in thy hand,
Since my life being so long is to be made
And yet thou wilt still die, and yet I die,
Then will I not love you?”
“No, no! but thou wilt never love me.
Thou art of thy own invention, and mine invention is thy self.
But I love thee, and I will die for thee,
And you for the death of others I will die,
So that thou wilt never love me, nor for this my death is,
Or for this death to be more than death be dead,
Nor can I make thee proud by any outward beauty:
Thy pride alone shall be proud, and none else will be proud.
My love hath drawn the knife in my heart,
And drawn it out, but you did not have it.
Since they are still mine, I cannot speak now,
If I do say so, I will not hear you.
Yet my heart shall rejoice with you; my eyes shall love you,
For I have been drawn back, from you with thy power,
So do I not fear you for your sake,
For my love is pure, and I cannot bear to hear you,
Yet my heart is full of joy, and you will be my slave,
The one whom I love best: this being,
I’ll live, for fear that if you love me,
I will be gone, and by the sword my life shall be saved.
But if you see this picture you shall see I have sworn
To kill the man with my life that was my life.
But what do you think of that?
O


======== CHECKPOINT 017 OUTPUT # 004 ========

slashed as though in prayer of his majesty,
That in him, as in the whole, still still doth the sun,
Like to the black heavens, doth the light that wreathed the earth,
And in his midst, by the golden light,
In his face, by his pale shadow,
As if in his blood, as if in his tears,
In his eyes, in his cheek, and in his body,
Such a spectacle to be seen,
In which, by some impiety of imagination,
The image had been in this world and in the past,
And, in his true self-love, as in his false self-love,
But at last did it show how, by his self-loathing
He had suffered all these to be done away,
And yet they never did be done away:
For there still is hope, and wherever the hope lies,
That not he himself, but all who live, shall find
In all the world a true love, and wherefore in him,
To whom he belongs, all this might be done;
For then he can not return to his self,
And, therefore, he must be done away:
But now is he by whom he doth rest:
For in this wretched situation I may weep,
And thus he should remain dead:
And in this helpless state, by that foul force
I could never see him dead again.
“O thou, fair and perfect being,
For thou didst make us what we desire,
When thou didst strive to prove what we desire,
Even to say thou didst beguile me, ‘How canst thou be what thou hast beguiled me,
When a boy is thy child? and how canst thou be what I beguile thee?
When thou didst beguile me, to prove how thou doest,
So it is with me, this that didst beguile thee,
Thou couldst give all this to me, that I could say I did beguile thee.
‘This I do in my own self, but for the sake of thy self.’
“Thy love, it will, it will, thou dost make me,
That I might give thee what thou didst give me,
For thou shalt be free, and not that which hath my best
Thou didst desire in my own self:
If thou didst desire it in me, thou shalt not be free,
And it shall not be with thee, though thou mayst beguile myself.
‘For why should I not be free, or be my self free?
If thou didst not desire that which didst satisfy me,
Then all this that I didst desire was a fair use,
And, if thou didst desire, then all this was made in thee:
That I may be free, and not that which hath my best,
I should desire that which was given by thee,
Which thou dost bestow on all that may be,
Of whom I didst desire thee, to whom thou didst dost give
This thy life, this thy life to be;
For it was in thy soul that I gave it,
That they that had it, were freed, and that the time expired.
‘”And this is the end of my life;
This is the end of the world, this is the end of my life,
And that which didst in me leave me in despair,
And this which didst to me be.
And in that, I cannot seem to have been free,
For this was the purpose of my life,
That in it I should survive.
“O thou so loving creature of my heart,
If not at last shalt be imprisoned in this prison,
For if you love me, I will weep and groan,
And in vain I ask pardon.
For you know what it means that I have been put to shame,
For all this, you know what it means,
That your love may be, your love may be, and I will make it.
O! thou mad, wilt not live,
When thou art your mad self, and you live to spite,
That I in my rage will fight and I will slay you,
Whilst I in thy rage will hunt and hunt the hunted,
Then with my rage you will be your prey, and I will slay you,
Though you live, and I die, and still you have it;
And you know how to defend me, and how to be revenged.
Then I tell thee that you didst do all this,
And now I give you excuse, and tell you again what I didst do.
‘And what I didst make for your love
Was your self, my


======== CHECKPOINT 017 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Mana from the wind, and with this, made haste to his seat: so as they ran, they made haste to the gates, where they were met by that invisible force that had seen them.
Then said she, O thou whom I call, what wondrous marvel is this, that thou art my friend, when I come to thee, to hear thee?
“To me it’s like a flower,” quoth she, “a bright red, so bright and glorious, that when I behold it, my mind will forget what thou art, and I’ll never leave it, except as a mortal man, so long as I live.”
This is a good way of feeling a love, and if there be such, it must be not too high: for it is high for a man who receives a love that is so high; whereas an infant may see a rich and fair flower, and he may find one that would have none.
For it is no wonder that thou art the most beloved of all, though she be in a bad situation.
“For I will not stay there, that thou hast stolen the love of all my love, and my life will be ruined in the sin of stealing thy beauty.
“Now now I have gone too far,” quoth she, “and I have come to my end, having done the greatest harm, and the greatest gain.
“So do you,” quoth she, “I now wish to know your cause, and your fate.
“Now tell me your cause, and your fate, and I will leave thee alive with that which is so dear to thee, for I do not hate thee, but I fear not your hate, for there is no love so cruel to me.
“And why didst thou hate me, and why didst thou best so kind to me?
“Since I am not good,
Thy love should perish, if I have not sworn in thy name.
“For to thee, mine own worth cannot be denied,
That being an object of envy and lust,
What was a woman to thee, what was man to me?
If I had said nothing, my heart might have chafed the contents thereof;
For to thee the world is like a thousand pearls;
For the world hath more than one colour,
And what is that is yours, is mine.
“For he that is angry with me is guilty of my guilt,
And for me he that is offended is guilty of my innocence:
So the blame upon you cannot be transferred to me,
My heart may still be in the case of his love,
And the blame upon you cannot be transferred to me.
“Now then I, this gentle maiden, desire thee to be
Towards thyself that I may have the honour of living.
For I know that my love, not mine own, is more strong than thy,
For when thy heart is broken, the wound in mine thigh begins
To tear to tear again the pain which the breach had brought.
Yet if you were a father, thou didst bear mine child;
‘Therefore if thou love’st a son, thou couldst have a father,
And I am a child of thy sweet love, thou art thy son’s heir,
And thou, my love, is in the heart of all that liveth,
And the love that didst thee live on that you didst die,
For I would not bear thee your son’s shame, nor your son’s sorrow,
Nor the pain of your pain, nor your life, nor your sin, nor your sin, nor your sins, nor your suffering.
“I am you, O son of Troy; thou, my love, am thou the sweetest of all
Whom in my heart all love must bear,
And all love must bear a husband that is my love.
“O, thou wast so young! I will kill thy love,
If I cannot see thee alive,
O my love, what a man I should have been,
I did not know thee as one, nor as one like thee,
Nor as one with me; nor as one in my heart as one who hath died,
Wherefore why are I so weak in thy image?
That I should have thy beauty, and not this
Who am mine eyes, and whose eyes are my eyes?
O, my dear friends, we must say more;
For the truth is that in my heart lies love,
In my heart, love, love, love, love, love;
Love, love, love, love, love, love;
O love, love, love, love, love, love;
Love, love, love, love, love, love, love;
O love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love;
Love, love, love, love,


======== CHECKPOINT 018 OUTPUT # 001 ========

verb as a ‘twixt’, “but no; for I do not seem to love thee, when thou art mine;”
For he must have a fair ear, which hath been made,
And if he should give a more, he will not, but he knows,
And so he doth give her a more.
But if it please him, then his fair mind
May see her bewitch him with a smile,
But if it please him, he knows her in her cheek,
And if she bewitch him, so do I know
Thy heart’s joy that I do hear thee speak;
And I tell thee thou art mine: and I will not be mine,
That all my being is mine, my mind is mine;
Thy beauty is mine, thy name is mine,
My heart’s honour thou art,
Thy pride is mine, thy love is mine.
Thus it is said, as I did thee,
I am one of thy love’s eyes,
Who doth see the truth of this verse,
Or if thy heart, thou art mine, thy true eye,
Beheld in his beauty, in his true heart,
With eyes which all eyes make,
He thinks them false, and his eyes make them true;
Then his eye should see them true, but to his true heart,
The eye might see the true, but to his true heart,
To make them true he should see them false,
But when he did so, that eyes should see him false,
And if he would thus do,
He doth say thus,
How much I love thee, but yet thou dost never love me;
And that I should die is a true crime,
That when I die I die no longer love thee,
but I die of an unjust murder,
Wherefore thou art a living being,
Being an evil being: so that death hath no excuse
To kill me, nor excuse to have me dead.
So, for all this that he hath done,
He hath done all in this he hath done:
But as he hath done, so he hath done not.
And for these two reasons did I go,
Being at home with my wife:
Having so late seen her, and so late seen her,
And my wife being so late done,
She should not have been to do the ceremony,
But she should have had it, and if she had not done
it it, she would have gone with my wife,
That we might have her with our children:
Thence we have our present to eat,
And the morning is spent in all that is in that present.
But it was that this was my present to eat;
My present, that is all in it,
To give to the beggar.
But as for this, my heart is mine, and I am thy debtor,
For I did thee lie so, that thou wilt bear it:
Now this was mine fault, that thou didst lie:
But to the thief it was lawful,
For he didst steal, but this was no theft:
But this was a theft unto myself,
For that I do not bear it to thee.
Thou art but of a poor woman that needs it,
Since by nature hath made me poor in love:
That thou shouldst bear me to thy poor wits,
And then thou art but a worthless woman,
That by nature hath made me worthless in love,
Thy lusts are your own, and mine are your own;
But this to me you are, that in thee thy love
My love is greater than that which thou wilt bear.
-Nay, I will give you that which thou dost bear,
My love is as far away from thee as all the world,
That in my love is not to be seen,
And on the right hand I find none,
That in me no man can see me:
And to him I say, I would not live, but that thou didst live:
“What art thou to thy friends,
And to them thou dost think the truth;
For they are not so much of one,
To make them so one-kind, or of any other kind,
But so many other things are in one:
Yet they have not a single self which hath made,
Like the sun, but a single moon.
Yet thou hast so many self-made that do make,
And yet it is not me that do make it,
As it would be me if I had such as were not:
If a man should steal from the field,
Then I would not steal from thee, nor from my will,
But from the earth, in my will;
That would not take my will, nor mine heart,
But


======== CHECKPOINT 018 OUTPUT # 002 ========

$( in the list, to show which is the most famous

a number in the list, to add it in) and then to the end,

The most beloved of the books of my books,

The more I treasure them:

(though a fool, he that finds them)

His faults are fair, and they are pretty.

For I am rich,

’tis true, my life’s expense is so little,

That I have to pay for my self’s faults,

And this, in this world, is my self’s treasure:

“Here lies my debt,
I owe you two nights,
And then I am mad at you,
And then my woes are made a feast,
My self is as a beast,
The world, my self, is dead.

The thought of your tears, my poor self’s tears,
O love, the thought of my pride,
How is it with me to show the most love?
That is, that thou art the father of a child
And that thou art the mother of the proud of thy heart,
And how am I to tell thy tale,
that this is thy story I tell thee?
(What a shame I have been; and thy shame)
To see how I are made, how my name is called,
To see that this is my story,
How my shame is so great,
that my heart may be proud of my self,
So much so with thee that I can do it?
‘O that I love thee so,
For thou dost so hate thyself;
For thou wast so sweet to me,
With me, and me with thy lips,
My heart could not hear the voice, but with the breath
Within me the sound of the trumpet was.
‘That sound, that hath done the matter
That thou dost love so,
Which is like a trumpet, as deep as the ocean;
And though not deep at first,
It is as deep and deep, as deep is deep,
Whilst a fair, gentle ocean moves her breath,
And though it is as deep as the ocean,
Her breath still seems not to stop;
For it keeps on her breath, and she in her breath is silent,
So that it will be hard for him to speak,
To say ‘you love me.’
‘Yet I know thee, but I am of thee:
Thy body is full, and thy heart full of me,
And thy body with thee, and me with thee,
Both like thine eyes, thy thoughts are like mine eyes,
And I with thee, both like my head,
And in me, and in thee are the thoughts;
So thy name was, but mine was not.
‘O my heart’s love,
Make a fire for me thy furnace,
That my ashes may burn therein;
To make myself one with thee, let this thy flame:
Or else let thy fire stand as a fire in the sun.
‘The burning hot heaven hath burning heat and it is like fire,
The burning hot world and it is like heat:
If my soul was made pure I should live,
But my heart’s sweet heart be of shame,
And my heart’s cold heart be of pride.
‘This is thy reason why I doth hate thee,
Thy reason why I love thee so,
Thy reason why I doth boast of thy beauty,
My reason why I doth love thee so,
My reason why I doth boast of thy beauty,
My reason why I doth hate thee so,
Thy reason why I doth hate thee so,
My reason why I doth despise thee so:
And yet it doth not abide;
But it doth abide, still my heart is not set
And I do not set it aside.
‘But I did say, ‘How many thoughts do I still see
And think, with my eyes so full of my mind;
Which do I not know in my heart?
But I have some thoughts that seem to me,
And some thoughts that seem so,
That in them I are but unaware.
‘Nor will it be for me,
When I desire what I am willing,
To hate my self so that I am hated,
I should have no fear,
My self was a stranger, but in me is
And that in me is his fear.
‘But,’ quoth he, ‘if I did fear thee,
My heart would be as fair and pure as it was,
But if thou didst fear me,
My heart would not be so fair, nor my eye so bright,
If I did fear thee,
My heart would be as cold


======== CHECKPOINT 018 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Jean from this world had taught her a new form of virtue,
And had been the mistress of this ill;
She knew how to do wrong, as the night was still,
But she was still alive with the thought.
For in spite of the outward, she saw
The deep blackest shadow whereon it grew,
Inwards in a deep and deep glass,
And to her right and to her left she saw;
And what she saw in her own face, she had no more
What she heard from the world, that this world had told
Her how I had been born, and was dead.
“Look! here’s the face that I love;
I see you smiling; there’s another cheek to the right,
Whose brow is full of wrinkles, and wrinkles are a kind,
Of old, in a sense, with old scars:
Now, the world’s most dear thing, thou art in my heart:
Here’s what I must say to thee, for I love thee:
My dear sweet mistress, I love thee more than thou dost:
So kiss me, and I will kiss thee with thine,
My dear mistress, if thou have never seen this,
Harken unto thy words. ‘In all your beauty I do swear,
That when thou art dead, thou dost not live;
For then thy beauty can live still, for in thy grace is born,
That in my grace thou mayst live, and so shall I live,
So long as thou art dead, that shall live, and so shall I live,
And this day shall be a new day to thee, and this day shalt be a new time,
And so shall the world be in a state of sorrow,
The world of this time may grow in my heart,
Since thou livest for thy last time, and hence my life
When thou art dead shall live, and then it shall be time;
And the time will expire, and thy death shall be a new day;
The time will then be lost, and thy death shall be a new age;
The time will then die, and my soul shall be dead;
Thy life is dead, and so shall thy life be.
In thy grace art thou living, for thou shalt live, and shall live,
And this, then thy life shalt be.
Thy life is dead, and therefore thou shalt live, and shall live,
For my life is dead, my life is dead, and thus thy life shall be.
“But if thou hast seen, let me tell you,
That if thou shouldst look with pleasure,
That beauty, beauty, beauty in thy sight;
That beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty in thy hearing;
That beauty, beauty, beauty in thy eye,
That beauty, beauty, beauty in thy ear,
That beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty in thy heart,
That beauty, beauty, beauty in thy eye,
That beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty in thy mind,
That beauty, beauty, beauty in thy heart,
That beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty in thy heart,
That beauty, beauty, beauty in thy mind,
That beauty, beauty, beauty in thy heart,
that beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty in thy heart;
Beauty in thy mind, that beauty in thy heart!
Thy life is dead, and therefore thou shalt live, and shall live,
And now thy life is dead, and therefore thou shalt live,
Thou art in the middle of this great war,
And therefore I will kill thee on my revenge;
To slay him, I will kill him that thou art slain:
For thou art in the middle of a thousand sins,
That thou art buried with every sin,
That thy body with all sin is dead, and thy heart dead;
Therefore thou art dead, and therefore all that is alive
Whereon in this great slaughter I shall kill thee,
And thus shall this great slaughter end:
Thou art dead, and therefore all that is alive is dead,
Thou art in the middle of this great slaughter,
And therefore thou shalt kill me on my revenge:
For in that day that thou wast dead shalt I kill thee,
For when I see thee, I see thy face;
And yet thou shalt not kill me,
That thou art dead, and therefore thou shalt live,
And yet in thy death shall I kill thee,
For that shall I live, and yet in thy life shall I live;
So in that day that thou wast dead shalt thou live,
For in thy life shall I live, and yet in thy life shall I live;
So therefore in that day that thou wast dead shalt thou live;
And thus in that day shall I live, and yet in thy life shall I live;


======== CHECKPOINT 018 OUTPUT # 004 ========

613:30)

(Hanging upon his neck, as he sleeps)

As far as the sky, as the sky,

For his mind to his lips, he did speak;

But I, seeing what I did see,
What I did know did not abide:

My heart to my lips, my heart to his,

And his blood to my brow, his blood to my hand.

I love him so much, I cannot,

But what I know can be thought of;

That his lips I have heard are so soft,
Like the wax of his lips.

He tells me nothing of his affairs,
To whom he speaks ill,
Yet will not tell me the truth;
Nor will I think of what I have seen
In his fair eyes, and his fair nose,
Like his gentle tongue, like his sharp chin,
Like the gentle tip of a sharp knife;
Like his tongue is the sweetest of all.

‘My love, my love, your dear husband,
Make no vow, no vow of thine,
Or at least the only one to love,
Be willing for this, with love and fear of that;
And to-morrow I will make a vow,
Of one thing or another I do not wish
Or that would be my love’s, nor be mine.

‘O, dear friend! this vow will not suffice
To live a life, but make me a vow
of life which will bear,
This life, I will never live;
The world shall think my life ill,
And my self-deceit will keep me dead;
And no man hath an heir or self-bond
Which must I give, since he is dead?
‘My love, my love, thou art dead,
My love! my love! my love! my love! my love! my love! my love! my love!
‘The world knows my face, and I see thee,
What is she like in my eyes,
Like those who have the golden eyes,
Which can view me from the world,
To see that she is, though thou look a poor thing,
That thou shouldst be seen;
And if not, why shouldst thou see?
‘My love, my love, I live;
If thou wouldst know me,
And love, for thy self,
As thou art dead, do not seek for me:
I beg thee, that thou couldst see me alive.
What will thy dear daughter have of thee
Which thou seekest for, but cannot see?
But I will tell thee all, and that,
And what thou shouldst know, to thee
Thyself and thy friends, to thy self,
Then thou wilt not love me, nor let me live,
My love, my love, and my love,
Thou lov’d in me as thy self hath been;
For if thou wilt see it, it will show thee,
And what love to thee of all I have,
To thee for thy self I have seen:
For what a loving lover thou art!
In all my affairs my love is constant,
No longer is it to be measured, nor is it measured
With beauty’s measure, nor with truth’s love;
What do you think the fair beauty
Of this world hath so many false hairs?
Or that these so-proud creatures do inhabit
And in their self make it appear,
To those whom they love so well that they be proud?
‘O, dear friend! love is love, love is thy beauty!
Love and beauty are so dear,
Like a kiss will break upon thee,
And yet thou dost stay, to make thee look,
As I do forswore thee so.
‘If I did so, I might yet live,
The world should kill me for that.’
“How many times have I told this to you,
And the world did kill you for that,
And now it hath done it wrong,
So that all may know the shame
And in this shame I am now gone.
And therefore I know
What an ugly boy to be so,
A sad heart to be so,
Hastily with a rage he doth throw,
The boy’s hand being plucked away from his shoulder,
So the wind to strike it from the sky;
Then the poor bird of the night,
Who should have the place, and should not be touched,
Would be gone with a wind;
The wind then makes him stand,
And that on his body he looks down,
And then it is thought in his mind
That he saw him, that he knew him;
For it was that he should say,
How poor


======== CHECKPOINT 018 OUTPUT # 005 ========

identifiers for each of the forms that may be used in this invention; each of them being either one, and their function being that of a form, in all other respects, their act is the same; in the case of a device, therefore, the device being the device of which it is a part; in the case of a device of a kind, it is a part of the device; in the case of a device, then it is a part of the device.

Each one of the forms, whether made in the same thing, being their parts, or their parts having their parts, may not be expressed in the terms by which they are expressed.

“In these things which are understood, we may express in simple words the meaning which is the more true; by means of these words we may express the meaning which is the less true.

If any thing be but by accident, what can be it by chance? for the effect it produces in the case where it be, cannot be so affected as by the accident, nor be such in the case where it not be; therefore, as being but by chance, or in such a case by accident, that effect should have been such, that in every case by accident no other, but that effect which it produces, would have been, for instance, in my hand.”

“And what of my hand, if that be mine?”

“That hand,” quoth she, “of mine.”

“My hand,” quoth he, “of mine,” quoth he; and in that motion he leaps, and in that motion he shakes,

“Here is another part,” quoth he, “part which can be seen, but not so, and therefore no part can be seen, nor but that part which cannot be seen, cannot be seen.”

“And therefore is not this an accident of my hand, but my hand?”

“Not now, not now,” quoth she, “not now, not now, not now.”

“And therefore, being that part, which cannot be seen, cannot be seen,” quoth he, “I am not the one to see, and my hand to my right, but of the other,

“And therefore therefore is not this a defect, but a defect of my hand,

And therefore is not this a defect of mine hand, but mine right hand,

And therefore therefore is not this a defect of mine right hand,

But I will bear, and you will bear, and I will bear,

And therefore shall bear that which is right, and so shall bear that which is wrong,
And therefore shall bear that which is right, and therefore shall bear

That which is wrong, that you will bear, and you will bear,

And therefore shall bear that which is right, and so shall bear

That which is wrong, that you will bear, and you will bear,

And therefore shall bear that which is right, and so shall bear

That which is wrong, that you will bear, and you will bear,

And therefore shall bear that which is right, and you will bear,

And therefore shall bear that which is right, and you will bear,

And therefore shall bear that which is wrong, and you will bear,

And therefore shall bear that which is right, and you will bear,

And therefore shall bear that which is right, and you will bear,

And therefore shall bear that which is wrong, and you will bear,

Then shall bear that which is right, and you will bear,

And therefore shall bear that which is wrong, and you will bear,

And therefore shall bear that which is right, and you will bear,

And therefore shall bear that which is wrong, and you will bear,

And therefore shall bear that which is right, and you will bear,

And therefore shall bear that which is wrong, and you will bear,

And therefore shall bear that which is wrong, and you will bear,

And therefore shall bear that which is right, and you will bear,

And therefore shall bear that which is wrong, and you will bear,

Then shall bear that which is right, and you will bear,

And therefore shall bear that which is wrong, and you will bear,

Then shall bear that which is right, and you will bear,

And therefore shall bear that which is wrong, and you will bear,

And therefore shall bear that which is right, and you will bear,

And therefore shall bear that which is right, and you will bear,

And therefore shall bear that which is wrong, and you will bear,

Therefore shall bear that which is wrong, and you will bear,

And therefore shall bear that which is right, and you


======== CHECKPOINT 019 OUTPUT # 001 ========

thinkable the greater to be revenged,
With so many in me thou art my prey,
And with thy face I shall find thee;
As thou wilt see the wayward lily that grows,
And yet thou shalt see,
My friend’s hand will take away his own,
Which was the pen which so many in thy bed;
The hand of mine hand is so strong, that it cannot be,
Which may yet help thee to do what thou wilt,
Or the hand of the man-eating knife which I will kill,
So I die a mortal death, a living one;
Who, as a fool, I have never done wrong,
Nor have I ever done wrong in my life;
Which I am, and do have, to make you mad;
For as a fool I will do that which I will not do,
And to make you happy do all that you desire,
And make all that your love desires make true,
Thou hast done true to me, to me thou art born,
To love, as thy worth is mine,
So do I love thee, and love thee to all my world.
When I have not yet seen thee I have not yet seen thee;
What’s worse than that I love thee with my eyes,
And hate with my tongue with my heart;
As the sun in my eye burneth;
Thy love shall make me die in my own love,
As thou shalt die to my love,
Thou art, and shall be, my friend’s love,
And shall see what a sad fool I am,
O, that thy life and my love were so alike,
And so many of my love’s true self could be,
And so many of mine, that none of them alone,
Were alive.
‘But now thou shalt show me the way,
Which I will not let thou go,
O, where have I been,
And where have I been, and why didst thou forsake me?
‘Thou art not dead to me;
Thou art dead to the fire,
I am not dead to thee;
And thou shalt be my death, and the world’s love,
So be it.
‘And yet the angel, whose eyes she seeeth my love,
Says, ‘How couldst thou so hate me,
When in truth thy self is no love,
And on thy self my self is no love,
‘And yet my self, for love, hath been made dead.’
‘But she adds, ‘But you are not to blame for my death,
‘But that which thou art guilty of thy deeds,
That I may tell you what I did wrong.
The first one is that which I made myself kill;
Then the other one is that which thou hast done wrong,
which I made my true self,
To kill as quickly as I should kill thee,
The one to kill so fast,
That I have not yet begun to say what I should kill.
‘And yet I think not, nor I say to thee,
‘Nor ever to thy majesty, nor to thy great boast.
‘I would not have this to thy glory;
‘But to thy majesty to my worth I would not weep;
‘Why, if thou, in all this, couldst not weep,
‘Since all thy woes were not thy shame?
‘To whom didst thou write this book?
‘Thy true self, thou art the light of all,
Who knows thy true self to be true,
But to thy true self thou art the sun,
And to thy true self thy sun is the moon,
In their eternal purity the whole,
But in their eternal purity their one,
And the others are the other,
The first being the true sun,
Then being the false moon,
And then being the true sun,
The false moon being the third,
The false sun being the first,
Which being the second thou dost make my day,
The third being the sun,
Which being the first thou dost make my night,
And the second being my night,
And therefore shalt thou be my self.’
So was the thought of this,
That on being made a devil,
Which thou art iniquitous and false,
Thou art a fool, and to me in so
All men think thou are guilty;
My self I will kill with this life,
And with this death thou shalt die,
Thou shalt be my friend’s friend.
‘But I fear for my own self now,
Since all other things which I love are
Made true by my love,
Thy self hath become a truth,
And every thing is made


======== CHECKPOINT 019 OUTPUT # 002 ========

institution

In other words, when an enemy enters,

Let it not be but to be able to destroy.

Thou shalt not let him depart,
And thou shalt not steal his breath.

For what you do, my dear boy, will be done;
So will the love of your love be lost,
If thy name were a saint;
When in her she is still, she shall be remembered
And when she die, she will be remembered
And she shall be remembered,
In death it was but fair to show.
But now, all that is mine, the good,
Of which thou hast begun to lose,
That which was not mine, dost thou dost destroy,
O my dear boy, how it must be
Who is the one, and the other thou dost steal,
Since to me all the rest is mine?
‘Tis true that thou love’s hand,
I’ll lend it to her, but thou wilt lend me nothing,
But nothing more.
And so the sun, which shines in me
Like a golden-tinted moon,
Is my fire burning up.
And what beauty do they not see
That I, for their sake,
For their love they might not do?
Or whether you love me more than you love me?
If it were that you might do me the honour,
Which honour you would gain from me,
Then I would not kill, but in my hand,
Whose power was no more in my hands.
“What a pity! where’s the poor girl?”
The queen, doting on her poor maid,
Who looks upon her sad face,
And frowns upon her fair bosom;
How is it that she should be so,
That she should be such an enchantress?
But this thou art in love, thou art so mad,
That thou art such a madman,
When thou didst live, didst love so much,
And now thou die, I will not die,
Since thou hast died but so by my being,
As I by my being did not give thee death.
“How canst thou dost make me happy?”
“Because thou art so, since my being,
Thou hast not done anything wrong to me,
Thou hast not done no wrong to me in my being,
Though for that my mind shall die,
My love shall live, my heart shall love thee.”
“Why hast I done this thing?”
‘Tis not that I should complain that I did it;
My reason shall know that this was not my fault;
But she that had not seen me,
Had not seen a thing of mine,
Nor even a thing she could have made
When she should have sworn, and to have sworn,
But by the decree of the Lord’s servant
That in spite of all thy being
Thou shouldst love me better than my good,
For in thy love I shall see what I cannot see,
My love is not mine alone:
My love is mine own; I am my love,
My love is all yours:
I am thy self and thee thou thy self,
As a thief is himself, and a thief is thy self.
Thou art no man, and thou art no true love;
And this, then, shall not seem lawful,
For thou art not an enemy of my love:
And this, then, shall not seem lawful,
For thou art no true love,
For thou art not the slave of the law,
Therefore shalt thou die as a slave,
That thou shalt not die as such a slave:
And this, then, shall not seem lawful,
For thou art not the slave of the law,
But thou art the slave of the law,
Thou art not my slave, thou art not mine,
And so, then, do not die in this false womb,
Thou wilt be, thyself, and to all eternity be.
And to this I will say:
This was the heart, this was my life,
But that it was not thy life
It should not have lived, in such a shape,
With a cloud that did stain my eyes,
Yet there it was; and yet there remained:
As if from thence it might behold,
O no more the wind, now that it hath come,
Or the sun, now that it hath come,
Or yet that it hath gone,
Since it would not have been dead now;
And now it would have been dead and would have died:
Yet what, then, canst thou live when I live?
When my husband dies? how canst thou live if my husband’s death
Shall stay? When my husband dies? how canst thou live


======== CHECKPOINT 019 OUTPUT # 003 ========

ridden’s wife; and having so much in hand I went;
To a large table to where he could sit his hand and hear,
As to take his seat and make him stop,
And lay him down by himself, and in his hand
She took his breath, and she with him
From his head, on a small glass.
“O no; thou art so full as to think
That thou art a fool, that thou dost think me so,
With the breath that in that I dost hold thee so,
Sinks in my eye the same shadow where I have sworn,
The thought which I in his mind must make,
That thou art a fool, that thou dost think me so,
Without any doubt; for mine eye doth see it all but a shadow.
The more I was thus, the more he seemed to feel;
That he in his eyes I felt himself,
And to this I think not at all;
“O, my mistress, it is so lovely!
In this lovely way thou,
Thy loving flower, where thou art in my love,
Is like a kind of jewel, in my love’s flower.
To this in a sweet state I am contented
To weep and lament in thy bosom.
No; for this thou art, in this lovely state
Behold the gentle love thou dost give,
That thy womb with thy womb’s tender womb
Wounds still her womb as she did,
Whose parts still remain still, so in the womb
As in the womb of the dead;
For all that remains, all that is, all this to thee.
‘For if thou were a lamb, she doth eat thy tongue,
As a lamb doth eat my tongue;
If thou were a lamb, she doth dine mine;
if thou were a lamb, she dine mine;
If thou were a lamb, she dine mine;
If thou were a lamb, she dine mine;
If thou were a lamb, she dine mine;
If thou were a lamb, she dine mine;
She gave him his tongue, but not her,
In what he did speak she gave him none:
If she would have, if she had, she would not have;
If she would have, if she did not, she would not have:
But if she did, she was not mine;
If thou didst give him his tongue, she gave him none.
To this he cries out, ‘Tis the most impiety,
To the most disgraceful, to the most defamatory,
to the least pleasing,
To the least pleasing in such a state,
As he did kiss her in his hand:
Thus with tears she falls, and then she is gone;
And now that she hath fled, she again takes up his hand.
‘For I see this picture, and yet the heart of me,
And yet it seems to me like a picture of a flower,
Like a bird, like a bat, like a feather,
like a dove, like a mouse,
And then in each he doth turn,
To behold the kind of love I desire,
When he was, and now is, and then is.
‘My wife, my dear, how do I love you so,
When I love you in my heart, in my heart’s love,
If thou couldst love me more, why should I not love thee more?
The heart loves those whom it finds,
But the heart loves those whom it finds none.
I have been taught many books, wherein this question is proved,
And I have read them, and seen how many,
With eyes which are full of my true desire,
The thought which, like a glass,
Which hath glassed the world in glass’s likeness,
Doth blot a blot on the ground.
What was the heart of a man when they were slain?
What did he fear, when the world fell?
What would he have wished had he not sought to know?
Who, the poet, was that he,
If not from this in my memory,
Then by my memory alone,
Was not my memory, mine will, mine will, mine will,
If the world shall die with the world, mine will die with thee:
If thou art my slave, thou shalt not kill me
Where I am by reason of my desire,
For by reason of thy desire, thou art my slave, and by reason of my desire
Will kill me where thou dost kill me.
And then would I be mad, when I were dead,
Which I did to love with such a passion,
By the force of my will and strength,
Thou shalt see why I will slay thee there.



======== CHECKPOINT 019 OUTPUT # 004 ========

pour a bath of fire in the morning.
And yet my maid was full of the love of thy sweet grace,
O thy gentle spirit.
But why should she be so gentle?
Why is the bath so high, where the water
Of love should drown out the hot springs?
If I have to use my hand, why not of mine?
Or what is it to thy lips if my lips should drown me?
The love of thy love must give thee no rest,
For I am no stranger than thy body that thy beauty hide,
Whose sweet smell was a thousandfold greater than thy words.
Whence then, how can I tell of thy love,
What is my love, but love is not all.
Yet, when my lips make the most use of it,
The heart is warmed with the water,
Which is warmed with his own sweet breath,
And this is his desire in the water:
Thus shall I in mine heart praise thee;
As though I were all your friend,
And yet you do not love me so as I love you.
As if from a tree I had seen my kind,
When, on this earth I am, I am not to see you,
My true self being so high as my heart:
So is thy beauty mineself,
And it shall be mine to see how thy self is to be.
‘Thus,’ quoth she, ‘let me go and find thee,
For from thence you may come and find me.’
For to come is to go, not to live:
This was a story he told of many a stranger.
For he did tell him his tale so well
That he might seem to be a prisoner,
And not only to tell his story but to steal.
‘For to say this,’ quoth he, ‘is not to say, that aught I do,
My life is thy life.’
And he did do not say so;
But still she doth she say, ‘If I am your love,
For that which is yours may be mine,
that your love may mine may be mine;
In truth I have your love as my love,
And I love you as your love,
But when I die, and nothing you have,
You must live with your love to this day.’
‘Thus is my love,’ quoth she, ‘I will live with thee,
To you the true lover, I will live with thee.’
If she were so fair, as her husband,
She could tell his story, and yet not live with him.
‘”So, my dear friend,” quoth she, “I have thought it necessary
To write thee again, my dear friend, and tell thee again.
‘For so, this is a tale of many a stranger,’ quoth she, “
To find my dear friend, and bring him to me;
And with him that should be the guest,
Then we may lie in our bed and do his part;
And he should say, that the truth is mine, and that I am yours:
I should in my life do what thou art,
And in thy love make it thy part.”
‘How then can I make it mine?’ quoth she, ‘My true self being so high as my heart?
As if it had not been mine, what part of mine was yours?
No doubt I had your love and your sweet heart:
This life you had, and still you did.
The more thou dost do this, thou shalt betray
all thy true self, and all thy self shall betray
Thy love’s love: thou shalt be in me, in thy true self.
‘My dear friends, then, be it with me,
Or with my true self, in thy self.
‘But I swear to thee, ’tis thy love, and that in me is:
My true self is thy love, and not my true self.
‘What a sweet thing is this? What a sweet deed? What a sweet action!
‘If thy love should not live,
Let mine eyes bleed for it, and your tongue drowns.
Why then, this is a tale of many a stranger?’ quoth she, ‘if I be thy love,
That which is yours may be mine, and not mine;
Then I live with thee, and not thee,
But when thou dost kill a fool, and my true love drowns me:
Then do thy true self live, and thou art thy true self,
And this I am, and this is thy true self,
And this is thy true self, and not thy true self.
‘”And then will I show thee thy true self,
As I did in your time, that you may see me,
The truth as far as it may prove
The


======== CHECKPOINT 019 OUTPUT # 005 ========

submer a black cloak, a black eye and a black head. He stood, and his visage darted downward; for she saw him go on his back, and forth upon his back.
‘”But I shall not kill thee,’ she said, ‘For that I love thee best.’
“And yet he, her fair husband, said, ‘How did I come to your place, when I am the first to take thee, or leave thee? I do not care now what thy name is, but what my heart is, and where it is.’
‘O, then thy husband,’ quoth she, ‘you are my husband.’
‘”So shall I not love thee,
As a slave to my heart and body to your will.”
“So shall you, my mistress,” quoth he, “but let me not say so, for in my sight thou art the master of mine will,
And, seeing thee in haste, I will make thee my slave,
The slave of mine will not, nor I thee thee:
For to make thee my slave, I should do all that thou didst make my will.
Thou art thy slave, thy worth to me;
Whose worth I will be, thy treasure to me;
And, where thy treasure lies, to my use,
Which I will give to your will, thou hast kept it.
“Then say I my will to thee, that by the aid of my love,
Or by the love of my love shall thou obtain,
As a king, as the queen of the gods,
Which is the queen of the gods,
And so thou art the king of my will.
But, behold, this will, which I do intend,
But, since this will is not a gift,
That is my will and will and will not,
For this I am a king, to keep thee from wrong.
Then shall I say, ‘For this thou art a king,’
And thou shalt say, ‘And then for this thou art my will.’
“When she is done, the wind blows and the stars appear,
And, as a whirlwind, they fly straight;
That from his bosom, like a wingless dove,
Whose feathers are spread by the wind;
And his head doth hover, like an eagle,
Though to his backward it flies, yet in the centre
He is a cloudless cloud;
And hence there lies to me a heaven,
that my spirit shall dwell, and my sight shall see.
‘And thus my will, that for all my good,
A king will seem my master.
But his will may be said, ‘No,’ quoth she,’my will,’
Even as I say to thee, ‘No,’ quoth he,’my will,’
And still shall he never say, ‘My will,’
Nor ‘My will,’ quoth she, ‘no,’
Nor ‘My will,’ quoth he, ‘No,’
Nor ‘My will,’ quoth she, ‘no,’
nor ‘My will,’ quoth she, ‘no,’
‘To whom I shall be entombed, and then, and then, and then.’
For all time he has gone, the earth, which was before he doth rise
O’er his bosom, from the ground to where he lies,
Lifts him up in a gilded chamber, where a woman
Pluck’d in the ground, and in his hand
A golden torch which shines with his breath,
She with one hand lifts him up, and she with her other
Gives him his hand, and then he shakes it, and then the torch falls on him,
Her face being white, his lips white,
She smilingly bears him up, and he is like unto a bird,
And she with both her hands her eyes doth look upon his face,
And with those cheeks he may breathe his sighs,
And with his hands he takes his oaths,
And so with a sweet breath she calls,
‘He is my queen, my queen!’
“My will is the foundation of my true will,” quoth she, “I did this, and I will keep it;
Nor shall I forget it, for thou shalt be mine,
When I will be thy love, and thou shalt remain mine.
Then, in thy presence, with his arms folded,
She leaps in joy, and bids him lie still,
And his lips turn white, and his cheeks be pale.
O, what a beauty it is!
Her lips in his kiss have sweet cheeks,
He drinks her cheeks; his face is full of beauty;
And so she goes forth with his face; her chin is full of beauty;
‘No!’ quoth she,’my will will is not mine.’
‘”Therefore


======== CHECKPOINT 020 OUTPUT # 001 ========

Lev to his bosom was he buried;
For the night was gone on, and there was no light
Upon the stone like a stone,
And all the morning the sun was shining,
For ever after he was dead did he wail,
But tomorrow he would not be again.
‘Tis true, if thou art dead, thou art not dead,
Or else, if thou live, what dost thou die?
The answer is, she looks back with the cold,
Or with all the more pity;
To whom she replies, “She is dead, but still she holds my heart,
And gives her pleasure to have died,
The time I should have lived is gone.”
‘”But how was she? how was she not buried?”
I do not love you more, my love is dead,
Even now in this chamber where he rests,
And in his own tomb where his blood sits.
When then the tomb is empty, he looks with astonishment,
And says to the stranger, “Hear, hear, this dreadful night!
O, my sweet girl, how dost thou hast done this,
Thy love hath made thyself, and thou wast never a child?
And what shall thy grief be for me?”
“For I have done, for thou art the child.”
“And you too, for thou art that,
Thy name, thy self’s, my self’s, all have done,
And that which thou hast done, thou didst not give.”
Then she answers, and she says, “O, that thou art, or that I am,
That this thou didst do, that I may be here,
Thy self’s own, my self’s, all had done.
O, that thou art, or that I am,
That this thou didst do, that I may be here,
Thy self’s self’s own, my self’s, all had done.
So that all the living, all the dying, all the doth show,
And every living thing that hath been, shall prove,
The life of all living, all the dead, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the dead, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all the living, all


======== CHECKPOINT 020 OUTPUT # 002 ========

awakening for this end.
She was dead before I had seen her alive; and it shall not be said of her that she did not live,
And still more so than when she did,
For she is dead now and then, for her parts are now dead.
‘O,’ quoth she, ‘how late for you I have sworn,
As soon as you have sworn it was all wrong,
That my eyes with the same colour were seen by,
Which, when I saw them, as soon as they came,
I saw not your true eyes but your false eyes,
Who are like all my eyes with their full,
As well as they are with your false,
Which all false eyes see through you and do not have
As you do in love.
“Now, for my part, I say unto thee,
That thy love hath in thy bosom,
When thou lookest at me, I have a hand in it,
And as thou knowest how strong thy hand is
O my servant, how shall I break from my grip,
If thou canst not show me thy love!
‘”And now she looks at him, as he is,
He seems so pale, so pale, and he,
Which, when he looks at her, as if it were him,
But looks upon her with a frown,
Or with a frown, or with a frown,
When he looks upon her, as if she were him;
When he looks upon her with a grin,
Or with a smile, or a smile,
When he looks upon her in a wail,
Or in a wail, or a wail,
He looks upon her, and then, looking upon her again,
His eyes are like water in the summer’s water,
That by this they flow forth forth the tide,
And when the water hath dried up their contents,
The air is like the river that feeds it,
Like streams, rivers running on their own,
And all the sea like a stream that doth stop.
“O! what was the reason of these two,
For you did not make up your mind
To take a vow with my soul’s blood,
That I should live for thee.
‘Ay,’ quoth she, ‘do that which I wish thee well,
Even as thou gav’st on thy cheek;
As thou gav’st on my cheek, I wag on thee.
“The fair sun is not to shine in this heaven,
The fair sun in his place is to wink in his face,
And the fair sun in his place is to show off his beauty.
“O!” quoth she, “there is no fair sun to shine,
That doth not shine in your cheeks;
As fair as fair as fair-smelling flowers,
Or flowers as fair as roses,
And weeds as fair as weeds are.
“Look on this lovely woman in thy hand,
And behold her face doth smile,
And at her brow there is a frown,
And frowns, and groans, and sighs.
“I have no part in thee,
For if any of you had part of me,
Or any part of you gave me thy life,
My life should not be spent in vain,
To do all in vain, to spend my life in that which thou dost spend;
That which thou hast dost spend, thy self be spent;
And not thy self to spend the self;
For mine own self and mine own self,
Would be my self, and mine own self to spend,
My own self and mine own self be spent,
And my self and mine own self to spend,
The self spent and mine own self spent,
The self spent and mine self spent be spent,
the self spent and mine self spent be spent,
And the self spent and mine self spent be spent,
I have no part in thee,
And if any of thee had any part of me,
My self should not have the self spent;
But I have nothing of thee but thy self,
To put my self to that of your self.
“My self is dead,” quoth she;
And as she was, her face was like a fire,
And her tongue sheft’d her lips,
And thereupon she spoke again.
“Then where is my self, my self?” quoth she,
“O, thou art dead, my self is dead;
The self that gave me thee to dwell
Where thy self spent, was dead, and thee is dead.
Then thou didst make of me not a dove,
But I would live and sing as thou didst die,
As thou made me alive, and I live, and I live, and thou live;


======== CHECKPOINT 020 OUTPUT # 003 ========

police-man.
A picture was brought to me of the white-haired maid whose countenance was in an uproar,
And by this she gave me a look which did me see her;
And when she gave this, she began, ‘I will show thee my face.’
“I’ll tell thee thy name,’ quoth she, ‘And you will be mine;
And, like a king’s slave, I’ll do thy will,
So shalt thou do not steal my heart.’
The doting queen, quoth she, ‘And yet, in my love, thou shalt kill.’
But her face doth blush; for what reason do I have to answer
her, ‘Thou art, by my will, but in a desperate desire?’
Or, ‘And yet, by my will, thou shalt kill me?’
Or, ‘And yet, by my will, thou shalt kill me?
Nor, ‘But, thou shalt not kill, I will slay thee,’
Nor, ‘But thy will will, I will kill thee,
That hath no place in me, nor in thee:
That hath no place in me, nor in thee,
That hath no love and no friend.’
And then her hand is, and her lips are,
And her lips do her utmost:
Then let not a sound be done, that might be quiet.
Yet he whose eyes the light doth see,
Who is still, and hath a kind eye,
Can see me; but what kind of eye doth look,
How many kinds do I see?
So you, who are full of the worst kind,
Which with my eyes are set for your own sake,
Which with my eyes you doth dost desire,
But when your eyes have seen the poor-feeling eye,
And woe upon those eyes that in your eyes
Are still that which makes you wail,
As it is said, ‘Woe wherefore, this thou art.’
That I did the duty, and made him look;
To him in his affections stood weeping,
Which, like him weeping, doth turn
Thy cheek, like the fair eye of the dove,
Would like a knife in his knife’s hand;
And thus he doth put it in his lips;
And then they both writhe, and kiss the wounds,
The dead shall not kill them, but shall be slain,
By the foul and gross abuse which I will bring thee:
‘O wherefore dost thou weep, for thou art guilty?
That which thou art guilty of, hath a foul name,
Who on the part of this maiden is imprisoned,
That on his part will make him suffer the more;
In one way thou dost plead thy guilt,
And on the other thy guilty plea,
The guilty that this guilty wert, and this he will bear.
For what I say doth I say, and what I say I do,
I intend not to know, yet to know me;
I wish not to know, but the other is what I say
That doth my thoughts best deceive me;
And what doth my thought best deceive me?
Thus with my will he looks, and as he will do,
The other wert, and as he will do,
the other will do what he will not do.
“My tongue is a sweet instrument,
Which, from the bottom of my mouth,
Till it hath begun a sound,
When a wail grows loud; or when a strong heart
Strikes fear in my ear,
That in my body doth I tremble.
‘Now thus saith she,’ quoth she, ‘I have some thoughts,
That you have but that I have,
For you that have seen the face of a dove,
Mine eyes have heard thy name, thy deed is done;
And this thy thought in my thoughts hath,
Is done, and in mine is done.
O now, as I think the truth, I feel the truth,
That, on that I can lie, my heart shall not die;
Nor shall there be a body to bear me,
That you can be dead in this world,
In this world no eye, no ear can hear me;
No eye to see how I am laid,
No eye to hear how I cry,
To see how I look my beauty is done;
To see how I make love, but for my love
No eye is ever more well known,
Nor eye to behold what I am to make;
When in the bosom of my love
The cold of my heart quenches my desire,
Or when my heart quenches mine, my heart dies.
‘So, this is a truth of such truth,
That you should not think


======== CHECKPOINT 020 OUTPUT # 004 ========

Heidi,
O’er the bosom of all,
The bosom that sleeps in her bosom,
If thou wilt stay with her, thou wilt not rest
with her,
But with her thy spirit be kept together:
Love began me, I would not lose,
And that thy soul’s love might live,
To have thy soul’s love with thee.
‘’O, thou wilt not kill me,
but for thy self I must be free:
To stay thou with me, in mine self thou shalt stay:
And in mine self thou shalt remain,
Love shall dwell in me, and nothing else in me.
‘”Therefore, you see, I will die,
Because you are not strong enough to carry me out.”
Then she takes him by the hand,
And he, with his chin, and all his grace,
Whereat his tongue drops upon his breast,
And he grieves and cries:
‘‘O, what a sad story!
‘Her eyes make up their glass and set,
And from their glass she takes another view;
In her lovely eye she hears,
her lovely face she sees,
That she might see her beloved’s face;
She, who saw, now, but still in that state,
And now she sees me so,
That she still cannot see me alone,
For she knows her name by thy name:
She still knows that thou dost deceive me,
And that thou dost tell me so.
‘Tis a story of beauty;
Then the poet replies: ‘O my heart’s content!
For with thee the heart is no more!
‘But in that place wherein thou gazest,
Truly, thou art as that of some one;
That thou art the true painter, not of my painter;
And thus in this my painter’s image
I find myself, and behold the sweet sweet smell of thy roses.
“O, my beauty is of my being
Of my having done my fair good,
To whom thou hast made so many gifts;
And so, on my own side in love’s honour
I owe you my love, and to thee to have.
Love is but a partaker of death’s parts:
That with this, he doth make a ransom,
And to be revenged of my love,
Which by his deed he shall lose,
The deed will be done, the ransom is paid:
I will be thy thief, and thee my queen.
‘”So as she, seeing him, calls out to him,
The sweet thief being brought away,
Who, being with him, doth leap and run,
And, at their head, with the knife being ready,
So in his right hand the knife’s knife doth hang;
The knife doth shoot in his left hand,
And on his right hand doth make a blow.
When, with love, the thief takes possession,
He runs, and the knife doth shoot,
And in the knife’s hand doth hang his head.
Now this my dear friend, who is this,
A thief whose theft doth rob him of his sight,
And he is a thief’s treasure, a traitor of his will?
When I began to be a lover,
A thief with whom I love so deeply,
Thou shalt love all that thyself doth covet.
But if thou desire not to see me,
For ever I love you, and will not hold you.
‘O, I will never make thee mine own.
‘Let me go and see that I have been wrong;
That thou so, my poor daughter,
My mother’s son, and heir to my death!
The eyes of my mother and my father are fixed,
Their eyes will not be blinded with tears;
That the tears of the eye’s eye doth not wail;
The eye’s eye doth wail and wail, and wail and wail!
The sun doth not dine in the night,
The moon doth not be in the day,
The star doth not be in the night,
And the sun doth not shine in the night.
O, my love, my heart, and my life
Do not live in one single thing,
Love, and thy love, thy love’s love, thy love’s love, thy love’s love
Have none, but one, in one little thing,
One, in one large thing,
Each thing having two parts, one being
One and one being, to be in two parts,
Being one in one, and being two in two,
Being one in one, and two in two.
‘Tis true, my love, and


======== CHECKPOINT 020 OUTPUT # 005 ========

object;

if (! this )

m = true ;

if ( this )

return false ;

}

if ( g. length >= 0 )

m = g. length ;

if ( this )

m += this ;

}

if ( dst. is_numeric ( this ) && this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! m || this!= p )

m += dst ;

if ( this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! m && this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if ( this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if ( this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if ( this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if ( this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if ( this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if ( this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if ( this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;

if ( this!= p )

m += dst ;

if (! this!= p )

m += dst ;


======== CHECKPOINT 021 OUTPUT # 001 ========

pleasantly so.
“And now let me to thee bequeath the gift of all your love, and to this I shall show it in a thousand proofs, and for your good pleasure, I will not say you were with her, but were.
For my sake I beg your pardon that you did see my face this morning, and I am so kind as well I can express it, I have not felt myself affected with jealousy, but love is the cause of mine self-love, and mine love is yours, and not mine, for I love you not, nor yours;
And though I am no love to you, yet mine is your love, and to my self love as well as yours do in you do in me.
“This love being my husband, I make thee this present, and in my own accord thou givest it to me,
A thousand kisses, two thousand kisses, two thousand kisses, twenty-two thousand kisses, twenty-three thousand kisses, twenty-four thousand kisses, twenty-one thousand kisses;
Then on thy fair breast I place my love upon thy chest, and that I put on thou his breast,
Then on his thigh my desire takes my love and confounds me.
And from that breast the sun doth make her golden hair dusky,
And my face blushes as I behold her beauty,
That on my cheeks thou shalt see it not in my heart,
But with that cheek and on my chin thou shalt see that it is not in my heart.
“For this was my duty as queen of that dear sweet place,
And by that she was gone.
O I, your love, that my love should be loved is in thee
That thou my love did give my life,
That thy life did give me your life,
And thy death gave me my life.
‘I am a beggar, and in my sight are all rich thieves:
But to him thou shalt have my treasure,
Which thou shalt sell to him on my pay.
“For now let me say that this is the sweet name of this sweet man,
He that takes it, it shall be mine, and I shall give it to thee:
‘And with this, he that takes it shall not be gone.’
“And thus thou didst hear my voice,
And when he came, his face as white as straw,
Which doth the sky see on the west.
‘So when thou wilt, and my word do break,
I am with thee, and with thee the world shall be saved,
For in this thou hast been my self, this me am thy self,
I am not myself, nor do I belong to thee.
But here I am again, and again I am dead,
And my body that I gave thee was dead again;
But I did so, and by that thou didst live,
My life’s self is living again.
The earth hath seen thee before, and now her night is fading,
In the night of her night,
And by that night all her beauty that thou art,
My life’s self is dying.
‘For this didst thou kill my life, thou my life was dead;
For this didst thou kill my life, thy life was dead;
Then all that thou didst not kill, thy life was dead,
And this was not my death but thy death.
“And thus in her night came she forth, and to see her,
She would not be able to bear to lie still
In the dim chamber she had set up,
Nor would she fear the sun that would not show her her her sight.
So she wert in bed, and her handmaid took him by the hand
To the bosom of her bed, and by that kiss
She wert, on him, and not a word on him she said,
‘If I do love thee, I will do so.’
‘But,’ quoth she, ‘if thou wilt do me wrong, then thou art my son,
And as it is written, ‘he that is of thee that bequeathed the deed,
Whereon I shall abide by him that I kill,
O what crime is committed by him that commits a wrong!
Yet thou that dost live, and shalt not die,
I trust in thee, thou shalt be my god and eternal life;
Thy will be my will and my glory, and my glory thy will.
Thus in his wake he was slain, and as his will his life was slain,
When he was come again, it was still to be revenged:
But when he came back, it was still to be revenged again,
And when he came back again, it was still to be revenged again,
And now that he was gone, he stood on his head, and with him


======== CHECKPOINT 021 OUTPUT # 002 ========

rolling-off-of-it-I-am
His face he laid down on her chin,
And gave her her a kiss that did not yield
So did his cheeky lips.
‘”But thou, in spite of me, are the best
A loving friend of mine.
Thou art my self, my self is my love.’
‘Why didst thou steal that jewel?—my wife!
Thou didst steal that jewel, and yet I did steal it
So did I steal that jewel, and yet I did steal it again
As thou hast done, that thou wast not mine:
Thou art mine, thyself is mine;
So is this crystal beauty, that, for me, it sits
Upon thee, and is to mine.
‘So was my love when thou art dead, and now it is
The last I have, as if thou art mine;
Or as thou, as thou shalt see, now it is thy death,
I say I am gone, for that thou art dead;
For the light of thy eye hath made my eyes dark;
Nor have I made my eyes any brighter
than thou now, that thou art my shadow;
For when I was a mortal, I was a mortal;
Therefore why should I lie still to live?
For my true self, though I be dead, I can live;
Yet thou hast buried me in thy storehouse,
And have told me to wait, and never to return;
When thou art dead I shall be, and now thou art dead,
That hath left me what thou art, now wherefore shalt thou go?
“No, thou art no more, I cannot see you,
And thou cannot see me, I cannot see thee;
Look, I did not want to find you, I did not want to make thee
A friend, I did not want to find you, I did not want to make thee,
When thou art dead, that thou art mine, that thou art mine:
So I did not see you, and there you lie,
Till then I saw you, for I did see thee,
For that I did see thee, and now thou art dead,
So shall I return, and therefore my true self shall live
In a place which I shall no longer stay,
Nor shall any more bequeath thee.
That I may not die, but that thou live my love shall live
For ever.”
“Then you did not tell me this tale,
that I should be so happy as you were,
And thou, therefore, were my husband, and my lover:
As my love’s husband was dead, so mine was alive;
But that he died by me, my life was dead.
She doth say that my love never did give birth
To my life, as thou didst give birth to mine.
‘Then why didst thou stay there, that didst thou not live?
‘Thy love’s death, his death alone doth make.
‘And now why didst thou leave me where thou didst lie,
O no one, but his father and his mother,
Was buried in a tomb so wide,
That, if thou wouldst be buried, I would not be alive.’
“O false slander! this thing thou havest said!
That thou wouldst not know
When thou were one of the world’s most fair
Of all, the earth’s fair, the world’s best,
But to me was the most fair, the world’s most fair.
When a flower grows, and to that flower
Thy flower grew thee, the one thy flower doth
grow.
And why didst thou dote on him, and sought him,
To obtain a gift that he had granted,
For love, that I thought was worth living,
O true jewel, I would not do thee dishonour,
But you, who, being your love, must be.
‘O, thou thief of the fairest jewels,
And this I was for, if thou didst steal.
‘Thou art my thief, my thief is my thief;
For thou art the thief, the thief was my friend;
Thou art thy friend, the thief was my friend;
And the fairest jewels that belong to me belong
To thee, I desire no other name,
For mine dear heart is so strong as to bear thee.
‘Hast thou sought for thy self,
To steal, or to live?
‘Thou art, then, the thief.’
“Why didst thou take this vow, that thou mightst live?
What do I mean, thou dost betray me,
Even if I did give you a kiss?
And why didst thou not swear, and yet not kill me?
What


======== CHECKPOINT 021 OUTPUT # 003 ========

considers what is so dear to me, what I am not, what is not.”
“But love is your love, and not your dear friend,” quoth he. “And therefore I am with you.”
“Do not fear me,” quoth she, “although I do so say. Let not thy voice break mine heart, for thy life is mine; but let none of my love steal it away: my love should never live, but thy heart should be my love.”
“So you do,” quoth she, “my heart is mine, and I will never steal thee, if thou dost die with me.”
“Now be a proud man,” quoth she, “have a heart, and a husband, and a son to call a son, and then let them live on.”
Then she says, “And I have heard you tell me it will be a day’s rest, and in the hours spent in this poor little thing, one thing might gain me: but the thought will not be so: all I want is to live.”
“The thought, my dear mistress,” quoth she, “will not be so, since love is such a thing that it is kept in mind, or, as you say, kept from thought.
If it should be so, why should it stay in my mind, and so am I, my love being thought a thing in me?
‘My love being thought a thing in me, and so being thought a thing in thee, so my love being thought a thing in thee?
Then I may live, that my love may live; if I live, my love cannot live;
if I live, mine love cannot live; and when that is done, I die.
So you love me, and me do not love thee;
My love is not mine, nor thy love is mine;
But thou art my love, and thou art thy love,
Since thou art mine, my love is thy love,
But my love is thy love, my love is my love,
And then I love thee.”
So she says, “Yet thou art my love, and thine am my love,
Because thou art my love, and thine am mine,
Thou art my love, thy love is mine, thy love is mine.
Then, this love, that thou art mine, is in me,
That this love, this love, which thou art mine, I love thee,
Thy love, thy love, thy love, thy love, my love!
And then love will not live, nor mine eyes, nor my ear,
Yet love in mine eye, and in thy ear,
Thy love, thy love, thy love, thy love’s part
Is love in me, and in thee.
Then love dies, and to me it did stay;
And now, like unto thy poor love, and like to thy own,
Thy love dies, and to me it did stay:
My love is not alive, but I have no life,
The love of this dead thing, is dead, and this dead thing
Is dead.
And still it doth not live, but I in this state do
live and live, and my love is dead,
And for this love I do not live;
For that love, which now in thee die,
This love now lives, my love is dead,
And for this love I am dead.
O love, how shall I live, and how will I die?
And if thou art my love, and thou art my love,
I shall live, and thou art my love,
Then thou art my love, and thine art my love,
And this in thy self thou art my love:
When thou art mine, thou art my love;
And my love is to me my love:
But for thy love’s sake I may live, and my love live,
And thou art mine, and thou art my love;
But for my love’s sake I may live, and thy love live;
Thy love is my love, thy love is mine, thy love my love:
And this in thy self thou art my love,
And thy love is mine, thy love my love:
And thus do I live, and thou art mine, and thy love live:
The love of thee is thy life, and thy love’s life is mine:
And thus do I live, and thou art mine, and thy love live:
And thus do I live, and thou art mine:
“Now it is a sin to be unwise,
And yet thou shalt see that it is good;
And the one who hath sinned, and the other with him,
He shall make no excuse for thee.”
‘But,’ quoth she, ‘he hath sinned and in thee
Thy heart


======== CHECKPOINT 021 OUTPUT # 004 ========

bon to a place so sacred,
And so honoured: ‘Twixt this place, the world, and this place,
Who in her tender youth, is the same,
To say, “She is my dear friend;”
Whose heart she doth hold in her love,
And whose lips she opens shall remain,
Which she hath in them for her part:
‘Tis as though some stranger were to call her my dear friend,
So sweet and loving was this daughter of mine.
“And it is this to be taught
With my poor tongue that they must say what they mean:
‘Thou art in love with thine,
And in love with thine, to say ‘it is I’ is better.
‘But I have taught thee, and thou thy self
I have taught them how to say that which thou dost desire.
I have taught them that art thou art thyself
For my desire is thy self; I am thy self,
For my love is thy self, and my love is mine.”
—That, therefore, with thy tongue,
He is her beauty, and I as thy grace,
When thy own beauty be his subject;
And now, what thou lov’d with thine eye,
My own beauty be thy self, for thy beauty’s worth:
So may thy self remain mine as thou art mine.
“Thou art mine, my dear one; why shallst thou be my servant?
I have thee my own, and thou my own;
I have thee my servant, my self thy friend.
‘But since thou art mine,’ quoth she, ‘through my love,
I make thee my slave, and I take thy self
To be my slave again, and as thou art mine:
And now thou shalt not do this: for my love makes thee my slave,
But thou art mine, my self, and I as thy self.’
And since thou art mine, my self, and I as thy self
As mine own, thou art mine, and I as thy self.’—
And since thou art mine, my self, and I as thy self
My own, my self, and I as thy self;
For behold this, thy beauty is mine, and mine as thy self;
For behold this, my beauty is mine, and mine as thy self;
Therefore, when thou art mine, thou art mine.”—
This being done, she did pause,
She then, and the other men went.
The woman did not show her face; she did stand there,
And look upon the stars, and upon all the heaven;
The place where she stood and she did say,
“Lo, if thou dost love me,
Let love alone be thy end: I know not why I should go,
I love thee for thy sake and for thy sake’s sake,
But as if thou art love, let mine be mine, and do my best.”
But they did not seem to think this verse so.
‘Love for love is not, that it may make me happier;
For love, then, is not in such a world as
That, in heaven and on earth, men seem to be happier;
‘But if not, then be not so,’ quoth she.
“And to me your beauty, thy grace, thy reason,
And all thy life-kindness, your reason for good;
And this, then, is thy part in my love’s life;
For my love, my love is your part, and I thy part,
And thou, my self’s self’s self, my self’s self’s self,
All in all, my self’s self and all thy self,
And thy self, thy self, my self and all thy self,
What thou doest make me happy, this is thy part.”—
“My love is thee, my love is thee,
And thy self, my self and all thy self.”
“Thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self,
All in all, my self and all thy self,
Thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self,
Thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self,


======== CHECKPOINT 021 OUTPUT # 005 ========

ascript on the ground;
His heart was sweet as sweet as his liver,
Which yet did grow cold with sweat and cold as when frozen.
O, what wrong shall I have in my soul!
By that which I do give this to your image,
I can boast, yet you did make me lie;
Mine face is like thee to your liking,
For though I am thy father’s beauty, yet thou mine;
And thy shame, which I made in thee;
Had it not, I may not live to see thee,
So should I never in my life live to see thee,
Unless the very day I die,
That thou and me may live in love,
I will never die to see thee,
nor my father’s name nor my name’s name.
Her father was a Roman; she was a slave;
And the Romans were like a king of Troy.
“Well, dear boy,” quoth she, “I am old, and I must live,
That my love and my life’s purpose is,
To write your love in my mind.
When then, my dear mistress, I am so busy,
My love hath begun to leave,
But in the day I do come to know,
It seems to me I shall lose my beauty,
To make her sad, to be despised.
For all those poor things which I have,
My love, my love to love,
Thou art my sweetest, thy sweetest, and thy most holy.
O, then I am weary, and I have no more
To entertain myself, and in my heart
As in the night have my sweet heart.
To him I show my love, my love to be,
To him it seemeth he is gone,
To where I cannot hear him, and in his silence
He shakes his hand, and speaks with gentle voices.
But if I not speak, it must seem to me
I have been sent out of my youth to be;
No one I love, but mine own soul
Holds me so unwell as the maid with the maid;
Her cheeks are full of tears and frowns,
And when her beauty should seem to fade,
The beauty in her eyes will be more than ever gone.
“If love were such a thing,
What beauty is there in a woman’s eye?
Which eye do I see, what kind of eye do I see,
Look that my hand, my neck, and my back,
And think, ‘Thy love’s that of mine that was mine,
Thy love that of mine that is mine will live,
Thy love that of mine that is mine will die,
Thy love that is mine will stay,
And that which is mine will live long.’
O thou poor fool, my dear friend,
For thou dost see thy love lose;
For thou dost hear thy love dead,
That thou dost not be heard of all those who speak,
Even so that thou alone, a friend,
Thy heart doth know what hath done is done,
And I with thee alone, thou alone,
My thoughts are not thy thoughts, but my heart
O, my thoughts were thy thoughts, but mine own thoughts:
Whilst they are mine, they are thy thoughts;
Whose thoughts are mine, their thoughts thou knowest,
And their thoughts, their thoughts, do the rest,
But as they, I as thou wilt say,
are thy thoughts, but mine own thoughts.’
The night-blind, and the unseeing eye,
Gazetted in the fire,
Shining on the sun and moon,
In the sky and the ground,
Shining on the hills, and in the earth;
And thus I find all that makes my sight
The true image of my soul,
That is not my body but that of another,
And if I should be a living thing,
Whilst my body were alive, my body, now dead,
For ever, for ever I will live.
‘Thou wilt see me, and I will see thee,’ quoth she,
‘Why wouldst thou wilt, wherefore shouldst thou not see me?
And if thou wilt see me, why shouldst thou not see me?
O, for shame, let no one hold me so dear!
For shame, let no one hold me so dear!
For shame, let no one hold me so dear!
For shame, let no one hold me so dear!
For shame, let no one hold me so dear!
For shame, let no one hold me so dear!
For shame, let no one hold me so dear!
For shame, let no one hold me so dear!
For shame, let no one hold


======== CHECKPOINT 022 OUTPUT # 001 ========

Harrison with his hand,
And he threw it down, and the boar’s gait drew
From his head the door-way, and then he came
To kill it with the bluntest of hooks,
But by force he tore it off, as fast as he could catch
his prey’s eye.
‘When this,’ quoth she, ‘can a man survive in such
Unbeaten lust?’
‘No,’ quoth she, ‘I did it not, but by your hand.
Since I have been in your bed, and to this you,
That I am, I do not fear you.
Yet if, if I did be in the place,
Would not the bed be yours in love,
Or the bed you may live in, to make the night better?
For there is no love in this,
To the thing that is, and the thing that is not.
As far as you are, as far as my thoughts are,
When thou art, so long do I live,
That, being dead, thou willst ever live,
And never die, as thou livest in my name;
So long be I in thy life,
To make thee live so, then, for this I will do,
And the day after thy death will prove
How much more than this my life can bear.
The moment is not of this that doth remain
Of those in thy hand, or in your breast,
That will stop me now, and make my life end.
As thou livest, so live I, that life,
If thou livest, so be it, that life,
And life of me to live, is nothing else;
If thou live, so be it, and live I not,
So be it, and live I not:
As thou livest, so be it, and live I not:
But if thou live, so be it, and live I not.
‘Now do not look on this matter so gravely;
For as this is such a matter, and as this my life hath been,
To this I have told it all, and no one can prove.
“But I do not care where it lies;
To whom it belongs, if it stay, I shall show it;
To the men I like, or to my neighbours,
Or to myself, but no one knows where it lies;
If this, then the men I like shall find out,
Who is to blame, whether he be from thee or thy side?
Or if that he be, for I am, thou dost know.
In thy place the night, and in her bosom
Wherefore did I, the maid, give such a bed,
That I shall love my sweet love’s self,
For she would not weep with shame, nor with pride,
When I saw the way of the sun and the moon;
She forsworn, and by him she gave a kiss,
And her lips, not his, did tremble for his sake.
O dear, for the night, I love thee now,
To keep thee from me again;
But if thou know not the night, what shouldst thou love?
In all these I must tell
what I love in this, that is in you.
“And as thou dost love nothing else,
My poor Lucrece, in my grief and rage
Doth weep and be afraid of the thought of thee.
“But this he that thou dost have beheld
My ill-doing, and with it it thy self,
In his poor body and self in my mind:
Then shall I think to tell thee the love of thy life,
O mine self, how it was not that thou wilt live,
And so shalt thou die to thy self,
To have thy self for ever to tell me thy name,
What thou wilt do to me, who didst make me,
The painter did make me, but that, to whom my art now lies.
“O my friends, dear friends of mine,
Even so, what an eye to behold
Which in thy bosom, and on the breast
Than in thy bosom my breast doth appear,
Shall thou behold what my bosom hath done.
Now this thy mind, which is in me,
Lest it doth perceive thy name,
That I should seem so proud,
Which, if it did not look at my face,
Hast thou not to behold what thou dost see?
Now this thy mind, which is in me,
Shall thou behold what my mind doth see?
So this thy mind, which is in me,
Leaves all this to be told, to make a vow,
Or, as it was thought to act, do it again,


======== CHECKPOINT 022 OUTPUT # 002 ========

sket in my heart.
“How can I, thou art my mistress, thy beauty, thy art, thy beauty,
And that thou art mine, thou art not me.”
“O, then I am the one, whose image shall remain,
That doth not lie but doth it in thy head,
And in her breast doth it sit;
And, with the thought that her thought doth lie
Under my eye shall dwell,
I believe thy image to be mine;
But shall not he me, that in thy heart,
With my heart thy thought shall dwell.
I was a slave of my own heart, and in that I owe
So much, I owe it not to myself;
That thou art mine and not me,
Which I, thou art mine, and not me,
And with thine own self shall I have made me.
He looks upon me with disdain, and my brow
O’erthinks her to kiss his cheek,
Who, despite the thought, shakes his hand;
Thy lips will not yield, as it were,
Or hold him for the breach will they not yield.
I should have told you so; you do not fear me,
And I do not dread you;
If I die before you, I’ll go and die a day.
‘In spite of thee, I must not do anything to thy eye,
Which hath doth every eye see and hears thee;
No, thou art my lover, and I myself have thee,
And with thee, if thou do believe in my love,
Thy power, as thou art, shall conquer and conquer mine,
Which makes my love greater than mine alone;
This power that thou art, though thy love doth make thee live,
That it doth deprive of me even thy self,
that my self may have him, and my self alone.
What an ungodly heart hath been that hath thought to kill thee,
And so did he give my life away.
I now know his face, and for all his beauty did make thee,
That now it is a little doting,
That every thought doth make me a fool.
‘But why should my love not make thee my friend?
Why should his love take my life away?
What can I say for thee, to make myself yours?
‘”I have thy heart, thy sight, thy tongue, thy mind,
The breath, your voice, your breath, your hand, thy chest, thy back,
And then each part of my body I give thee,
And that you give me this, as much as you give me,
My heart and my mind together give me up.
So what did my love, my love, my love give me?
Her eye hath no eye, her head no head,
Her ear, and the neck she hears none,
Her right hand to the breast where the babe sits,
To hear her cry, ‘O love, how are you!’
She shakes her head, but in the way
Astride her; for she is no man;
Her cheeks do not yet turn white, but they have become black.
‘”I thought,” quoth she, “you are but your own,
Since thou art mine, I am thy own,
And for thy sake, I myself have given thee this.
‘”If he would have me in your hand, he would have me in mine;
For all men are equal, and all men men are equally fair,
That their beauty alone can be seen,
Both love, and beauty, and beauty, and beauty,
And of which we must compare;
In one, and in another, that which thou dost art.
‘”Look how much better your tongue did stain,
And more that that it hath redened to stain,
Than with the stain it hath had, so shall it be again:
Now then I say, ‘He that hath begun to speak, shall make me stop;
In him the tongue hath begun to utter, and the words began.
What is thy name, thou art thy name’s name?
How is thy love a thousand times more dear,
That thou wilt have me, and that I myself love,
As you, and as the one I have,
For all my parts my love shall be a thousand times stronger;
The other parts shall not be your beauty,
But thy love shall be thy beauty;
And as thy beauty is thy beauty, so shall I be,
Since I be thy beauty thy beauty shall be,
And for the other parts I shall be thy beauty.’
Now was I a rich citizen, a strong lord
Of the pure earth and the rich deep:
Wherefore I could not have paid you more,
But I am rich and did spend


======== CHECKPOINT 022 OUTPUT # 003 ========

UES of the world.
That he had no heart for his own,
But in his self had a heart for others,
And a self that made his heart true.
By this means he was drawn unto the west,
And with a strong desire to go thence,
Till the west would be his storehouse where he was.
So I now am gone, that my life is in vain,
In this to-morrow morning I come to-morrow’s feast;
All with a little rest to myself and my health,
And then I must see my self to be gone.
‘But why shall I be gone?‘
‘’So then why dost thou forsake me?’
‘By thy self I have seen thee depart.’
“O! thou art poor, but my mind hath not tasted thy tears
And now the self I have thought in thee is come,
To teach thee to live in this state,
And to cure thee of all thy cares.
‘In my shame, my fault,’ quoth she, ‘I never would not have done
To make a good painter so well bred.’
That this was my answer to your answer;
“What an unkind, wretched, adulterate tongue
So blustered Adonis, your self-made love,
Which, being a slave to his own ambition,
As to some stranger and not to yours,
Hath often spent in such silly terms
My dear mistress that she did give no love,
Unless she should swear to my vows:
And to prove the truth of my love,
Or prove the wrong of any of my vows?
For what false sense should I then have?
O thou so sweetest of love’s kind!
For love, the love of thyself, is strong,
Thine is my fear, and thee my delight.
‘Thy self is weak, my self is strong,
and thy self strong, thyself strong,
And to thee thy self, thyself strong, thyself strong,
To thee thy self, thyself strong, thyself strong,
And to thee thy self, thyself strong, thyself strong,
And to thee thy self, thyself strong, thyself strong,
And to thee thy self, thyself strong, thyself strong,
And to thee thy self, thyself strong, thyself strong,
And to thee thyself, thyself strong, thyself strong,
As in thy self he gives strength to my body.
“And now,” quoth he, “how can I still see thee,
And tell the story of that blessed night?
And for that, the heart of my heart did sing
The words, as in Lucrece’s rhyme:
‘Tis true that in me this world was my birth,
To the one that doth mine, to that of many,
Which to the living in my life doth dwell.
‘But as thou art, so is he: ‘Tis true that in me this world
I am thou; and to me this is thy,
And to me that thou shouldst love me,
And to me all the living in thee doth dwell;
So I to thee is thy self, and thyself doth dwell.
“To this day I have not done this or that,
But I, like a sick-horse in a state of motion,
Shiver to my self from within, and to myself from
The force of this love in my heart.
‘Hast thou not yet seen my self; that thou art in me,
And so hast thou, for it is my self in me.
‘Mine self is to me so; but mine self is to thee so.
That now I have this truth to report,
That I shall soon prove to thee;
Yet thou alone shalt know I am not,
Nor thou, my self, nor me, but I have seen thee.
“The moment he says this, and he says again,
The minute she says this, the minute he speaks again,
Her face, in the course of her sentence,
And her eyes, to some of their own invention,
Have in the course of their time begun
Tiny patterns that seem to belong to a queen:
Or patterns that seem to belong to two worlds,
To which the two worlds are divided:
If she be dumb, she cannot be dumb;
Or if she be fair, her heart will be dull;
If she be dumb, she cannot be fair;
if she be fair, the sweetest part of the heart,
Her head will be pale and pale;
But if she be fair, the most gentle part,
Her lips will be soft and gentle,
She the painter will make a painting of it.
‘The


======== CHECKPOINT 022 OUTPUT # 004 ========

concept’s beauty is that in it there were but two eyes, one of which was his eyes, and that of his head, the other his head; and there are two eyes that are each other’s eyes, but both their heads are not both eyes; thus this is true to every eye; whereof I have seen many a young maiden in her bosom kiss,
But what kind of eye is it that sees my love, and I my lust;
‘Tis to me this that is most beautiful, and that most foul;
But if that is so, why should I be so fond?
‘The one must not the other?’
“O, it is not love to thee,” quoth he, “nor to me to thee,
But if thou art so, then I can be nothing else than thee;
To thee alone are they, and to me alone are their parts,
As thou art, both are thy parts, and both is mine.
‘O, so thou are not yet, so thou art yet thou are.
“And the boy should not take physic;
The maid should not hear, nor the cat hear;
Her cries did break the latch and she was in the way.
‘And when Lucrece had done this with his voice,
Then Lucrece should not speak, nor should he weep,
That in a state of grief he might be so clear;
For in all his sorrow it seemed that he was a stranger;
Then in tears she seemed as if he were weeping,
To him in the present moment she spoke, ‘O, in thy heart I have seen;
This he cannot tell, but she thinks he lies.’
‘But it is not so,’ quoth Lucrece, ‘it is true,’
That it may be so, but thou art my heart, and so shall I be:
Let my sorrow, my tears, my tears, my tears be no good,
For my true joy and true happiness shall be,
The same thing that is so bad, and is so sweet;
The same thing that is true, and is so sweet,
That is so true, and is so sweet,
That is so true, and is so sweet,
And then what shall be thy true self be,
If ever thou art the true?
So thou shalt love with all thy heart,
And with all my heart do lovish the same;
But the one, that was true, and was so sweet,
Then wherefore thou dost think me wrong,
thou dost suppose I am in love with thee.
“And now, when she speaks the thought that I am,
Her face is as pale as snow, and her eyes as deep;
The poor one that would give him this, in his heart
With his cheeks full of tears, his tongue full of oaths,
That he did swear by the one true God,
His eyes, their contents so full, and their contents so deep,
That his own eyes should know, and his eyes his contents,
And with this, and these they were like two stones,
Or three in length, of so great a substance
That on their parts might have made one like all,
Had thou that beauty in thine eyes and all thy mind,
And not thy eyes but the thoughts of thee,
Whose judgement is pure, and thy judgement no foul:
For when a shadow shines on thee, a shining thing
Whereat thou art, or thou dost not yet be;
Thy true eye should see it, and all thy judgement be,
And thou that thy true eye may be so,
All my shame in my soul, and in my love be,
Whose shame be thou that thou art all thine,
And thine that thy shame be all thine,
O what a day the night hath me have lost
With such an eye that hath no thought in thee,
What a day to look upon, nor eye to look upon,
What a day to look upon, nor eye to look upon,
What a day I have lost with thine eyes, that my judgement be,
What a day to look upon and my eye be,
What a day to look upon and my eye be,
What a day I have lost with thine eyes, that my judgement be,
But that my judgement be lost and be lost in thee;
Which to my shame, to my shame my judgement be,
And my shame be thine; wherefore why not thou art me thy shame?
Thou shalt live a poor widow in her sweetest mood,
And she be mine slave, and all mine is mine.
(His eyes) I now, then, from thee I should,
For love is my friend, my love is mine slave;
But thou art mine only,


======== CHECKPOINT 022 OUTPUT # 005 ========

crowd.

“What else?” quoth she, “but to say that she was to the poor?”

“And so I do beg your pardon: for this I did think the most of myself,
Which as it did me, with this I did think myself:
And thus in this way I beg your pardon,
As in this I did think of my self:
In this, I do beg your pardon,
That by virtue of my beauty thou canst see me,
As you know not thy self I know thy self.
As thou art, what else is thou to me,
And what else do I hold of thee,
To me what you do with my self is more worthy
Of love’s greater love.
“No,” quoth she, “though I confess my self that thou mayst live,
To know that love did kill me and that thy self may live,
And yet thou art so, despite of the guilt thou dost incur,
Thy guilt should bring thee to the fountain of love,
And thence thy self would seem a prisoner,
As she in a prison did so many days stand,
While she gave such a view to all that doth abide:
The first the king of the earth and of the ocean
Were to stand before him at the end of her prison;
And her name the queen would not dare say;
To her grief for him she’d say, “Not his name,”
And when she began again she’d say, “But he is mine,”
With that she herself that I have left
In the place where the time of their coming shall come.
“O what a dreadful hour!
By what a fright!
By what a sorrow!
That dreadful hour!
That sad sight!
In such a shadow of death!”
And that fearful sight so often I saw,
So seldom were my eyes in his dark room
As they did their work so often when he lived:
For his light had such a bright lust to my heart;
And now, as my eyes are in darkness,
And as I in him I do fear to look.
This dark night I saw him on the ground,
Which in a bright, white light,
Would be in his face the way the birds have trod,
Of birds that would catch them but were not there,
Till they fled, and so did the wild beasts.
‘So therefore, I, to him I have not seen thee,
yet I have no wish of speaking more,
To persuade him that he hath not found me;
But when I do speak of him by him,
When I do state that I am there, he doth tell me,
And all the world knows his name,
By all those who have heard of him, I have sworn him,
Of kings that have died and men gone.
And then he turns, and I, and all my companions,
With those in me whereof I am but the same,
Him my eyes and those of all my self which I now see;
Like to thee in me I strive,
And in thy place, in the space of thy rest.
For for thy will, and your will I will not boast,
So I am a slave to you, my love’s end,
When thou willst do me wrong, thou shalt be slain,
And I will steal all your hearts and all your honour.
‘But the world with her eye cannot perceive,
The beauty of the night with her sight doth blot out,
His beauty is like a mirror, that sees nothing,
Nor eye with eyes can behold what lies in her sight:
So my heart doth do the rest,
To make love more pure, pure like my life’s colour;
And if I do nothing more, I’ll kiss him,
Or else he’ll love me and kill me.
“When will thou see me, O my love,
Like a blind babe with eyes that can not tell?
When shouldst thou see me when thou wert not,
When didst thou see me when thou wert not,
When werest thou comeest to behold me,
And that didst thou see, and I did not see?
How I see you now, thou art my self;
For thou art thy self, and I myself am mine,
Who are I to lie to thee,
And to thee be I my self’s help.
That which is best and most perfect in me,
Is beauty, and thou art my self’s help,
Which my self, which thou lov’st with beauty’s help,
Is best and most perfect in me,
Which my self, which thou lov’st with beauty’s help,
Is best and most perfect in me,
Which thou lov’st with beauty


======== CHECKPOINT 023 OUTPUT # 001 ========

understatement
To give the light to thy dark-burning eyes:
My poor creature, I will prove,
My fair and gracious self in thee,
With thy self-same love and my own self’s self.
This thought which is still active
And keeps the eye from seeing thee,
But will so soon vanish, that thou wilt see
The white flower, the precious one that thou dost yield.
Whose red colour will I adore,
But your white as straw in the fire?
What was thy worth? why do I hate thy image
And live with love to this wretched thing?
My self, I have all the beauty in thee,
My heart, my heart is my self, mine self is thy own:
My body is my self, mine self is thy self, mine self is thy own,
Mine self lives, my self dies, mine self lives,
my self lives, my self lives, my self lives,
My self lives, my self lives, my self lives,
My self lives, my self lives, my self lives, my self lives:
Her beauty, her beauty, her beauty, her beauty, her beauty, her beauty, her beauty,
So all the same she goes,
Her beauty lies dead, her beauty lies living;
Her beauty is dead, her beauty is dead;
Her beauty is dead, her beauty is dead;
Her beauty is dead, her beauty is dead;
Her beauty is dead, her beauty is dead;
And yet he calls the end of the world,
Whereon the world’s life is no more,
But there be nothing but the world’s death.
And therefore this verse is all mine,
And I can never forget thy beauty,
And my love’s worth is mine alone,
My love’s worth is mine alone,
My love’s worth is mine alone,
my love’s worth is mine alone,
My love’s worth is mine alone;
My love’s worth is mine alone;
My love’s worth is mine alone,
My love’s worth is mine alone;
My love’s worth is mine alone;
My love’s worth is mine alone;
My love’s worth is mine alone;
His worth is mine alone, mine alone is,
And he hath made mine one and all.
O then that thou hast that which dost thrive in thee,
Thy self was all that were not thy self,
Nor my self, nor my self, nor mine self,
But that which thou dost not yet thrive in thee,
When thy self is as thy self,
My self hath not so much a part,
As my self to me, as my self to thee:
So shalt thou die in me in the place where thou art.
Thou art mine, and I mine;
As mine self, my self to thee,
The world to me and mine,
So will I live, and to thee remain,
Even so shall I die in thee:
“O, how canst thou dost weep when he sees
The sight of this beauty, that in him hath light?
And thus, if thou dost not love that beauty,
Look, thou mak’st no sorrow, nor sorrow for thee;
For this he doth lend, and his will is strong;
And as his will he lends, and that his will is strong,
O no matter what thou dost say,
The man will give thee the means of thy sorrow:
For to kill thy will to kill thy will,
To give up thy will, thou shalt do it,
And by the will of thy will die to fulfill it:
But to kill thee, thou shalt do it,
The thing thy will shall die to fulfill,
Thy will die to fulfill, thy will do it,
To do it, thou shalt do it,
And when thou dost fulfill, thou shalt make it.”
“Hast thou done, didst thou die?”
“I will, and I will not yield
To your will, and I will not yield to mine will.
Thy will and all that thy will doth command,
Truly my will is my will;
My will is thy will, my will is mine;
My will is my will; my will is thy will.
And the thing thy will doth command doth belong;
And so I will dote on the thing thy will doth command,
But all this will in my will abide,
The thing thy will doth belong,
The thing thy will doth belong,
All this will dote on the thing thy will doth command,
But all this will dote on the thing thy will doth command,
And all this will dote on the thing thy will doth command,
And all


======== CHECKPOINT 023 OUTPUT # 002 ========

isan, who had gone to be with them, yet now he would make them come, and say to his friends,
Be on this side that you will find, ’tis not the time.
For with a heavy breath she starts, and by his side she picks up the dead,
That on their heads it looks as though they had died.
‘What a story to me now! that so long as my life were to die,
My thoughts, which were the objects of your love,
Would by some ill-apprehension, in my life to have my own,
And to have a mistress in your body be your shame.
My heart was not the slave of your passion,
To your love or your life, but your honour;
You know that my heart’s right with your honour
And all your self’s pride are my defects,
That in me you most revere, so yours do not despise:
Therefore I commend you by love to your honour,
Your love to me, your love to me most loving.
‘For when I have made a living love,
So do I the true heart’s pride grow.
When I have made a living hate,
So do I the true heart’s pride grow,
And every body, every cheek, every breath,
With the tongue and the cheek do all owe
One thing, true love, and that is, I bear:
But all this is false praise:
The true love that my love so aptly bears,
My true love did not live, and this love shall live,
Nor do I, to live this life, bear the death
Of your sweet-hearted love.”
This was Adonis’ voice:
When that, in his verse, he made known
That love was for his own sake;
That love, if not for your love, for your love’s sake,
You have to prove it with me.
‘This is why you were with me this time,
And what a waste of time you made
To see my face and to look on my cheek;
Thy loving-kindling eyes that were your love’s eye,
Took your face, and that, like a painter,
Under the sun’s shadow painted it in his place,
To make it appear true, not false:
And I have had my hate and my love’s love lost,
And every other thing I have, but the love I owe you,
To you, that will be your own thing.
‘Yet as the day’s day proceeds, so my love’s days
grow longer and longer,
And with each that you die, the day’s end is seen,
To the last that no time shall be missed.
By then I, being told the day,
And with all my youth I have, I can say,
“This day is no tomorrow,” for it is past,
Which in that time is the time of the living day.
But what a time he tells, what a time he shows;
And now the time he stops, all this time in his absence
Since he doth tell it, as he doth it,
To put your shame on me, to tell my friend.
This is the thought of a young man in his early youth,
That from his youth a poor widow gave
To give him this good, which was, by nature,
To survive and thrive for a thousand years.
In her soft-pawing hand she had knit a new coat;
And now a new wound had grown, a new wound to live.
For this she gave, and her face, and her lips,
For every other part, as well as all her parts.
If she were dead, that she may have her death remembered,
She can not live, nor can she live to the day;
For in this she cannot live.
And yet she who was living in my face,
She who was dying in my face was dead,
And life would die for her, if it did die in my face.
‘Now why did he come, where are you,
That this time to me I should show you
Your own love, my own life, my own life,
For I am a living being,
To live, to live, and to live still,
And not die, nor live to the day.
-Then what is love that is not love itself?
-Love that is not the death of love,
-Love that is not death, and death in itself
-Love that is not death,
-Love that is not death, and death in itself.
-And now what I shall write,
If I shall die in your absence.
“How then, then, did thou, as a lamb bearing,
Eat the lamb that had not been so ripe
When thou hast


======== CHECKPOINT 023 OUTPUT # 003 ========

trickle of his white teeth.
‘Look at that old face! He must not deceive me!
‘No, do not suppose it, but it may have come from thee;
The fair maiden from the fair field,
How many times we have sworn had we met.
‘Her soft cheek was like a sweet rose,
And her fair forehead, like a golden crystal,
Than pure jewel that would have vanished as snow’d.
‘And thus I hear him say: ‘And now thou mak’st the day a feast,
When toil and leisure all your leisure are gone.
‘For thou art well well-pursued: thou art so well-pursued,
That a thousand hours must remain to watch it,
And thou hast yet thy days full of ill,
A thousand hours to be wasted.
‘O what a day a thousand hours must last!
For how long can’t one hour spend in that ill-doing,
Time spent in an hour’s waste is wasted.
O that waste which no more can afford to pay:
And yet canst thou dost enrich the night,
But that thou dost spend with some excess of days?
Even so thou wilt be like the doting horse;
But that doting horse should never retire,
For this doting man can never live up to himself;
But when he did have another horse,
Th’ restful rest might well make thee thrive.
‘And when thou shalt look, thou art like a lamb,
And shall I not kill thee when I taste thy sweet flesh?
‘”Then there was no time for sweets or for sweets-welcoming:
Then no more time for sweets for sweets,
Or sweets for sweets for sweets.”
This verse is the last in the rhyme,
‘My love did desire to prove you right,
So did his loving mother that she lov’d.
To him his beauty was proof of virtue;
He was proof of love’s excellence,
But he could not prove me of it.
-“The day of his victory, and of his victory’s end,
Holds no end till he wakes up,
But his wake shall be full of hours, and hours will be spent.
How then can I tell thee I know nothing?
Who did teach thee what to read?
Where did I learn that I am not born?
What I learned by books but by hearsay,
And by the hours spent in hours spent in hours spent.
The painter was so fond of numbers
That he made himself use of them in painting,
The merchant so fond of wealth,
And so that each eye that sees him hath some,
Is not one of them rich, but all of them ill.
And yet all of them are not worth anything,
Or all worth is no but of some thing that is worth.
My love did desire to prove you right,
So did his loving mother that she lov’d.
As his mistress, his mistress, her mistress’s hand
And all their mutual love was fair:
That sweet Lucrece to the king and queen,
Which had done them the ceremony,
Had told him their reason and reason of their love,
And now they both beheld
the wailing of a dove, but never in love did she bring it;
He that hears her shrieking cries in her mind,
His mistress, his mistress’s heart is full of delight,
They that sing in their praise of the love they had,
Both love and sorrow are the same;
Thou art the same, and both my dear friend
Are love’s love, and mine is love’s sorrow;
Neither is my love the same to thee,
My love, thy love, my dear friend, thy dear self,
Are all the same, and all that thou art,
Love shall be thy art, and then thou shalt not be.
-Thou art my friend, my friend, my friend’s self,
And thy self, my self, thy self, thy self,
And I shall make him my friend, my friend my friend’s self;
He shall not steal my friend’s art,
Nor steal his love’s art’s love’s passion.
But he that can do me honour, he shall do me honour.
-“O that which you have my heart,
I can love you more than you,
For you are my friend, mine is mine, and my dear,
And you both are my friends, and they both are my friends:
That love, and mine, and mine,
So shall never depart from your love,
But from your life I shall be free,
And I shall die free, and you both die.”
Then the old man gave a sigh, and did look down,
And did cry out a


======== CHECKPOINT 023 OUTPUT # 004 ========

comed was a novel, which he made to suit his purpose.
“No, not that,” quoth he, “and my love was too far removed, and hence I should not kiss it.
‘Thou art so gentle a thief, how fair a mistress that will not see thee naked,
If thou hast such an excuse, I will go, and, if thou love’st I’ll take my cloak,
That thou mayst do me good, and do all I have,
That I may show thy face unto thy neighbour’s,
Then that’s mine; then that’s my wife’s, and so am I.
And with this I do excuse thee of thy folly:
Yet, if thou be so, I must not steal thy beauty,
For thou canst not make me a friend, nor make me love thee.
If thou hast my love, let my words express it,
And if thy words express my thoughts, let them be my thoughts,
That the eye may view them in their fair complexion.
Her cheeks were full, her eyes fair, her lips white.
‘But why should I do this, thou canst not leave my side?
‘And thus shall the old clock that I did build
Under the stars turn, and all the night do I still
Receives the spring and leaves the autumn.
‘Yet with a fair moan I say,
‘And where is this old man, who was a kind father?
Whose tongue hath not made it sound so,
Whose hand was not gentle, nor tender, nor tongue gentle,
Whose hand was not crooked, nor his fingers unsymmetrical,
Whose eyes were not deep-lidded, nor his lips shallow,
Whereon from his eyes, deep black, came forth,
Whereat she grew old and white.
‘Then thou my lord, when I am in thy place,
Will not love your eyes, nor your tongue;
If I know them by nature, I will,
And to that which is best, to be so loved.
‘And what dost thou be in my love,
What love’s stain, and why are thou so?
Why then dost thou have this beauty,
That not thy love’s love but mine own,
Whereon my love’s stain falls?‘Then, that which is best to thee
Who in thy own body is thine,
Which thou dost lack, that in thee
Thy pure self, that thou art thy self,
Shall in thyself, in thy self’s self,
be thy self, and thou my self be mine;
For I am thy self, thy self thy self;
And therefore thou shalt know me and do all my grace
With thy self in thee, and all thy parts by thee.
O how sweetly the sweet sweetest and most true,
And if in mine self were the other,
The sweetest, I do call them sweet,
And best thou thy self.
‘If, that beauty that doth not live,
With such a love should he not be,
The self is dead, and self living.”
Her bosom was full of joy,
And with her she rose and bathed in water,
That her breath might not drown it in so heavy a sigh;
Her eyes could not breathe her,
And then, in tears, she gave her tongue
To weep and to sing her praises.
‘And this she said, and she told the tale:
This man’s name he had,
And here his wife he lived,
And now he his wife’s self is gone.
He that knows this, I that I know not,
This man’s name, this man’s self is gone;
His self his self gone, and he himself dead;
‘‘O, where is my beauty, why am I gone,
As thou art not gone, so is I gone,
This was my beauty, but I did not see thee gone;
If thou didst see my beauty, what couldst thou look at?
O how art I not gone, my beauty,
I do not know you, but I am gone.
‘O, beauty in thy grace,
Beauty in thy love,
My beauty, my love, my love, my love,
My love hath not power to make me change my mind;
For thou art in me, and I in thee.
‘Now this gentle, virtuous wife,
Came of him that had died, and she that loved him
Did so she that loved him bequeath her name.
‘To him she did say, ‘I saw thee die,
And yet I did not kill thee.
As thou art, in me I did see thee,
And


======== CHECKPOINT 023 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Latinos of that part of the world where my mind dwells.
‘So it was. ‘What shall I say, then?’
She replies, ‘But now thy eye, and that of thy brain,
Do your best to learn; my heart, too, is no longer my art.’
‘That you must be so?’
‘If thou dost make no false excuses,
By whose means shall I see thy truth:
As if your love had died, so the world began again
To make false that was mine.
‘And that my love must I do this,
I will, and love will do this;
With all that I am, I will make my love love thee,
And my love shall do this; but I cannot make your love my love.’
‘O how I love thee, when I love thee,
By thy side are my thoughts; so are yours;
And to all my good, I do give you more.’
Her breath heft’d, she drew it back
She could not breathe it, and it did not do;
‘My mind is no happier with all my thoughts than mine.’
But now Lucrece’s eyes were still with him,
And by Lucrece’s side were Lucrece’s brows,
And Lucrece’s heart to his heart had been drawn,
And hence Lucrece was drawn, and therefore Lucrece had been.
Her lips, being so full, had begun to moan
As they had from one another on this dreadful ocean:
This poor man’s grave was but a tomb,
Which, though all his heart should hold,
Came to Lucrece’s ear and wail’d his blood,
And still Lucrece moaned, her hand that she owed to him,
Her other cheek, in which Lucrece had pluck’d,
She that his lips had lov’d,
Her lips were no better, nor any more;
She would say nothing, and the tears flowed
Like floodgates through the river,
And with each successive flood she threw,
A hundred dolorous rushes flowed down,
And flood, and flood-like river,
Goes down from the high heaven to the bottomless sea;
Who takes his cross in that, and he doth show,
To be all red, all black, and all white.
‘My love,’ quoth she, ‘do you desire me to die?
Or to live and live and live,
My dear soul, to my body, to my life,
And death to thee, and to this eternity,
When I in thy self live, and in the earth,
When in thee die I shall live with thee.’
Then she looks sad, and frowns on him;
‘Why are you weeping so, dear,
That you have so much to weep over?
What a happy feeling I feel that makes me weep!
‘What a happy feeling I feel that makes me cry!
For he that is not, may he not live,
For this cause I am in love.’
“And now, when thou shalt see my eyes,
I swear to thy good friend, that thou lov’st me,
And will not kill thee when I kill thee.
That he might die, and that he might live,
And to this I say, O my friend,
Be mine, and mine.”
“And then,” quoth she, “he woos, “though his heart should love him,
His heart to my heart loves none,
Though his heart’s love’s love be one,
Whilst it did not love him,
Yet still he sought her from all parts.
So, so, that the eye doth seem his eye,
Which in spite of her self’s best skill,
Yet when he makes it come to that, it cannot do.
Now I see how this poor heart
Is a man’s eye, so is her heart,
But if any eye make thee such a love,
And if there be no love in me,
Nor all eyes which look on thee,
Nor all ears that hear thee,
Nor all ears that hear thee,
Nor all ears that hear thee,
But all these things, for the eyes that see thee,
My love hath never been the fairest,
Nor all that love is,
Thou art the fairest, thy heart the fairest.
Love, I know, thou art my friend,
Yet thou art not my friend.
‘Whence therefore I said that thou art my friend,
I had to say that thou art mine,
And thou art mine, but then all thy parts are,
And then all your parts are,
And all thy parts are, and all thy parts are,
This thou art thy friend.


======== CHECKPOINT 024 OUTPUT # 001 ========

Tribune in Rome, and having thus observed him, he advised her that she should speak to her husband, and her mind should not be taken by argument to any other cause.

And when she had been gone some ten or twenty minutes, and in the meantime with tears in her eyes she would answer him,
“And yet for my love is so much of a sad state,
That I do not think all my beauty so dear.
The hour is long, but it is never ended.
‘Tis my pleasure to have some good news for you.
I may say, thy name, thy true form,
And be quite fair, and yet for the sake of this good deed
My love will prove thee my worst false friend,
For thy love I have tried as false a friend,
And I have tried to make thee my enemy.
To be your friend thou must wear, but be not so fair.
O love, why shouldst thou hide thy shame in my shame?
And do not do as the fool makes you,
For love and you alone make me laugh,
And this love’s love that I love with all my mind,
Since nothing in this world can kill the truth,
Nor be too hard nor too hard’st to persuade the truth;
What, for instance, is an excuse for what I did
In an argument: when I have no excuse for what I did,
Thy love is thy friend, your friend is mine,
That I may entertain thee, and thy love shall win my mind,
Though all mine being of you must in a thousand parts be,
By no means, my love hath your sweet love and your hateful
And that love’s sweetness and thy hate are your enemies.
When they, but like birds of prey, had laid siege to my sight,
And like bees on their hive fell, their droppings drenched the place,
In the airy ground where roses doth flower,
Which to this world I am forced to bear,
The poor roses, the young birds, the lame that are drowsy,
And to all this I will find none, nor can I be blamed;
For I love thee, my sweet love, in thy self,
Like the little birds that fly over the sky,
Who do not breed, and no birds breed but are kind,
In this world are their nests kept up; and they do fly away;
And they do not see, but they fly away when they have seen;
And by this way do I fear you to my life,
Thy love, in truth, you did breed,
And thou, with the thought of it, did breed again.
My love, my love is of you,
If that which is so, I am so happy;
Love, what is to thee this time,
Or to me it is said to be thy best,
The poor thing being, all the better to use it?
That the best is to be a poor jewel,
In beauty’s shade thou shalt be, that thou mightst make a sweet painting.
No more than that, this love, this loving love, will not die;
And with this love she should die, till love’s last breath.
She shall not die, she is but a happy man,
And so for the sake of love she shall live.
O why cannot thy beauty be better than this?
What better means shall I see than thy beauty?
O what better object should I see than thy grace?
O what more must I see than thy majesty,
Thou hast given in such a way, where thou art not.
-In his heart, the voice that speaks
Is a voice to himself and to his friends,
To himself alone, and to his friends alone,
And to himself alone is his life, to himself alone:
A life worth living, a life worth nothing,
The beauty that is made of a life, not one,
Whereby the other is nothing but a state of being.
To him who lives and whom he lives,
His life lies, as in that life of mine.
Therefore it was, that he should live and die,
And there lived in his life my love that ever lived,
And now live they in me that I hate,
Which life, in my love, in my love’s will live.
(So he lives and dies and gives all the rest to me,
Then they all together are like one creature;
And all their parts in one body, in that unity
Which is in me the unity of the whole.)
‘But now, O lovely city! now my heart shall behold,
As I hear thee, you see it, as I hear thee,
And when you behold this, you will marvel that I have seen it
O the world with your eye,


======== CHECKPOINT 024 OUTPUT # 002 ========

177-7, the year is ending,
Or shall the year come and be dead;
Or what should I say, for thou wilt give me,
And by thy grace’s kindling thy tongue,
To persuade thee to break the seal?
What to do with thine eye I have,
Or what should I say, for thou wilt give me,
Thy beauty’s self to thy will be mine,
Thy pride to mine self in thine,
And thy worth to mine own self in yours,
Thy skill in the world, and all your fame,
The world’s, and all thy fame’s worth?
For thy self in me was,
And now, my self’s self, and thou thy self’s,
With that is thy self’s self, and thou my self’s,
And that for thee I am your self,
And then, that thy self in thee is mine,
Which is yours, and what thyself is mine,
And then that my self in thee is yours,
And that mineself in thee is mine,
And that mineself in thee is mine,
Then I’ll let thee use thee, for I love thee,
And for thee shall I love thee.
‘Look, it is the summer, and all the snow is down,
That’s the place where winter is hot:
But that where summer’s hot,
That cold cold place,
Is cold; cold is dead, and all things now
Beautiful beauty, the flower that lives,
For life itself dead; for thy life itself now
lives dead, and all things now
Die, like ashes, as the fire
As fire on the nighty cloud died in the morning:
For all the day’s day’s day was dead and dead,
For tomorrow, tomorrow’s day’s day was dead and dead,
And yet thou art this; and so are my lives.
For what was a good life to be
That made thee so dead,
Sometime of one thing, never of another,
That life on the ground in thee was still,
Where thou, like a dead flower, was in life,
But thou art dead, like a dead flower,
And death on earth, and thence to heaven,
The earth’s dead and then again dead,
The dead on heaven’s level was then dead,
So thou wast living, not dying;
That was the part of me which I had,
That thou art dead; for which is my living,
that thou wast dead, thou wast not living.
Thus hath he my dear love for thy love,
Even though his life he is a part of:
He was love when she married him, and he love when she died.
No, no, no, no, no!
‘Tis said he was a child, a boy.
When she died she saw her husband lying;
As if he had seen her wailing,
And now she must cry with all her might,
And make him come; but she was so proud
That all those who see her crying could not see;
For their hearing was quiet enough, and therefore they did hear,
As if she did hear them; but they did see them;
For then did they behold her weepy eyes,
That all the world to their grief might see
Had no heart but to see her.
“Father,” she cries, “how much more we hate thee!”
And yet, from her back she thrusts her hand,
That to this she must raise her brows up,
As if from the base of the heaven’d heaven,
To see him, and see him where he lies.
‘If thou wilt help me, and help me to make
a new age,
By that I may make you all men’s eyes,
And in their hearts that art still will say,
That thou art my love, and I am thy love,
Since I love thee for love, and I myself am thy love,
For love’s sake do I love thee, and yet thou dost not,
Though I am thy love, though I myself dost not be,
Because thou art not thy love, though I myself be thy love,
I am your love, and thou art my love,
For though I be your love, yet thou dost be my love,
If I be your love, but my love be thy love,
Yet thou art thy love, and I myself am thy love;
And this was the purpose of my rage,
And as it was the end of my rage,
The effect was so swift, that I was slain,
That I did not live long, and yet live.
“So do not leave me alone,” quoth she;
And for fear of this I will not depart,


======== CHECKPOINT 024 OUTPUT # 003 ========

sod are for the glory of men,
Which they do lov’d to a thousand tricks,
Which every one makes a mad excuse,
Which by the love of their true-love-fac’d lover
Saw the poor man die with his blood in his eye,
Which it all was to say they have not been slain.
By this, that sad-sweet night, she took away
The torch, she threw a tear at it,
And when the poor maid found her tear gone,
She stood her fair eye where it doth weep;
And every thing that touched her that touched her might be seen
With tears and tears of grief.
But if I am an old maid, and you are my wife,
Do not be my subject and do not tell me,
That your kind kindness is enough to my needs.
‘O, this sorrow which I see doth stain my face,
When that stain was once upon my cheeks,
And that on my brow, in my cheek
To make it seem so dainty doth reign.
And yet, my face was never made so pure
That now it is the shadow of my face,
That in my face’s shadow it no more looks,
Nor is it, like that of my true self,
When my heart hath been pure, and my body pure?
When did I ever say, ‘Tis no excuse to forbid,
To go and sit, as some do,
Where I may kiss your sweet cheek, as much,
As your cheek, as mine own, and therefore all my blood
Gives my self pleasure: then be thou free, my self!
That which is my own, my own self,
Is the true state of all my parts,
And all thy parts thy parts.
As to that which I do, let me say
That my love is the most excellent of my parts,
And to that which I do, let my parts be,
That both I and I alone be,
And both of my parts belong to you both.
The world, to whom I owe my worth,
That I may give the best gift to posterity,
If in it be no defect, it be thy self:
The world to whom I owe my worth,
That I may give the best gift to posterity,
If in it be no defect, it be thy self.
For the same thing, thou my child, if thou bear my face,
I shall give thee the best gift,
Thou the best gift to me.
O, how canst thou help when I will rob you of time?
And this to your help, that thou helpst me will do.
O, what a sweet-dressed beggar to make a poor man laugh!
O, how am I that thou shalt stay my will so long?
As thou art such as to entertain me,
As thou art such that shall entertain my will so long,
The love of all is that thou shouldst make my love live,
Thou art so fair as fair-necked Priam,
That my love is my love, thy true self,
Thou shouldst be my sweetest love, thy true self,
And all my beauty was love, not thine,
To him thine be not my sweetest love;
For now the time is when thou shouldst be my sweetest love,
Thou shouldst be my love, thy true self;
Thou shouldst be my love, thy true self;
Thou shouldst be my love, thy true self;
Thou shouldst be thy love, thy true self,
Thou shouldst be my love, thy true self,
And thus he concludes that thou art thy love.
‘Tis true, it is true, but it be so,
For he knows that his love in thee lies,
And every part of thee bears thy face.
When she began to cry and to weep,
The old priestess with tears down her cheeks
As if he had seen them from the glass,
And she herself stood on the water,
As if with her tears she should have said:
She hath said, ‘What a boar is in his head!
He feeds by grazing upon his herd,
And eats the poor for food.’
But the old priestess, whose eyes he did not see,
Upon him Tarquin did run;
He is like a young lion chasing after an owl;
He is the eye of a serpent,
And when the young boy sees him, and sees it writhe,
He spits venomous venom.
‘So Tarquin’s voice was troubled,
She thought he should say, ‘You know how to kiss the young.’
‘So that’s how I know,’ quoth she, ‘it


======== CHECKPOINT 024 OUTPUT # 004 ========

worrisome or doubtful.
He is proud of his rank, his beauty and of his worth,
To boast his beauty and not merely to boast,
But to praise himself and his worth in meld.
He lies upon the bottom of a mountain in the dark
Of hell and earth.
For heaven’s grace did teach him this beauty,
And taught him his faults; but for sin’s sake he hath sworn,
Who had no other grace to do with the earth.
‘O my poor, my son, I wish I had done what I did,
And this did I beg for pardon; but the world did teach me thee.
When thou hast told this, the world shall show thee that thou didst do.
“Now,” quoth she, “look at that breast whereon I fell,
To which I fell that day, to which I now am;
And in my breast I was so full of grief,
That no tears, no sorrow, but my heart could not hold;
For all that my heart should behold the spectacle
Of a dying man and of a widow.
“Now, O,” quoth she, “this time began mine eyes
With this sweet-burning red,
Who at once set down their fire, and threw themselves
Upon the earth, as if they could not live;
And from their fiery doom they did go,
To where they were dead.
“So you will,” quoth she, “as in the night,
In darkness thou mayst still behold the dark
As a curtain that obscures, the night’s fire from thy sight,
To the place where you see the world, in thee shall lie
The living and the dead, who in their blood
Make thee living and dead, and in thee shall be burnt.
So die I for thee! be my poor self,
Like a living man with a dead wife,
Whose love for thee in my heart so sweetly died,
Like a wife and husband, but with two lovers.
But this, though in a world dead, thou dost be live
The world was thy life, and thou art not my light,
Nor thy shadow’s beauty nor thy light’s beauty’s matter.
Even then will I love thee for thy beauty’s sake,
And if thou art so rich a friend, with so much as thy worth,
My love will live on my lips till I have died.
“Here I am, I shall beg thee a bed,
And thou shalt have it, but never again shall I be sick;
‘If thou dost leave me, I shall take the horse.
And, as thou shalt not lie, yet thou shalt die:
Let him die in thy love, and in thy love’s blood shalt live.
O what shall it be that in my heart’s eye
A love-treaty should prove a love-treaty?
But I believe thou, that thou canst not bear that,
That thou didst say to me when thou began to sing,
That I should swear, ‘O Lord, my love, that thou shalt bear it
And that I shall swear, ’tis thee that makes my life come true.’
And yet why should I say this,
If thy love and mine eyes do bear
My love’s false love, and thy true love’s false view,
Then why should I be a husband,
And make a husband, if I love thee?
How can I have another wife,
For you are not my wife, nor my husband’s wife,
But for your love, let not be bound together
An adulterate vow in my heart,
Unless it should be true, though love be false;
This vow is not true, but false in spirit,
Which is by nature made false, when nature deceives,
To prevent the false from deceiving.
O, what false thing in nature I may call;
And what false thing in nature in virtue
I may make false, to prove the truth;
I may make false to prove the truth,
And false to prove the truth the truth was:
Therefore I cannot make false in thee,
For thee I am so much of my kind,
That thou art my friend, and thou art my friend’s friend.
thou art his friend, and thou art mine friend’s friend,
And all these are my favours, my dear friends,
And I have no friend in thee, nor in thee.
If thou art dead, thou hast no friend in me.
O what good didst thou hear of Lucrece’s death?
For she was the first witness of his death,
And the most learned of all,
She attended to the death of Collatine,
And the rest of Lucrece’s estate.
She did say he had been slain


======== CHECKPOINT 024 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Maduro

Saying that she is proud

To wear thee in honour,

Though her tears will burn, and her words are plain

Their contents will be the most notorious
To his eyes or elsewhere on this earth.
And yet there is a time for all this,
That in vain my words are sung
To the choir that is to sing thee,
And the choir that loves me.
To her own chaste soul she answers
My desperate plea, in her own breast
Hateful words, for my sake are thy love.
“Dear Collatinus, my friend,” quoth she, “this ill-favour’d night
Till this hour, like the sun that doth shine,
Thy face doth quake at your foul trespass
And thou art too gentle to call thee friend again,
Thy heart-defying cheek makes it quiver,
thy heart’s sweet heart doth quake again.
‘But now thy heart hath made her proud;
Her fair hair doth stand on her chest;
Her short braided hand stands there,
Her red brow folds like a flower,
Her face is like a painted glass,
To make thee appear like a child of mine,
Like all those in love’s fair,
In love’s fair beauty, in love’s fair beauty,
And as the best from the worst from the best dies,
The one on his level doth show the best,
his life, his fair life, his fair fair life die;
His fair life to that fair he doth live.
‘Then now thy heart, mine own, and all their goods,
Took delight in thy sad plight;
And now thy heart’s sorrows and thy sweet thoughts
Are in thy grief and thy sorrow’s heaviness
Till now you can see, you can say:
My heart with thee is dead, my heart with thee
That still my heart still remains alive,
And still I love you still, and yet I do not
Love thy heart, thy heart, thy heart’s love,
That thou so sweet and so fair,
That, like a dead eagle and dead of day,
Shall fly away to the sea, and stay to kill thee.
He did this by his sovereign will,
Which by his sovereign will he obeyed;
Then, too, he did as the sun did,
And still the night is so hot that my eye burns,
Even so thy self, my self, and my self’s worth,
Are like a burning fire to your eyes.
“Now then my heart,” quoth he, “is no more,”
And as he goes forth he bids another look,
Thou art like the golden jewel in mine eye,
But this golden jewel being struck with thine own hand,
Who as his golden foil bids thee fly,
Thy golden jewel bids thee stay in thy heart,
Or stay where thou hast lived;
Or live where thou art not born but live.
“My heart! my heart, my heart, my heart, my heart!
Whose blood it doth spend upon every wrinkle,
Sew the blood out of my cheeks, in my cheeks my nose,
my lips, my tongue, my lips’ lips, my lips’ lips, my lips’ lips!’
And I will drown my soul in his stain,
And live with his stain till he die,
He who doth live in thy stain doth live,
And shall live on in thy stain for all eternity.
“And now I wish my soul to be proud
Of this and my body’s death,
As I should like it to be proud of my soul.
Now now my heart to be proud of my body,
And my heart to be proud of my body’s death,
So let it not be, that I may not say
That my life is not worth living,
And yet this is so;
For it was mine that, if I had not my own,
My life is my life, but no more,
Or I live a life of my own,
So life cannot live the life that my heart lives,
It is my life, and thus no more my heart lives.
“So then why should I say to my friends
That I love thee for thy sake?
Mine true love is mine true love,
And thou art my self’s son, my self’s son,
If thou dost love my self so,
Thy self is thy self, and yet thou dost love mine,
For in thy self I am so pure,
So that thou dost love mine as well
As thy self was mine, and yet thou dost love mine.
‘And yet thou dost love mine as well,
For thou art mine own, my self is mine


======== CHECKPOINT 025 OUTPUT # 001 ========

akeru the other way,
As if there were two wills on one;
Nor mightst I say ‘And that man thou hast’ not love,
Yet his lips were mute.
‘If thou wilt,’ quoth she,’my friend, and I,
The fault is mine; but I shall cure thee.’
‘If thou wilt,’ quoth he,’my friend, and I,
The fault is mine; but I shall cure thee.’
If thou wilt,’ quoth she,’my friend, and I,
The fault is mine; but I shall cure thee.’
Then if thy lips be mute, my friend,
My friend, and I,
The fault is mine; but I shall cure thee.’
‘As for me, I am as thy good self,’ quoth she,
As if I had any heart, I should die;
For if a heart be that cannot die,
My heart’s desire will do me no good.
The better I live, the more he myself is willing.
For to die, to die in me is my death;
For all this I do not think myself so;
I am no more then a slave, nor do I desire,
That I should die for him who loves me,
With my death shall all my lives depend.
He who did kill her, he whom thou didst love,
But not he whom she himself did kill,
Had his head’d up in his arms, and to the ground
In his arms was writ the following writ:
‘”Now, if thou didst betray me,
I will kill you, I will not beheld;
But if thou didst betray me,
And I should know all for a thousand murders,
I will do you a bloody hand;
I will put you on earth’s knife,
And make you a queen of Rome;
For why should I love thee, though thou love me not?
Even so I swear I will not have thee,
For thou shalt live to know it all.”
‘Love,’ quoth she, ‘if thou art to lose it,
Thou must lose thy love, and be dead.
O what an act! I was once so happy,
Yet thou hast done me wrong.
“This is love in the heart,
To put on a happy face; and no more can hold me,
But in my heart there is a true love;
And when thou dost turn back, my heart’s beauty’s stain
The worse shall he die.
For this reason dost thou make me kill her,
I’ll do so again, my death will live;
And I will not be revenged on her,
Her love was strong, my beauty weak,
Her shame strong, her hate weak,
His shame, his shame’s disgrace’s disgrace,
His shame’s disgrace, my shame’s disgrace,
He is my torment, mine disgrace is mine.”
‘”Now if thou didst betray me,
I will kill you, I will not beheld,
But if thou didst betray me,
Her grace will teach thee to kill me;
Or else let him go, and live in love.”
The man, in whose hand she laid down the wound,
The dead creature, the living being dead:
So did she, and the rest were dumb in their tears,
Even in the dying’s sight as in the dead.
O who hath not thought that I am dead and am not so,
And am alive to tell it in the time?
What, then, art thy self buried in me,
That never again willst thou tell,
But what is thy self, that thou so know’st,
That I was dead and was never so.
O what love of thy true heart canst thou give,
That in thy life thou hast never seen
For the time of my life’s creation?
Why, then, are you not my love,
And never willst thou be my love’s deceiver?
And why, then, is this my love?
To what effect can I not tell
what love is, what effect I not tell,
The most false excuse?
What false excuse is not but thine own,
The most false excuse is thy true self,
And false excuse thou art,
Thy self in truth is thy own truth,
And thine own in truth thou hast not done;
Thou hast done so, and now thou shalt live,
And to-morrow, my love will not live again,
Nor will I have his love in my life.
But thou art my love, thou mine, my true love,
Thou shalt not die by this.
“To make her sorrow more severe,
So to be revenged on her more blunt,
Her


======== CHECKPOINT 025 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Pope, where he dwells;
As though he did come in and slay his own self,
O do not let me say thy name,
What is thy name?
O what is thy name? ‘O how sweet thou art!
That which thou dost name me, my love doth not
Thy tongue doth not speak thee,
But thou hast said it so, and not done it.
“That thou dost name me,” quoth he, “is not to blame,
That my name might be better.
For my self my self, mine own self,
And every kind of thing and woman’s eye,
For thy self the beauty of thine own,
And every kind of thing my self that ever I saw,
So many things for thy self that my own self can not know,
This to me is my true self, all my self to thee,
And yet all thy life, each to itself be,
All thy true self, to all my self, to all my self,
The very nature of things to themselves be,
And every thing to themselves to themselves be,
I would not like nor seek thee, but would love thee,
And thou, my true self, be my true self,
And all my self, all mine, and all thy true self
All my self, all my self, all thy true self,
The very nature of things to themselves be,
And every thing to themselves be,
The very nature of things to themselves be,
Of each thing’s being together, what parts thereof belong,
And each other’s not together in their parts?
“Look at thee, my love’s love, when thou lov’st my heart,
It hath the semblance of thy self;
My self, thou self’st me, my self’s not my self,
The world knows not that I myself am thy self,
Yet it doth my self do this;
The world cannot help me see thy self but with his eye,
I can do it myself, and you shall do it,
What can I say? do it to thy self, for I do believe thee.
‘O then I pray for thee, for thou didst steal my life,
And thus do I pray for thy self,
To show thee thy self didst lend mine life:
O then my self did lend mine self;
Myself, thy self, my self lent mine self:
And now thou my self do lend mine self,
For I gave mine self so unto thee;
Thou didst lend mine self, and so mine own self.
For in me thou hast lent mine self a son,
That thou shalt not mineself remove.
Yet now I do say that thou art my father’s slave,
and I thy father’s slave,
Whose ransom shall thou pay thee?
My self hath borrowed my self’s life,
That I myself was the thief,
My self is thy self, my self’s self is thy self,
My self is thy self’s self, my self is thy self,
My self is thy self’s self, my self’s self is thy self,
My self is thy self, my self my self’s self;
But what my self’s self hath no self,
That I can myself show thee myself’s self,
And in this thou art my father’s slave,
That I myself am thy father’s slave,
Thy self is thy self, my self is thy self,
My self is thy self’s self, my self is thy self;
For thou hast lent mine self a son,
And mine self hath borrowed mine self a son;
Thou hast borrowed mine self’s life, and mine own self a son;
Thou hast borrowed mine self’s life, and mine own self a son;
Thou hast borrowed mine self’s life, and mine self a son;
Thou hast stolen mine self’s life, and mine self’s self a son;
Thou hast stole mine self’s life, and mine self a son;
Thou hast stolen mine self’s life, and mine self a son;
Thou hast stolen mine self’s life, and mine self a son;
Thou hast steal my self’s life, and mine self a son:
Thou hast stolen my self’s life, and mine self a son;
Thou hast stolen my self’s life, and mine self a son;
Thou hast stolen mine self’s life, and mine self a son;
Thou hast stolen mine self’s life, and mine self a son:
Thou hast stolen mine self’s life, and mine self a son;
Thou hast stolen mine self’s life, and mine self a son;
Thou hast stolen mine self’s life, and mine self a son


======== CHECKPOINT 025 OUTPUT # 003 ========

lame
In a thousand tongues he says.
In love, the most gracious man of her,
She loves all; but she which cannot be satisfied,
For she hath such love as to stain,
And she that is not made to stain in thine,
The truth cannot, and will not stain thy face.
So the poor thief bebond’d her hand,
That, having put down that which he owed,
She will, she say, be revenged;
And his revenge shall prove not so fair,
That he should live, or be revenged,
But be a tyrant, and a tyrant in crime.
“If that,” quoth she, “on what charge shall I get,
For my guilt, and my shame, or both?
And if my shame be the offender,
That my shame his offender shall bear,
As a guilty man, as a guilty wife,
I, on your side, bear your shame in scorn.
If I have not had it, this Tarquin’s deed,
Or that which you were, then all the guilt should hang.
For now let’s leave the subject,
Let’s go to another place to speak;
And from thence return to our carriage;
As in their place the weary carriage leaves,
And with Lucrece’ voice begins to say:
“For what will I do that the poor maiden will not see?
She that lives is her love, and her life is to be:
To the sun she cannot ill,
To the moon she never can ill,
But to the lion she shall never tame,
To the boar she never makes tame.
Thus, having lost thy sweet love in me,
I will give thee a place to live,
Or I will not give you a place to live.
Thy good qualities I did teach, my love to know,
For to her self-same thing was done.
‘To this she replies, ‘That thy true self
Will not kill the poor lamb that lives with thee;
The wolf and the boar, the boar’s mate, the wolf’s rider,
are the only breed of life that live in thee;
No creature, no man, no beast,
Is my life, thy true self, and I in thee;
For I, thy true self, die, and thou in my self.
And here again the maiden and the young lamb bear,
As though in them she herself should be bereaved.
But in my love’s bosom she herself should weep,
And then to the sweet lamb she should say,
That is my love, and thou in me,
And for my true love hath died;
And if thou were my love’s self still,
And thou thy self ever living, then thine own self is dead.
Then is that that verse of Lucrece translated,
“I do, I did kill, and thou did rape.”
‘”Ay, but not then, but for the love of thyself.
Love cannot do to thee what thou shalt not to thyself.
No man knows what to make thee so good,
That you may not live like to me that I should live.
Therefore by all my parts is my hope the light,
To live like a god, so that he may tell,
The poor fool that doth steal, and die with him.
So is the story of Lucrece’ death told,
From whose breast the sweet Lucrece that lives,
Wherefore I, thou art the child, thou art the life;
What do I to death that will be so cruel?
To the dead that will not be dead?
For that, in me, that is my life,
As thy life, in me thee is not to die:
As thy life, in thee is not to live dead.
In thee, this earth is my light,
That on thee my world is made a shining light,
That on thee my world is painted a pale,
So that in me the world I in thee is bright,
And in thee my world is bright in thee.
‘For love’s truth is all like to a stone’s gloss,
That every stain from a well-built glass doth hide,
If by a thousand shadows from the spot be hid.
“What then then? what is thy truth,
that I will never lie or boast,
that I will not kill,
That I will not curse,
And, for love’s sake, never do I murder,
That I love not death with my life,
Nor death with my love’s life’s life.
Yet let love do what thou hast sworn
To do unto thyself, and then thou shalt not steal;
For thou hast sworn, I swear, and thou shall not steal.
This


======== CHECKPOINT 025 OUTPUT # 004 ========

cruising-fast, that he did do well.
She takes his hand, but she touches it no more.
She takes his hand, and she is afraid that he hath been deceived with her.
“Thou shalt not murder,” she saith;
And from her lips he speaks:
‘This vile devil, this false lord of this day
He’ll not give me the strength of my will,
The power of my will to defend you,
The light of my will, and of my will to thee:
Thy will, my will, and thy will, and thy will’s strength shall be
With the earth’s force and in my will,
Of my will, the air’s force, and my will’s strength in thee.
“And yet there was this deep thought which I did behold,
That I should weep for thee, for me, for my love,
For this, my will, and my will’s strength in thee.
And yet now he speaks; and then she shakes her head,
And bids him give her this oath of love:
The devil, the fiend, the idol of love:
Who will betray his true self for thee,
And rob me of my good will?
‘Let not the maid’s eye, the queen’s eye,
That looks on my lusty face, that looks upon my husbandry,
My love, my love, my love,
To love and be reconciled for ever!
Let not my fear of thy false love,
That makes my will, my will’s strength,
That shall make your will, and your will’s strength
Against me, your will, your will, your will, your will’s strength
Against me, your will, your will’s strength, your will’s strength
Against me, your will, your will’s strength, your will’s strength!
Let not my fear, your fear, your fear, your will’s strength,
Against me, your will, your will’s strength, your will’s strength!
Let not my jealousy, your jealousy, your jealousy,
Against me, your will’s strength, your will’s strength!
Let not my jealousy, your jealousy, your jealousy,
Against me, your will, your will’s strength, your will’s strength!
Let not my jealousy, your jealousy, your jealousy,
Against me, your will, your will’s strength, your will’s strength!
Let not my jealousy, your jealousy, your jealousy,
Against me, your will, your will’s strength, your will’s strength!
let not my jealousy, your jealousy, your jealousy,
Against me, your will’s strength, your will’s strength!
Let not my jealousy, your jealousy, your jealousy,
Against me, your will, your will’s strength, your will’s strength!
Let not my jealousy, your jealousy, your jealousy,
Against me, your will, your will’s strength, your will’s strength!
Let not my jealousy, your jealousy, your jealousy,
Against me, your will’s strength, your will’s strength!
Let not my jealousy, your jealousy, your jealousy,
Against me, your will’s strength, your will’s strength!
Let not my jealousy, your jealousy, your jealousy,
Against me, your will, your will’s strength, your will’s strength!
Let not my jealousy, your jealousy, your jealousy,
Against me, your will, your will’s strength, your will’s strength!
Let not my jealousy, your jealousy, your jealousy,
Against me, your will’s strength, your will’s strength!
Let not my jealousy, your jealousy, your jealousy,
Against me, your will’s strength, your will’s strength!
Let not my jealousy, your jealousy, your jealousy,
Against me, your will, your will’s strength, your will’s strength!
Let not my jealousy, your jealousy, your jealousy,
Against me, your will, your will’s strength, your will’s strength!
Let not my jealousy, your jealousy, your jealousy,
Against me, your will, your will’s strength, your will’s strength!
Let not my jealousy, your jealousy, your jealousy,
Against me, your will, your will’s strength, your will’s strength!
Let not my jealousy, your jealousy, your jealousy,
Against me, your will’s strength, your will’s strength!
Let not my jealousy, your jealousy, your jealousy,
Against me, your will, your will’s strength, your will’s strength!
Let not my jealousy, your jealousy, your jealousy,
Against me, your will, your will’s strength, your will’s strength!
Let not my jealousy, your jealousy, your jealousy,
Against me, your will, your will’s strength, your will’s strength!
Let not my jealousy, your jealousy, your jealousy


======== CHECKPOINT 025 OUTPUT # 005 ========

vans and other objects.
The light, she told him, ‘is bright, and there is a sun that doth stand upon it, and with this white he walks with his hand,
And yet by his will he sees nothing else than a black;
For he is not yet blind, but he seeeth that he is not blind;
In other words, thou art, that thyself is the true self;
And all thy life doth have that power of beauty,
And so it doth give thee some beauty to excuse thee,
That which in thy heart doth make thee better than thy wonted self;
Wherefore she shows thee in the night, where thou wilt see me
In this bright night, in thy face, in thy bed:
Or what I said is true in others,
But in me there is true, and in you there is true.
‘But to thee do I cry: ‘O thou art thy slave!’
Thou art my master, and yet I never know my love.
And why should not she show, by her eye,
The wound that her eye, which makes the wounds worse,
With such gentle touch is eased?
She did, as before she told it, but her lips did not seem,
The stain was so deep that there seemed not his part;
Yet still she kept her oath, as if she would die,
And did not seem dead, but would leave the grave for this kiss:
Thou art my self, my self thou art, and not my self
That doeth more than others’ wills;
And in me thou art my self, my self thou art,
I am thy self, and not my self that did doeth
Thy will, thy will, thy will that did doeth.
For he did say this, in the night’s night,
And when she could not see her eyes, nor hear them,
he fell down and doth hearken, his heavy voice,
That the clouds would cover him with his thoughts:
He goes on weeping, and bids his horse neigh;
That the horse beheld the clouds, and did stand,
His voice was as that of a lion,
That he should see the fair daffy:
For why should I weep? I did not cry:
Even so he did say, ‘Let’s see thee again,’
And she did not hear him say this:
‘No, no, no, no,’ he replied;
She saw him, and smiled with him:
‘Look how the snow takes on all the snow,
And the white-green-red dolour of the day:
I could not stand it by myself: I did not care for it;
If I did, it would be as though the world were no more,
That it should still hold, with a proud heart
And then with the world as the world is, that I might not be,
For my life was for all others in my heart.
And now she had seen the picture of the fair fair daffy,
And in it the angel of fair fame did speak,
Who she perceiv’d as a maiden, and did her bow and thrust
Hiding it in the fair’s side:
Then did she weep, and sigh, and dost thou make her wail,
When thou wilt have done, for this I do ask
For thy will and for thy self’s sake.
But as he said, ‘Thy will,’ said he, ‘will not be done,
Till I have done, and the one from thee is done.’
For, ‘twixt thee and me thou shalt live,
And between thee and me thou shalt be lived,
And thou shalt live till I die.
That is why thou didst not die till I am gone.
And in this she said he, ‘Thou shalt not live till I am gone,
And in this thou shalt be dead;
For ever in all thy power shall it seem,
As all thy power in all thy will to live,
When I am dead, that ever my power must live.
That which thou didst do not make me live,
That ever mine will live in thee will be lived.
‘And when he had said this,’ she ran on,
And now she with his body was on her side;
her chin held out her hand, and she took it
As if she were in her arms, and when it was held out,
She gave it to her lord, and he did not kiss;
For though he do not kiss her mistress,
The poor thing’s blood shall stain her blood,
With all thy might I will blot out his name.’
And now she put on her head, and did pray
The night-god to put her face where


======== CHECKPOINT 026 OUTPUT # 001 ========

hijacked, or worse still, the traitor who breaks his oath; for the king is the instrument, both he and the traitor are guilty: hence this treason will not cease to be but thy crime.”
Then the tyrant doth make his foe a prisoner of his rage, and sets a knife to his neck, till, to put another prisoner to death, he will not relent:
Thus did she, with all her strength, do him no advantage.
‘If she did kill him,’ quoth he,’she would kill me!’
‘Hush,’ quoth she, ‘and let her lips make it seem,
That she herself was the offender of thee.
She, that I did love thee, shall ever slay me.’
Yet now she still stands in thy bosom;
Her tongue still rings, as she sings of thy sin,
And, with her, the king shakes his head, and in the way,
O blessed king, thou didst lend me hope,
And from thy side thine eye all my life had been spent,
With love’s light from thy sight was my light to see,
And light from thy eye light’d my sight to behold,
And light from thy side was light to see to see,
And light from thy side dark’d my sight dark’d my sight
That, in me, thou was the first to leave me,
Then did I beg, and beguil, and beguil still
To give more and more, and I am gone.”
‘Now that his spirit’s wound is done,
The queen bids her maid do her honour;
He bids her kiss her tender lips;
Her lips are tied together in love, and in mine are
One by one her tears, one by one each.
She calls him “a dear friend,”
And he, when she calls, “friends,” she calls, “sweet friend;”
For, when she calls, her eyes were white with tears;
Her lips were open, her face was cold, her nose was red,
Her brow was crooked, her chin out, her chin down,
Her neck was strong, and her waist towered above.
‘But now his mind hath done away, and no more,
The guiltless king cries, ‘O heaven’s god, my beloved wife!
Make me this night, for ever, and never end,
To live on this earth with the dead in my womb.
I’ll kill thee when I have slain thee,
For thou hast no breath of life, no breath of truth,
My body in thy womb I will bury,
Thy blood in my blood I will wipe,
But in thy blood will my life be wasted.
And now thou wilt live on that, to kill me,
And by that will I be buried in my grave,
And I that I have slain I shall live in thee.”
‘But my heart with all thy might,
What can I not say, that I love you so,
That when I hear your story, thou mayst bear it?
thou art the sweetest love that ever was,
Whose love I could not desire in thee;
All beauty that I have can no love express,
I can only say my love is this, that I will bear it,
My dear love, be thy constant guide,
To know when you do fall; when thou wast slain I’ll tell
thee thy death was thy life’s death,
Whose death I must know with my dying mind,
And with thy death know my self.
So you in a little way will, and yet in a little way I must,
Being free and in my self I have no love,
Nor can I in others be love, nor in me have no love,
To think myself any other than others that know me:
This last, my love, that thou canst love,
That shall not die, unless thou leave my love,
For with death is no love, my love’s dead,
As thou dost be dead, so be my love.”
But if I do love thee so,
My love, as I love thee, can never live again,
Nor by my love shall I live, for thou hast forsaken me.
‘Therefore love, as one so wise,
Under whose care thou wast taught thy love,
Thy reason’s precept, thy love’s precept, thy love’s precept,
Will I teach thy sweet art in thy name?
Thy love’s truth shall be taught, thy love shall be taught,
Thy art thy true, thy true art thou art,
Thy art’st not thy truth that hath not been proved,
That is not thy true nature, thy true form:
Thou art not my self, my self thy self,
And thou art mine own slave, and


======== CHECKPOINT 026 OUTPUT # 002 ========

ULAR of the world in this world, and the world in my own, and all in me.
I do love thee, and thy body and all thy part.
“That which thou lov’st, this that I dost begone
In this thou shalt die: so shall my life and all mine.
The hour of my death is nigh: my death is nigh.”
‘Yet by thy will I do this: but I have no strength,
For what purpose my will can do this?
Whilst he by her will to her will do her will,
Thy hand shall do this, and the other shall do it;
And, behold, my friend hath drawn a deep breath,
And I have a look; and the air from my mouth is warm,
And every part of my being breathes with a calm air.
For I cannot abide his foul odour,
Which for that doth stain every wound I make.
What will I do to be revenged,
But not your life, for it is my life,
I will kill thee; and the next time thou shalt kill me.
‘”Thus spake she, till she began to laugh;
The night he was in the bath-tub, and the morning was asleep,
That he saw his pale face; and he dote on her,
And said: ‘My beloved, thou shalt not betray,
Who in thy sight hath sinned by thy beauty.’
For her he kept her word: ‘My daughter, thy love is my shame,
Thy love I should kill, but thine is dead,
And thou in thy heart’s blood doth life still.
And his breath she doth smoke, and his face doth turn pale,
And his lips his lips pale; and they seem to him all but tears.
What a beauty was her beauty, so she woos him:
Yet his cheeks he takes out, and his hand she picks up,
And she tears the red glass in which the blood was
Whose spill’d like water from a boat-tongued man;
And her cheeks she puts on, and her lips white:
And his eyes in her are fair and deep,
And with them in her face do seem white,
Like to them in the ocean, where they lie.
And when she was going, Lucrece came and saw her,
Her beauty is a miracle and beauty a lie,
And though he look as he did, though no eye would see him,
He saw her eyes, and there they are with her:
And now she, as if with a moan, exclaims aloud,
‘Let us go, and I will take a horse.’
But Lucrece’s eyes and his cheeks,
His cheeks as if he were bloodied, his cheeks as if they were full,
His cheeks as if he were dead; and in his lips were run down,
His cheeks as if they had been made fair.
O have pity on Lucrece! how dost thou not look on him,
But on me, and all my love’s kind?
His love is mine, and my love is thee:
His love is mine, and all mine is mine,
And mine in him is my love;
That thou mayst think I love, thou mayst not love me so;
Since thou art mine, and all the world’s parts,
He is his love, and all their parts his love:
If thou wilt not love, and wilt not find his love,
Or else thy love, thy love, and mine,
Then I do, by force, but thou art mine.”
‘And if thou wilt wilt, and thou wilt wilt still,
Then I do not love thee, and do not love me so,
But this, and this thou didst make,
And that this, and this thou didst make,
I do not love thee, and am not my lover,
But the one whom thou gavest me,
And that which thou gavest me, and all the world’s parts,
That which thou didst make,
And all the world’s parts which thy loving love doth lend.
Now thou wast this, and thou art mine,
That I know thy spirit is good, and is thou my love,
And that thou dost love me, I am my love.’
He stops, and her frowning brows with a gouty face.
“That which thou didst make, and thou hast made it,
Which of thy sweetest qualities thou didst make,
And all thy beauty which thou didst make,
That thou made all beauty good,
And all thy beauty good,
And all thy beauty evil,
And all thy beauty evil,
Which all these


======== CHECKPOINT 026 OUTPUT # 003 ========

senal.

“Let her remain!” quoth she,
With a cry of discontent:
The sun’s shining hour, the earth’s fair night,
Is forlornly upon their heads, and they fly.
“Where can I find you where I know not?” quoth she,
What do you see? I never saw them there,
But sometime I saw you and, like a fawn,
And sometimes I saw you as you were.
“O, thou who art the best to mine sight,
I am poor, poor in my needs,
The sun to my sight is thy main object.
Who should bear the burden of a thousand miles thy self,
To show my virtue by my self in the sight?
When I have no self-love and no self-love,
O thou whom art the best to me, lend me a little help;
For thou art my self-love, and thou art my self,
Who, to thy own sake, should say no to my self?
But I will, in thee, that thy self should tell.
My self being my self, I in thee,
And thou in me in me as in thine,
Thy self is not mine, and not thy self’s,
But as thou didst write and mine thou didst write.
My self, being myself, is thy self;
Then my self is thy self, my self my self,
All in me I make this self the self.
Thus it is that I see thy self as being,
And my self as thy self is thy self.
For the love I love thyself,
In the self I love myself as in thee.
The self I love myself, in thee as in me.
I have in thee my self as my self in thee,
And my self as thy self in thee as in me,
And my self as thy self in thee as in me,
The self I love as thy self in thee,
And thy self as thy self as thy self in thee,
Is mine own self as thy self as my self in thee,
Is mine own self as mineself as mineself in thee;
O my self, which was in my self?
Who dost thou my self think not,
When I am so far removed from thy self,
And from thy self so far removed from thy self,
that thou thy self may behold thy self there?
(My self, though thy self be in thee,
Thou hast no self but thyself on thy self,
Nor yet self to self thy self,
O self that is in thee, but that thou me,
Thy self, though thy self is in thee,
Till that self thy self be thy self and my self thy self,
Is mine own self as mine own self as mine self in thee.
In thy self didst thou write and mine thee write;
And mine own self as mine own self as mine self in thee
In my self thou lov’st my self, and mine self in thee;
For thou lov’st mine self, but mine self in thee.
If thou then lov’st me then I cannot,
Thou lov’st not me, thou lov’st not my self,
Thou lov’st my self, but mine self in thee.
“To this, she replies, “No more, for I will live,
And in the time of thy desire thy sight will be absent.”
“But I fear not, for my love is no sooner dead,
Nor ever did I fear thee more than once;
So I have never dined on my self that so I did,
Thou must ever have seen mine own worth,
And mine own worth would be worth in thy self a thousand fold.”
“O, if there is not a heaven where thou art,
Then how much greater a world, but a few livings,
Than in that space of my self’s self thou wast born!
Even so, though I die, yet my life should be in thy face,
To live on my self and on thy self’s self’s self;
But that to live upon thy self and on thy self’s self be,
Like thee on earth as on a mountain doth stand,
O then with thy self on earth thou art slain,
And yet my life be mine, and thy life be thy self,
To live in my self as the earth upon thy self doth stand.
So the world that thou dost desire to rid,
And all his will to the ends of his wills,
Thy mind with his will to destroy;
O my self, with my will to the ends of his wills,
With my will to the ends of his will,
with my will to


======== CHECKPOINT 026 OUTPUT # 004 ========

rebuilt but then it is no longer there,
For now it is there; and yet when I say so,
So am I with you, if I be not so,
Or so be I with you,
If I be so, then I am with thee;
If I be so, then you will be with me;
If not, then you are your own fault.
He that hath his queen will take her away,
And shall reign as king with his queen;
Her dowry will be in his hand,
He shall reign as his queen with all his majesty.
‘Who can say this, whose name is still more known
O that which thou hast not seen?
The sun was on the face, yet the moon was on the rest;
The stars were on the night, yet they were in darkness;
And I with your light, with your light,
So long have I sworn a vow, and have sworn a vow to stay.
The day I set in thy sight, thy day will now end.
But I do vow that thou wilt do that which thou wilt,
That thy beauty may thrive in all of my care,
And in all my will, and thy will I never see,
Or ever be in love, nor ever be bereft of thee,
As thy good will was, your will was, and my will will is,
And that is my will.
Thou shalt not give to him what thou wilt lend,
Nor shall I make the lease of his blood,
For thou shalt not pay him what thou canst pay me.
O thou coward, with a passion of desire,
If thou dost not see the fair, and in his face
All his grace and truth would lend her away,
With his fair grace to be buried in him.
His face would not be so fair as mine;
That is for his glory not so,
As mine to be mine alone.
If this be not so, then there are no fairs,
And no fairs nor fairs,
Who are but shadows to thee, the shadows in me.
And this I will plead for his sake,
And not him to be thy foe.
‘If thou wilt see this thy will I will excuse;
And then will I show thee a night’s sleep,
Upon the threshold where thou art in his woe.
“So it was, that I was once a prisoner;
And in prison did he hang himself,
And with tears fell from his lips he went;
And to the fire he cast his eye,
And in the fire burned him from his seat,
Who by this did fall into the fire,
Which again did not fire again but woely doth lie.
‘”He that was in his prison fell,
And in prison did he burn himself with burning fire;
For he had no excuse but in despair:
Now it is my will that in the first he falls,
And to the rest I must fight this torment:
He that is in his prison did fall;
O where hast thou found me guilty of so,
That thou havest made my night a new night,
Or dost thou prove me to be thy woe,
When in thy place thou art thy woe, thou dost love to my sight;
O where art thou in the world where thou art that hateth,
Yet love can never bear me alive,
That life be thy true shame, that death thy shame?
O, my self, where are thy lives but those which die,
That are my sins my guilt to live?
For death hath never died nor the dead dead be,
And ever life was dead and dead had never been,
And ever life was dead and dead had never been,
And ever life was dead and dead had never been.
Yet now he speaks of thy shame,
And in him all thy shame is expressed;
When this shame shall be put in remembrance,
He hath his pride of being slain,
And now he is his shame in thy shame,
Then your griefs are my guilt’s pleasure,
Whereon do I think the day my guilt is laid?
Do not think these in your thoughts,
As mine own guilt in yours are:
Since mine own guilt, you were mine,
For I was your slave; now your slave you are,
My fault your fault now your fault your fault.
His love, his self-love, his self-love
When they meet at the right hand of mine,
They look on me in scorn, and their eyes with tears,
‘Ah!’ quoth he, ‘why hast I not been,
And when my self hath not yet died,
And when you have not yet begun to die,
And wherefore hast thou not


======== CHECKPOINT 026 OUTPUT # 005 ========

dile,
And when I did kiss the poor thing,
My loving eyes were still so open,
And tears of joy seemed to flow down their cheeks.
O where are my tears, thou wilt ask;
Why hast I no self-love,
Thou wilt not lov’st aught I am poor,
In spite of thy love’s spite:
And though I have in my self, thou hast not a self,
Thou art a slave to my self,
And my self to my self I am guilty,
For not that I know, but for the sake of your life
Thy self to my self is so true,
That my self to my self I am unworthy,
Thy self to my self I am so poor,
And yet thou art still, and yet I am poor,
And yet thou art still, and yet thou art still,
Thy self to thy self I am so true,
And yet I am not yet dead,
And yet thou art still, and yet I am dead,
Therefore thou art not dead, but dead,
To whom art thou now thy self, to whom is thy self so welcome:
And for my sake and all my love,
I beg of thee so pure a kiss shall live.
‘”So I’ll be contented with this, and not with this,
I’ll have no pleasure in the matter,
Even where I do love you.”
She was silent; but she did kiss, and by the kiss she said,
‘”When I think of you, there’s no desire,
And yet I have in my thoughts thoughts,
That I’ll think of you for you,
And yet love you more than that I think you to be,
Though it not at all like your picture.
She smiles, and her voice is quite loud:
‘Dear angel,’ she cries, ‘if ever thou livest,
My body is strong and proud, my soul strong;
I’ll defend thee in the earth, as in the sky;
For you have done my poor self no injury:
And I will kill thee, that thy self may prove,
For thou art mine, my self and to thee I are,
As I am all in you all, I am with thee all;
If thou wilt live, I’ll kill thee.’
“That, if thou be bereft of my love,
My soul shall kill me, and my heart shall be bereft.
‘And yet you will not kill, nor will I kill,
I’ll kill you all; my life and my soul,
Mine eye’s beauty is but an eye’s wound;
In the eye of a thousand eyes is thy beauty.
Love will never kill thee, nor thou shalt slay me;
Love will never kill thee, nor thou shalt slay me;
Yet I will not kill thee, nor thou shalt slay me;
My life shall be thy glory, my life my pride.
Yet you will not kill me, nor thou shalt kill me;
My life shall be thy glory, my life my pride.
“Lo, let us hear, that thou wilt betray me;
The world doth hate me, I am a murderess:
My life must die, and that which I will not live.
To all eternity doth my name live,
And I will stand by and wait for the day to come;
Then that night she calls me Tarquin,
Who in a dream doth tell of her death,
And doth show how she did die,
For if thou wilt return, my death must be free,
And all my lives would be spent as for thee;
But that, so I have been in this world,
My love is mine, my love is thy own,
I love thee all, all I ever saw was love;
Even so I see my beauty, now and again,
As thy beauty when still you were, is gone.
‘Look,’ quoth she, ‘a mortal eye doth dally,
Though it doth blind, yet doth see;
And yet thou art blind in my sight,
My sight doth not see what thou dost see,
No, that blindness doth know of thee,
For behold thou art but a mortal eye,
My sight doth see nothing but a shadow:
‘O,’ quoth she, ‘do not compare thee
with a mortal being,
And as thou wilt not behold the form of my face,
Let my love compare thee; thou wilt not compare,
Thou wilt not compare with thy beauty doth compare,
For mine eyes doth see nothing but shadows,
And mine eyes doth see,
My beauty doth see nothing but shadows,
Thou wilt not compare with thy beauty


======== CHECKPOINT 027 OUTPUT # 001 ========

parsing with an end for the story that he can never tell,
And when he must, he will lie, and to himself make it come true.
For if he are true, what a fool is he?
If he are false, what a fool is he?
Then no such fool doth he dare lie;
As when he takes him in his hand, in his bosom,
Sings, ‘O thy poor creature, why canst thou never live again,
Or live even to the shame of my sins?
What is my fault, what was my fault then?
My fault is my fault not in thy wrong;
O for me thy fault is thy fault, my fault in thy wrong,
Thy self thy self thy self’s fault in thine own fault.
No, do not say I am dead, and that thou art dead:
No, but be not so; for thou art dead, and my self’s fault in thy wrong.
O, that thou wilt live again, and live to be,
That to me thy self, and me thy self, be
To live in one, to live again in another:
Yet by this I do not say, I will be dead,
For by this I must die;
And yet this life, my life, as many as I know,
Is not the living life of me, but a living death:
For love hath no more effect than death to wear away,
O why should the sick die but of their own cure?
Thy life’s purpose is to give them a cure;
They that like thee die, and in me die.
O why did I not bewitch thee that I did
Wear thy life’s end and death’s end?
What art thou to blame for the present state of thy life?
O that, by thy side, did I bewitch thee that I had
A life so long spent, or the life of such a woman?
O no, but do my dear friend’s sake give me a grief,
Since that thou art his, and that thou didst not wish me well,
And my friend hath given me this death, and I am dead.”
‘”Thou art so good,” quoth she; “I have not done to deserve it.”
“No, no, no,” quoth she; “your father did kill me,
And you my son, and I your bastard.”
‘”No, no,” quoth she; “I do not like to see you die;
That I did kill you was for your sake,
and your self I do not like to see you die.”
‘”No, no,” quoth she; “I do not like to see you die;
That I did kill you was to kill your self,
If you would live to see your self die,
And be dead to hear him be dead.”
‘”Then do not I, that I may be buried,
Thou art buried in thee in my bosom,
For thou wast my father, thy husband, thy husband’s slave,
Thy beauty’s stain shall bleed to the stain of thy death:
Then let my living friends be, and I be buried,
So to my living friends I should live,
And I should die, and die in thee.”
‘She goes on, but no longer with tears,
Nor any lasting groans nor sighs.
Her words had the effect which she had in mind,
So did she say, and yet no groan;
She might as well say that a stone was left there,
She might as well say that the earth was razed,
For that was done in her husband’s image,
To make him seem like his wife in the matter;
He was a queen in the earth, a queen of the sky,
And was the chief god of many kings,
And of many princes all, in one,
To show his own rank and his rank-noted glory,
Or to show the pride of princes and their rank,
Who, by his rank alone, are his subjects,
With their subjects, in all things, their majesty.
He did not speak, but all ears of ear heard him say.
He made a groan, and it grew so deep:
His words and operey were as one operey had,
In succession; not in succession
But as one operey was, another,
Each from one operey in succession would seem,
As one in succession did grow,
And from each operey in succession,
By this same increase he seemed to grow,
A thousandfold faster, and farther,
And farther again, and farther,
Like a thousandfold drum, with the sounds he made,
Making the world


======== CHECKPOINT 027 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Rudd on the matter and told him he would never be so much like her,
Or that she did make him proud of him.
“What are you doing?” quoth she, “taking his hat and leave it,
That I will spend my leisure in your honouring?
How much more then for my own sake can be your gain!
The hours will be of constant labour,
And every minute that I spend in your favouring,
will be your own time and mine yours,
You to me your most perfect treasure;
I have a son who knows what he is, and he his love to me,
And to your true love, I have all but you;
A wife who is my best friend, my love my heart,
And to her that to me is best is best:
My love hath no cause to fight, neither reason to fear.
I have so much to say about myself, that my words are heard,
And all things that make me love you are my words;
I can’t write for love’s sake, I cannot tell you what you want,
nor your worth that I know,
You to me am your self, you to me I know only well,
And to your self I can never know,
I can no self-love nor self-love you to say,
You are mine, and nothing else but mine is love.
I can’t bear the thought that I shall love you,
Unless the other in me am to steal you away;
If your love is your worst, my love is mine.”
“No, no!” quoth she; “my love is mine alone.”
“No,” quoth she; “if you like, come and see
That white-rimmed visage I make you my friend,
And that red-rimmed visage I make you friend.”
Thus did she begin to speak of his love,
And yet he would not cease:
Nor did she break her silence, nor dally:
She did, as she had once done, to put on a veil
The dark of night, and the light of day,
Each part of her face concealed the deep shame of death.
“My love,” quoth she, “have I been thy wife for twenty
And have I no one else to call my friend,
But as one of many, I do swear I have her to thine own head;
That she in thee I will confine to thy place,
And, to your memory, I’ll enclose thee in bed,
And sometime sometime sometime in mine, I’ll see your heart.
When then do you dream that that you may know
your self’s true love? When then do you look for your self’s sake?
If you can, I’ll kiss you in love, and then you my friends,
To be my best friend, and yet to be your worst?
“My love,” quoth she, “you are my friend and to love you my best,
Make love to me, for love is sweet,
And be that which I love be kind, if in love I will not love thee.
When love is like a woman, you have all the glory;
But you are not that kind, when all your things are to blame.
If, when love is like men, you have all the glory,
And women all the blame, you do all the blame;
When I love all things I love none of them.
I love no men in your nature,
As that you love my love, my love’s worth is mine alone;
But you love them in themselves, that your love may be mine alone:
Thou art my love, and mine own are mine own.
If thou wilt say, “Love is love,” then I do swear
That thou art not alone.”
But what a strange thought to suppose that
A boy so strong should dare to play with such a strong boy,
That in a short space of time he should be beaten?
That to do him shame would seem so unkind
That he should think twice, and he should smile,
A thousand times as often as this poor fool will smile.
For thou art as thou didst me steal from thee,
Which I did steal from thee, and thou didst me betray.
But thou wilt say, “Look what I will do to do thee good.”
This I shall bear true and not false;
The heart I will hold dear will bear false and true,
The eye I will bear false and true,
the tongue I will bear false and true,
The heart I will bear false and true,
The tongue I will bear false and true,
The heart I will bear false and true,
The eye I will bear false and true,
The tongue I will bear false and true,


======== CHECKPOINT 027 OUTPUT # 003 ========

ochem have the means, the means, the means to effect their will, and in the time they themselves make use of it.
“They will not force their wills, or use their will, to force what is best, or what is best, in any way in their power.
They will never make their wills their own, or use their will for their own sake;
And as they will not make their wills their own, so their will is their own.
Then are they their own slaves, they to be sold;
Iniquity will not make them slaves of others’ will,
But when they possess their will, they are their own will,
And their will is their own will, and theirs it is;
They their own shall not their will be,
But they shall their own have.
The time, being past, that hath their place,
May come to spend and pay, for their part,
Th’ time is no short pause for their part,
Nor their part is any longer spent.
“They will not set their wills upon your will,
And therefore your will, your will be what I do with your will.
And by this I speak to a thousand times.
‘To make this, I will give it a constant force
To tie my will to you, to control you,
To restrain you from my will that your will might do,
To make you that which my will did control;
To make you my slave, my slave that my will might do,
to force you to my will that your will do,
To make you my slave, my slave that your will might do.
No, my will will will do, my will be your slave,
And your will be your slave when you live,
By your will I will say so, your will be your slave when you die,
My will be your slave when you die, your will be your slave when you live,
So my will live when you die, and yours live,
And yours live by your will being dead,
But mine will live by yours being dead,
And yours live by yours being dead.
‘Then you were to hear how a Roman nun,
The second husband, so sweet of your kind,
Would put up your life in her image,
Which in a tomb which now is consecrated
Than that beauty still doth keep your soul.
By thy will, thou shalt live and die.
As long as thou livest in this earth,
I’ll be thy friend, and thou shalt live in me,
The world to come.
“But as you may, I will let thee go,
Since if I could live, I should love you.
‘”So I say unto you a false report,
That the sun might set my love and my love’s decease,
And be kinder than thou didst wish!
O, dear love, there is a heaven,
To make my love a sweet one,
And love’s decease to sweet love is gone,
And as love’s decease is gone away,
so is love’s decease gone,
And love’s decease to love’s decease is gone.
And therefore love should be my love,
I’ll stay here and there till you take my place.”
‘So now he gives me a good kiss
My love so dearly she might well blush;
Now she looks with disdain on him,
Then, behold, she hath the eyes of his lust,
And with eyes full of lust, he thrusts the knife,
That shall not destroy his intent.
“Then look what I am about to say
In those sad times that I will yet see you smiling;
If I can still read it, then you may not be so sad
That you may in my name be so sad.
This is my dear and most solemn vow,
To you I will make this your end,
Even as a kiss is made to some man
Sweet words, but with some strong instrument to persuade.
The world to come, my dear wife, and live
My life to die with you, my dear wife,
What shall I say but to live, and die with you,
When that world to come might, and die with you?
O that heaven should have thine blessed eyes
That would not deceive me of a false eye,
For I am thy angel, the holy one,
And in my angel’s name thy virtue shall shine,
And your virtue shall shine with your virtue.
“Since love doth the thing love best,
How can I say that your being made perfect
is better than my being made perfect?
Or that I being your self are not your self,
And that you are your self is worse than being you
If I being you be worse than being I be?
Love being


======== CHECKPOINT 027 OUTPUT # 004 ========

ame from that very thing:
For he would not leave the place where he was slain,
But would betray the love of life to his foe.
For he who lives, but dies, must give the poor place his light:
But to love he dies with death:
And now that his life is done,
That life’s end is near, and the light is gone.
To him the story is well told, and now no more need be
A sad story, where no more need be a sad story.
But why should I say I love thy self,
Thy self was no better than mine? I love thee, too,
O my dear boy! to thee shall I die,
But never live thy self nor thy self again.
“I will not leave thee, my love,” quoth she;
And yet the day will come that thou dost give up thy love:
That doth her husband’s love bring the night to naught.
‘”Thou art the sweetest flower in heaven,” quoth she, “and, from thence,
The light should go out for thee to see:
Till then shall he return, but never find me.”
So she did and was forced to be silent;
She did not like this act, she did not like that she was told,
but that she would be deceived,
To be sure there were true and true men,
And yet none of them had the sweetest kiss.
‘And if thou art the sweetest flower in heaven,
Whose love I will love, what love I shall kill
And never think of thee again;
And yet thou wast my friend and I have no love left,
Which is love, but it is rotten, rotten, rotten;
Whose hand he lays in the way of truth,
And whose cheek lies in the way of love,
And which his lips on the other side
Save in his mouth is painted the picture that is most worthy.
(Thou lovest my love; thou lovest mine;
Mine is the better picture; mine is worse;
Mine is better, the worse is the better.’
‘Then do these poor nuns who have done their duty,
O say these poor nuns I love thee, thou art thy friend;
And do I, and I will, make thee my friend.
Yet I love thee so much, O dear friend, that thou willst hate me;
O dear friend! I love thee so much, and my love shall live;
That I shall be his constant friend,
For he in his constant love shall be dead,
And never be found again in my eyes,
And not his will to do me such a good end.
‘Then why do we stay here, that the time’s wind may blow?
A thousand hearts with two wills, a thousand eyes,
That in themselves could do both good and ill.
And in all this I do say:
“Look at her, then how far she bends me;
Look at her, then how far she bends me;
Look at her, then how far she bends me;
Look at her, then how far she bends me;
Look at her, then how far she bends me;
Look at her, then how far she bends me;
Look at her, then how far she bends me.”
“How false are these words; true is it,
The true is it, and yet thou dost deceive.
‘O, dear friend, if not my love’s end,
A thousand tongues that do change me are more than ears;
To hear the same tongue again, and every tongue,
My ears do change one another’s speech:
Thy hand is to me as mine own is to thy friend;
But thou art my friend and mine mine, mine is thy friend;
Thou art mine, mine is mine, mine is thy friend.”
So now she lies upon a steeply stone bed,
And in his arms she sits weeping,
Thy eye being the one to see,
So in his breast I did weep, for he was my friend.
But I did not love him, but he did love me;
For I knew that he did love me, and so did I;
So now, on a steep bank,
The air turns green and doth cool the sweat.
When did love die and be buried?
Thou art dead, now thou wilt be,
And then what?
He that doth die to me he shall stay;
And in him that doth live he shall live;
And in him that doth live thou shalt live;
But he shall not live, for I am dead,
And thou shalt live, that thou art dead,
Thy will live, that thou art dead,
And thou shalt


======== CHECKPOINT 027 OUTPUT # 005 ========

ingle, which to me as a lovely glass is the most precious thing:
And all this, for lack of a good glass, hath she in her lips doth lend it:
That from her glassy locks she opens to the rain,
And from her golden glass she lays.
And from her golden glass she lies, and yet still
She doth not mend her bed,
She doth mend, and yet she doth not mend:
Her eyes do not look on her like men’s,
But all the world sees his ugly eyes,
And her eyes do not look like the sun like men:
And like fools, their eyes seem not to live,
The stars do not abide his shadow,
But like fools, their eyes do not abide his sun.
‘And when Lucretius’ verse was read,
Her lips were filled with thoughts of a kind
With weeping; she with tears fell.
‘”If I were thee, I should tell thee why;
But what to you I should tell thee must be kept,
To thy lips I am as a queen,
Which to thee I am a husband;
To you I am your slave. ‘I say this with a gentle sigh;
And then I say, that thou wilt never be angry;
Unless thou wilt think that I am mad,
My shame will never be so strong
As to break the heart of a nun,
Or of a nun’s husband, or of a man’s.
He cannot be my foe, his love I will not be.
Thy eyes, my lips, thy heart, thy self-love,
In every part thereof belong’d shall be thy shame,
To be like unto myself in those parts,
That my face, my soul, thy head, thy tongue,
Each eye which touches thee receives thy tongue’s verdict.
When it is not true in me, but true in thee,
Then do not hate me for not being true to thee.
‘Tis true that thou shouldst swear false oaths,
And then shall not love thee so much as thou love’st true.
‘Tis true that thou shouldst lie so much as I do lie;
And then, lo, thou art thy fair maiden and dote,
To die before I know thee, shall kill thee at least.’
In this she says, in a hush,
‘Then let this thy verse stand, and bear witness;
My voice shall sing that thou art my friend,
O, thy heart that breathes thee cold and scorn,
That, like a wailing boat, my lips may bear it;
But with me this storm will blow away,
Even as a flood so shallow drowns,
A sea full of life that breathes no foul.
Love is not the earth, but the earth;
For in it there comes death, like a flood,
And then no life’s grace can drown it,
But death itself shall drown it, like a flood.”
O thou the lord of my heart!
thou my sweet, fair, and most gracious sovereign,
That thou shouldst do to all the world my sweet love!
Thou lov’st to make my heart tremble, to make it tremble anew;
Thou lov’st to tear me from the bed of my love,
Thou lov’st to make my heart quake with that which it fears,
Thou lov’st to shake the heart of my love,
And thou lov’st to break the heart of my love;
Thou lov’st to make my heart quake with that which it fears,
Thou lov’st to break the heart of my love,
And thou lov’st to break the heart of my love.
‘So what then is the reason why I,
The father and mother of a dear son,
That I may not then be a bastard?
What if I did be a bastard, what would I do?
What if I did be a bastard, what would I do?
What if I did be a bastard, what would I do?
Thou art my love, and I am my love,
And I am your love, I am your love,
And I am your love, I am your love,
And I am your love, I am your love,
And I am your love, I am your love,
Then my love is thy love, my love your love!
Then my love is thy love, my love’s love!
The one being love, the other thou art not thy love.
‘”O, that she could have made thee a nun,” quoth she,
And this she would, as one would call, a nun.
“And now he hath said, ‘O poor man, be gentle,’
The


======== CHECKPOINT 028 OUTPUT # 001 ========

apostle by the light that thou dost see in them;
Or else by thy beauty, thy self’s colour;
Or else by thy beauty, thy self’s self’s colour;
Or else by thy beauty, thy self’s colour,
And thus I dote on the false, to whom I say,
I did my self wrong by the light that thou dost see in them;
This false, this false didst betray thee.
“O my love, what shall it be to thy self that thou dost disdain,
What shall it be that thou dost hate thy own self,
And what shall it be, to kill thy self in the wrong,
That you so far from being your self do kill?
When in thy self’s shadow thou dost invert,
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
th’ shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it the night;
Thy shadow doth be thyself’s face, and thou dost make it


======== CHECKPOINT 028 OUTPUT # 002 ========

patriotic are thou, for thy worth is mine, and thou wilt do the work to prove that I am so!
The thought that you were made of some vile earth,
For what thy worth it is, my worth is mine,
Thou must have, and thou alone must have.
The world doth bear witness to all your beauty,
And beauty in thee, it gives you a good report.
Even so, in my mind he lies, like some devil that sleeps,
And in my heart a thousand wrinkles doth appear,
In spite of my love that so dear doth belong.
So do I then his fair, as much as my self be,
To do my best, and most of all to keep it happy.
This love, in my mind, I have writ,
So my poor tongue’s true words should seem a bit clearer
And that my poor palate might seem to rehearse,
The tongue that my poor tongue, that my dear tongue may read,
That my true tongue should writ so brightly as your,
That my tongue so richly, too large, would drown,
What more my praise should I make of thy name,
Then thou, too pure, in my praise would drown,
His praise, like all water’s foul blood, doth drown,
And in it doth drown in a river.
Now he speaks, and his eyes with eyes to his head
In a state of ecstasy seem’d to flood,
Which is thought to be some sort of heaven,
And where heaven’s fountain is, and where all eternity lie.
And his face, or his body’s visage,
Where the soul lies, or touches the ground,
Or is buried, the rest of eternity remain.
“Then would I die,” quoth she, “in my state of grief,
My soul was the cause, and mine soul the conclusion,
Which thou in thy body dost make thee die,
That thou mightst not in my body make me thy self.
Now I do my duty well, that thou mightst be my self.
‘Tis my duty, O daughter, to love you,
And not to hate thee that I hate thee.
She doth so say, and yet she looks upon him
As if he were guilty, and all doth say so,
That his thoughts and thoughts were in some offence;
He on this, and she on this,
She that hath no husband, nor father, nor mother,
But her eyes are in love, and her words are in hate.
Love, what hath it wrought on you,
Which you are by nature taught to see,
Which with your eye is seen by the world to see?
Or how can this, if you be so wise,
You shall see it, and that you will not?
If that were true, then it was fair,
And all in all was fair, and all fair,
That each of you could see every thing
That was unseen to you, and every thing well.
Then the verse from the Tarquin was made,
With my tears being thine eyes’ tears,
To put them in their graves, or in their graves’ blood.
She that hath not had a husband, nor a husband’s wife
But he have none, nor wife, nor a husband’s wife
In spite of her all with a thousand fears
Against him hath never forsook her,
And if he should be made to be his husband again
No more is he but a slave to his master.
What else shall she say than, “No more!”
she cries aloud, for I have not been,
But have sworn to be thou her mistress,
And have thou me sworn to obey her will;
In thy will, in thy will, you shall have no law,
That can give thee the ground of this war,
To say ‘no’ again to me; for I swear,
That thou shalt never kill me.’
O, do not think to kill me, or else to say that;
‘”O,” quoth she, “you see what an offence
My love-sickness-despairing lust do I see,
And that my lusty desires are blunted,
And my love-sickness blunted I do love,
The earth, the sky, and all my subjects,
But to a thousand devils I say,
That your kind love do you fear,
That your kind love do I fear,
That mine own love is no more a sin,
But to me, your kind love is no more a virtue;
Since in me your kind, too late I did swear,
To swear your kind, your dear love was a false.
“So,” quoth she, “your love hath made me


======== CHECKPOINT 028 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Vintage, or better, by his good.
‘Why so, then,’ quoth he, ‘I did intend a summer of chastity to thee,
That I should in the end live a thousand miles in length.
Thou art not one, I know not thy shape,
For if thou didst, I must leave my poor husband to my death.
To know thy good, to know thy evil,
And to know thy life’s purpose, thou shalt know all.
His eyes, his ears, his lips, his tongue, his tongue’s parts.
Whose eye doth love the fair flower and the sweet,
And in him that hath not yet tasted,
And in him that hath never tasted doth taste;
And in him that hath, yet, he that hath still,
The best of them all is still, and in him none.
‘Thou art such a fool, that dost mock a queen
If thou shouldst kiss a slave’s heart, but should not kiss it again.’
“How would thou wert blind to love, when he doth love thee?
Thou art no better than a fool and canst not tell what is
Of him in the midst of woe?
In thy love is thy heart but a weak worm?
For mine eye hath no fear, and my tongue no fear.
But thou, sweet beauty, do it not by thee make;
Which all in vain shall I find for thee by night,
And thou alone that dost steal the jewel from me,
Thy true love, in thy heart, is so tainted with thy blood,
That I, for thee to be my own,
Will not know what thou hast committed to my love.
And so the young thief in the field
Thinly doth break the flower, and to her right doth hide.
What a world of deceits it was!
Thou art so much worse than thou art, and yet I think it true,
When thou shalt see the sun set,
Then all the better to set thee back to thy doom.
“In this wretched state of my mind
And in this mine am I a dull and a dull,
How can I be angry when I am the cause?
Or how can I be dumb when I am the cause?
How can I be silly when I am the cause?
What is there to love, then not to hurt,
If thou dost call it love alone?
Yet I was taught by nature that praise,
In one hand I love, and in the other
Like a proud turtle, I did fly to that turtle’s nest;
O what a fool would she say, when she did say this,
To make her praise in more respect,
Nor for her praise more praise should she place
Than in her own best self, since no better thing would
More praise than she did have with the world than she did make.
‘Now I see you, my dear, in his place
And from his earless paws I see the lion in distress,
Which, seeing me, says, ‘That is a wolf,
That in your night will not know where I am,
What I am and what I am not.’
And thou wilt find me there, and find me,
And if it be lost, find not where it is,
The wolf that calls it forth is lost, and the bear is lost.
‘Then what good dost thou do not see;
When thou wilt be the cause of that,
I do desire that thy soul should find
The thing he dost not dream, for his eyes are blind.
‘But for the sake of thy soul, I am no longer alive,
The soul of a dead man is lost, and the dead man dies.
But I have no longer the body to look upon,
The eye being in darkness, I am no longer alive,
The face to look upon, my beauty gone.
So this strange feeling doth in him arise;
And in this helpless rage he blasts
That which doth kill him all in an instant;
So at this he says, ‘Now I see my beauty in him gone.’
This he says in a low voice: ‘What didst thou tell me,
That dost thou hate and despise,
And do not love, and lo, it doth not delight,
Since that which it hath doth mock and mock,
And in your grief doth cry aloud, ‘Look how much worse
What is that! and thou dost love!
I will be revenged upon thee, thou hast doth love;
And in my blood thy honour is no stain;
But in thy blood thy honour is no stain.
Thy love is in my blood; my blood in thee is blood;


======== CHECKPOINT 028 OUTPUT # 004 ========

illustration with a fair-nurture charm of her self,
She would well know, that her fair self, by her wits,
To have done her fair self a wrong.
She would say that he was dumb, ugly, and full of disdain,
To his false eyes he doted on her, and so on
He saw her true colour to his eyes
But she would show him her true colour again,
With what she might say:
And here he would say to his friend, ‘Ah, fair Collatine,
If thou make the light of my face so bright,
And put all my face whereof the moon beareth
When thou dost not take all my fair self to my breast,
And all my fair self there with thee with me?
For all mine eyes in my heart are so fair,
That my fair self in thy fair self
Forsworn a thousand vows with so fair a mind
To love thee in my face would be more heinous;
Then thou dost in me steal their lives,
And thus my self in thy self doth lie.
“O,” quoth she, “let’s see what you say is true,
And, for my sake, let my fair self’s eye be made light:
For with thy fair self, as it were blind,
Who through thy fair self hath been crowned
For thee as the sun. ‘O yes! what a woe it must be,
To see what a thousand errors are,
That in thy self, thine own eye, hath lent,
But of thy fair self in thy self’s judgment,
With thy fair self in thy fair self’s judgment,
Thou fair, fair, fair, fair, fair, and true,
And all for naught in their own judgment can know.
Who would wish his neighbour so fair a bed?
Who should he fear so that his friend might lie?
What’s he to fear so so much in one’s self?
So that every eye is full of the shame?
O do not be so kind as to scorn one’s own eyes;
And if we have eyes to compare,
We can tell the truth, and that truth gives,
And not be so kind as to praise one’s own sight.
“Sweet Collatine,” quoth she, “look where I am from now,
For you have done me wrong; do not look for me again;
For I am your tutor to the children’s ears.
Now let me tell you, from where I was born,
I was not married.
But that which you have taken from me,
The true love you owe me will hold me fast;
I cannot bear the sight of your love,
And of it you should never come,
Because it hath grown and grown, and no more,
For I love you more than you do, and more of mine,
Than you know now I am dead.
Look, this will be my last: but when I die,
your love will not be for you but mine,
And all your shame and self-belief
Hath no more reason to kill me now,
When you are rid of me and I to-morrow:
O why forsake my best love,
For what is my best love, in thy sight so much disgrace?
O why should I not weep at the fair queen,
That I have the fairest breath, the more I cry,
and at her her, I have the worst of sorrow,
The world’s worst poison;
The world’s worst fear. (The rest be advised,)
O how dare I compare my soul to thee!
With thy beauty hath my love so deep
that my heart may be tempted to weep?
O what a false excuse do I have
to say, if I do complain?
To think that you all might tell me so.
“Ay, sweet Collatine, what a shame
To hear my voice call thee in this way.
“When you should like to sing again,
How shall I say that you are mine?
I have to say so in advance;
And what is your excuse for saying so?
Or is it that your love is your life?
For why did you come to me for my dear love?
I am a woman and love to you is your birth,
Love to you is the object of your pleasure,
Love to me is your birth in my body.
What is love, then, that you did invent?
Or is it that you do love me,
Or else you were but a creature?
Which thing then do you then do,
And are you that love what you are now?
To this, then my dear Collatine replies,
That by your grace you are true,
To what


======== CHECKPOINT 028 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Reward of the unprovoked, by the hand of that which is fair:
If thou shalt not give more, I’ll say so,
Thy friend that doth entertain me:
Whose side are you on in my discontent,
Whose eye I hold to be blind when thy head
Cracks? why not my eye, when my heart is deaf?
For when I behold thy love, my heart with shame,
Thy ear I hold with fear, thou’st mine,
And I am thy foe! ‘Tis his fault, and it’s no fault
That I love him so much that his love still
Thinks no farther but for his love.
‘Thy self, and thy self no fault,
The eye, if the eye, and the palate
Doth dote upon thee all, to thee is dote,
But thou that dost art my self doth art thy self,
But I being self, and thy self thy self dote,
O, what a poor creature hath my eye made me
Who dost dote upon thee with my own?
If then my heart’s interest should break,
How, to my grief, do I make it leave me?
And if so, in this my grief will lend thee thy help?
I am thy self and thy self in thee:
If that, and all my grief be true,
Let them that love thee, thou art my self;
And if thou art not thy self, then thou dost love me even more.
‘That is to say, my self, in my self love,
May I do this, my self that makes thee so.
I love to thee that made me so,
In every part of thy face,
And in every part of thy head,
The same sweet image thou that I hold to be so,
I will do this, mine own self may do
Thy own self to do with thee, thy self alone.
I will do this, my self in thy self will do,
A thousand fold more to the love of my self,
Thy self, and thy self to thyself,
And to myself as thine own self,
Thy self, and thy self to me,
And for love’s sake that was thy self,
A thousand fold more to the love of my self,
To thine own self for my own sake:
But my self and thy self do not keep;
And mine own self with my self to be,
Thy self to mine own self for my own sake,
My own self to thee, thyself alone thyself:
Thus it is, ‘twixt me and him in scorn:
That he looks upon me as a thief,
That doth he dare to steal his name,
And then to rob him of his name would he slay,
And to rob him of his true name would he drown;
As thou wast stealing from thee, and dost rob of thy name,
And to rob him of thy true name doth rob him of all.
And so it is, ‘twixt me and him,
Wherewith, ‘twixt me and him,
He turns to his sword, and looks,
Like a man who was slain by a boar,
with his head down his sword he lays his head
Whereon the boar, with his head in his side,
Shows his skill in hunting by the boar’s sharp teeth,
Saying, ‘Look what a fool that doth stand in wait!
What a man, that ever his eyes have seen,
Shows his strength in the field to catch the bait;
And how much greater a strength it would be
if he could see his horse,
Whose side of the field a mouthed pheasant lay,
Then as he was grazing, a boar,
He began to ride away, and chase it;
Yet on the bushes the gentle bird would chase
The horse and rider with speed,
And in the chase would they have their lives.
‘”I hate,” quoth she, “all sorts of grossities in me;
And it seems to me that I have too much,
That all my foul deeds were made worse by my fair blood.
That this vile offence that I have engrafted,
Sets this false pride in my soul,
Which is as much my fault as his own,
So my praise of thee can not live in me.
O, my dear friend, I did not sin!
To my sorrow was I so sorry;
To my distress I did not know,
Nor knew that I was so.
But I have no shame in this,
Because my love for thee cannot stop,
If my love should kill him and give him his.
‘And now


======== CHECKPOINT 029 OUTPUT # 001 ========

monsters to show their worth.
‘And how many more thy favours shall my love draw thy eye?
Who on thy face will bear such a sight!
Thou alone art such a lover,
Which all eyes will behold, all eyes are eyes to thee,
Yet when thou see’st thou know’st how far thy love goes.
Look where thou dost see my love, where thou dost not behold it,
Or where thou dost not behold my dear body’s wound:
But look on my life, my dear love’s wound!
Look what life hath wrought in me, my dear friend’s wound!
Why dost thou not look on my blood and weep,
And yet do not weep for thy love?
For if thou dost weep, how can I please thee,
And if thou dost be so kind, why shouldst thou be angry?
‘O love! love hath not death but life,
But death hath life and life neither death nor death:
Thus am I told, ’tis all death, and I am not dead.’
What are they, then, that do torment thee?
Where’s thy treasure thou hast buried, and where is thy mind?
What dost thou think of such a treasure?
‘I once saw the fair lady whose face I have pictured,
And the sun that gave it life!
Whence did she stop and kiss the earth?
Whence did she stop and kiss the ground?
Her pale face did nothing to remove;
Her red lips, as white as snow, did not stain;
As snow she did not stain, like silver in the sun,
But in the glowing blue of heaven’s sun.
She took him by the arm, and her hand he threw.
Her eyes were full of tears, and she writ her love in them.
‘‘O, how can it be,
That thou art so dear to the world,
When, as thy self’s, thou art so precious?
As it is, it hath power to kill me;
And, like a dreadful thunder,
As it flies, it hurls all to the ground.
‘But to kill my friend, thou shalt forfeit mine,
And do me shame with thine eye,
And then die, thy love to death.
‘Thus concludes her story, in sorrow;
A lovely child, her lovely beauty so lovely,
As the lily did her lips touch,
Make the lips of the lily so warm:
They too quickly the child was gone,
But the lily again she kiss’d,
In vain, for she had not the time nor skill
To give herself all that she was worth to crave,
Even now in heaven she hath her fill and all her beauty,
And all her beauty all at once doth seem,
The sun is burning her soul in flame,
And all her beauty all at once doth appear,
And all her beauty all at once doth seem,
The sun is burning her soul in flame;
But all her beauty all at once doth appear,
The sun is burning her soul in flame;
And all her beauty all at once doth appear,
As the sun is burning her soul in flame.
‘Then shall I wake up again, and my day be doth end.
My love is a thousand objects,
A thousand tongues to read,
And each tongue will speak a new and different story.
‘Tis true,’ quoth she, ‘there are no gods but men;
But it is not my love, my love, that I speak,
Yet for every thing I have, the most is wrong.’
‘But what makes thee wrong then is thy true love?
‘O then is thy beauty thy right,
And so my self thy right,
My self mine self thy true;
O then am I wrong, as thou hast deceived me,
Who have done such a decease
That thou alone shalt know mine true purpose?
And yet have I not done it before;
But I did betray myself, as the thief so,
And now by thy stealing act have I confessed my deed.
O, let me tell you, though I not see it,
In my tears I have sworn to my eyes,
The sun and moon have given their light
To the heavens, and I have sworn in them to behold
The heavenly heaven, whose light I will look upon
As you see my true self to-morrow appear,
And in mine true self to-morrow I will tell.
“The poor slave,” quoth she, “look on that dear slave,
And on that dear slave with disdain,
And on that worthless thing dead with her will remain:
And so they leave each other, and with sorrow return


======== CHECKPOINT 029 OUTPUT # 002 ========

pioneering you, and I, you, and your love is greater than that.
You are my friend, I am not your friend;
And the better for your self, you better be my friend
Than to me is not my friend’s fault;
I have sworn that thy love to me is greater than mine.
But this verse is not mine;
If thou canst swear a man thy love is so,
How shall I prove my love when thou art me gone?
Thy love to me was never to be forged
And thus the fault lies not with thee, but with thy love.
‘Thus did the sun make thee shine,
Thine eyes, that through them doth light thee,
Each eye the light of thy soul doth shine;
Thou lov’st, that thou dost in my name dost stay,
For thou art mine, and not to me thou art.
‘But how can I say I love thee more than I love thee?
For thou art mine, mine own, and not mine;
Thou my loving love, my self mine own, and not mine;
What if I love thee more than thou art my love?
Then say what thou wilt, and make this excuse;
But if this excuse prove false,
By me I know not love, but to thee alone is said.
If thou wilt lie in such a state,
Thy self-same self is my love, and that thy self love
Thou lov’st not, thou lov’st not love to me.
thou lov’st not, thou lov’st not love to me,
Thou lov’st not love to me, thou lov’st not love to me.
Thou lov’st not my love, not my love to thee.
O that which is so much farther thou know’st,
For if it be not so, thou lov’st mine more;
Thou lov’st to me thy loving self’s true love,
If thy self so like it, why not I love thee more?
“What dost thou make of this?” quoth she;
And she in answer shakes her head and exclaims,
If thou dost make my life worth less than that of thee,
I will kill thee for thee, if not for thee.
No, I have no love, my love is like thee.
No, my love is like thee;
And if thou dost kill me, so shalt thou live.
O what a false hope he is! his will did break,
And thus all the truth did perish;
‘Thou art the true and right, and all the wrong is,
To live to be a thief and betray,
And death to kill, if thou dost live to be dead.
‘Why,’ quoth she, ‘you didst steal the life of my son;
By this did I gain my life, and I lost thy life.’
‘This is false,’ quoth she; ‘but do not tell this to my maid;
She knows what to do, and my maid knows not what to say;
“Lo, it was mine that made my life lasting;
‘O,’ quoth she, ‘it shall not be my fault,
That I should not have been born again;
That in thee was a stain of thy sins,
Which on me hath no stain,
Thin blot upon my heart’s pride,
Which thou gav’st no pen to blot out.
Look, if thou wilt kill me, I fear no more;
I was not born for thee, nor thy part be.
O, if I be of thee, then my sins are thy parts.
But if thou wilt live to kill me, let not my sorrow.
My life shall not be so heavy, my love’s length shall not be heavy.
The old man, whom thou dost love, and whose wife thou dost love,
Shall have thy part to spend, mine part to spend thy youth,
And my life to spend upon thee, when thou shalt live.
As thou art by nature’s hand, thy hand doth extend,
And for a moment doth she turn it on;
When she gives it up again the force goes,
And a hand’s length that’s too short doth lend,
And a long hand doth lend the same.
‘If I die, this, that is, shall never die.’
And this she exclaims,
And this she says, ‘all men die by their own hand.
‘”Thus we are, as a thousand times in a thousand threads,
To each other we fly, and both of us dead;
Then, wistly, I bid them kiss each other’s eyes,
To make love


======== CHECKPOINT 029 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Quentin I did love you more than I loved him.
When she saw me, she said in a low voice,
If thy love could be my death, thou shalt not live
So shalt thou live with me, and with my death my life.
For I have no self, and neither true, nor true worth,
To live by thy love and to live by thy death,
For thou didst love me less than I have lived,
To live by thy love and to live by thy death,
And I never to die for thy love;
Then thou art my self, and not mine.”
But thou have no power of my love,
Nor art thou the gift of the world’s love.
The day doth seem as though from her eyes the world’s eye would look,
Though for the very first she did smile so.
Her eyes well know the deep grief which ensues.
When the light hath been gone, the darkness have begun.
“Thy eyes shall not open to behold me;
For my eyes are spies and thieves;
Mine eyes have been spies and thieves for naught;
My heart hath writ it in thy breast.
Who says that if my heart did hear you,
That I should kill you?
Well then, my dear friend, this is all my fault:
I must say that I did love you better than I do now.
‘Tis true my heart did love me best,
That it would hate me if I did not.
So to myself I hold the shame which lies concealed,
And think that I have done nothing wrong,
Since in that shame I had not said so.
That shame did mine own eyes make,
Which then in their own darkness still gazed upon me.
If this blush did stain me, why should my heart be so pale,
As it now glows from a burning torch?
The red of that which it was, that burning flame still shines,
Sets the tempest from where it falls.
‘Tis not such shame I fear to behold,
The foul act that such hideous shame engirteth,
What of that which I love more than I love thy.
I love thy blood more than I love thy name.
I love thee more than I know thee to be,
than to believe in your good deeds, or in yours.
‘”If thou lov’st that which is in me,
What of mine is not in thee, what of my friend?
If thou lov’st my life and my friend’s,
If that life’s self be aught worth nothing,
But my self in thee, thou art my self,
And mine own self in thee, is my self,
If the world should say so, it will be my death,
Love’s sting shall not kill thy sting;
Nor his sting, mine self’s sting shall kill thee.
His sting shall kill mine, my self’s sting shall kill thee.
Love is as weak as a feather to feathers,
And, like a sickle, with a feathery wind,
Grows strong, and, to make a sound, is shaken,
To shoot a bullet which his body in his hand can take,
And to kill me in that shoot, I must swear:
No, my oaths shall not deceive thee,
Nor let them break thy life to this:
But with thy oaths are I bound,
To all oaths that ever I swore to you.
“If you should say so, O fool, if thou shalt say so,
Then I’ll let thee win for good!
So, ‘twixt thee and me, I’ll swear to thee.
Thy love shall be thy best, and mine mine best is,
And neither mine nor my love is to be loved,
Yet in my loving heart thou wilt live:
And I thy love shall live to be revenged.
This is the worst slander that can pass between
Th’ unapproved love and his hateful lust.
The first, in whose pride he strives,
That all his shame in his hate may live up:
The other, in his pride, he will never live.
‘Since love is not self-love,
He that hath lost it, he may as well go
Against heaven or earth or heaven’s face;
Then to the world from whence it came,
With him shall go to himself and his foul-doing foes;
That from thence they seek to divide,
And divide in themselves they all will have;
If from thence they come to their own judgment,
They all will come to the same thing,
For heaven and earth and all men are one,
For hell and all men are one,
Then love shall dwell in love’s own judgement,
And hell and all men shall dwell in hell’s


======== CHECKPOINT 029 OUTPUT # 004 ========

Susan it appears:
For where did he make his woe?
Where did he give his death-beaten wife to give?
Where did he do his sorrow upon her?
Where did he live out his sorrow on her death?
Where did he kill himself on her death?
What made him so wretched then?
What made him so happy then?
Why did his deeds deceive her,
When in his she bore him lies?
What told her such lies made to impress him
Was not her self a part of his mind,
As his self the star to his constancy?
What gave her power to make him love her more?
O that the time which shall most suit my eyes,
Will my sight be all dull that in thy night,
And still my love thy self more well?
O that in thy soul art thou thy friend,
But thou, my dear, the fairest, am yet stranger.
‘O, who could say so?‘Yet all my woes were mine to tell,
For as I was sick of my bed-wetting,
For as I was thirsty, yet I was never so thirsty.
‘”O then,” quoth she, “my heart is strong as coal,
For when coal burneth the coal,
So shall it burn at noon, and then in my bed,
It must burn as fast as the flood can stop;
Which when my heart hath the flood and thou thy woe,
What shall I say to thy help?
‘I had imagined him, and there he was,
The painter’s knife that I took from his hand.
What might he say, or what should he say?
Or was he not a man to be observed,
For he wore his armour to impress his wit,
For beauty did not deceive thee with a smile,
Yet thou art mine, not mine to kill me;
Nor art thou the other to kill me,
If thou my friend I slay, not mine own face,
Then will I be in thy breast, which was thy face:
No more, thou lov’st not, for this was my will.
‘How dare I tell how thou art to be harmed,
For if thou art mine, what excuse canst thou have?
Thou art thy self, and to be thy self shall dwell.
“Ah, that thou mayst not be so fair,
For, lo, I cannot live to live to be wronged.
I want to live to be true and true shall live,
Therefore this question in my mind shall answer,
And then all will give me another excuse:
My eyes are red, my lips pale, my thoughts heavy,
And I’ll have all this in vain.
O no, that is why thou dost fear,
When, fearing that all my woes may be put to rest,
The shame of my woes will kill all that rest.
‘If my death be my self, then how shall my love be done?
For there is a god, and I, and he is father,
And I have no father except myself,
And yet the one which is father shall be my love,
Love my father and love my love,
That he should live and live and live and die,
The one which is dead shall live and die,
The other shall live and live and die,
And I in love shall die, and in love shall live.
Then how shall my love be saved if thou dost die?
This question she must answer,
And not yet answer her with words;
But let her say this in her bosom,
‘I cannot love thy heart; thou shalt not bear me,
To whom thou art like a slave of mine eyes:
Thou art my slave, and mine are thy rights,
To rob me of all my fair self,
And to sell all thy self for my fair self.
The wailing morn, the groans of pain,
And the sighs of relief, shall my heart be filled.
This she says is said, in a voice so high,
Which may astonish her eyes:
Then she shall weep, and weep for thee.
And as she says, ‘That man that hath power such as he hath,
Is mine and thou shalt be mine,’
And like a lamb she chides it,
“Give it the chance, and thou art mine,”
Then she quits, and he replies,
“I gave it thy life, and thou wast mine.”
‘If thou art mine,’ quoth she, ‘and thou hast it for thy will,
And mine that I give thee shall be thy will.
For thou art mine, thou art mine, and thou shalt be mine.”
And to this it seems she answers,
“O my dear friend


======== CHECKPOINT 029 OUTPUT # 005 ========

boxes and his own will, which he owed to thee
When thou hast sent me for them;
A thousand lines of golden locks, in their antique shape,
Made them, as thou hast done, in my will,
Since my will, that thy will, and my will,
All shall abide therein, I hold thee in debt
And mine will to repay thy trespass is
From thee, thy will to steal mine treasure,
My will to keep thee from stealing and stealing me,
And hence, as thou wilt steal thy treasure away,
Thy will to give thy treasure back is one
As thou wilt lend mine, if I shall be gone,
And thou giveth my treasure to my death.
So I give up my false hope, and I die,
And in the end it is thy will, I die,
I shall die, and never hear from thee again;
So long as thy will lives in me, mine will
In thee in eternal time live.
“Now have I seen thee before I saw thee,” quoth she,
“and in their pale faces did he thrust a knife
In my thigh, and my face did thrust it
in his hand; yet his hand was not to kiss me.
‘”He that would have done me a favour,
When he had done me a good deed,
When he had done me wrong, and in my name;
Wherein the shame that his act did make,
A blot to blot out his stain upon me.
And now this I read on the paper
The oath she made me, that she had sworn,
That thou shalt never kill another in my name;
And on this oath I am dead,
And thou wast thy last.”
But at last she adds, “Ay, but I will not kill.”
She concludes the book with her oath,
With oaths as strong as steel,
So strong is her will that she must make oaths;
And oaths that cannot be sworn,
Unless made of some more strong and holy thing:
‘O, the best and safest oath that ever my will
Amanc myself to thee!
This in a book that she in thee writ,
She had read, and now she had sworn,
Her will did lend her will, and now the oath,
She hath sworn that it is my will to kill him;
That he is a deceiver of my will,
And then as if in secret he should make it known,
Thy will for my sake be sworn,
That I must his will to kill him.
‘But where this book hath begun I do begin,
As if there were a fountain to spill out
Her blood and water that could drink it.
The stream is full of water, and the fountain
That drinks it from the bottom.
But as the fountain is full, so her will,
Wherein lies it, shall I pour out from thence.
‘O, when they had taken possession of me,
They had said, ‘Let him be king, and he bear the light;
Let him be slave, and he bear all.’
‘O, I will not tell the tale!’ quoth she,
To keep her true heart from thinking,
To see what it will do to be loved;
To love your neighbour as it loves your self,
To be proud of your own self, as a proud citizen,
When you yourselves are proud and you not proud.
And for this it is not so,
As for love of this my friend,
That my will will in mine will lend my will
To be sure that you will not be dead.
What shall I say? I do not live,
Yet can’t I say, ‘Love did kill me.’
“So you love me, and so shall you hate me,”
And this sad excuse for not giving
To your love what is best.
“Ay, but love is love, ’twas your dear sweet love,
And your love, and your love is my love,
Like the rain that doth fall from a tree
Like the summer that springs in the night;
Like the fall that falls from your summer’s spring.
So long you have loved me as you have,
That love, so long I have been your love,
Have I not been your love?
As to that, you seem to be your true self,
And yet I have been your love to you and to you to me,
And now I shall be your true self,
And you as my true self shall be my false self,
When you, and I, as well as you shall belong,
To each other are three parts,
That each one of us should look upon,
To see what we are, what we did,
And that we are all that we


======== CHECKPOINT 030 OUTPUT # 001 ========

ps of the wind,
Swinging the sea, the wind, to keep her eye.
The gentle ocean is thy breast,
And thy womb thy womb’s breast.
‘My life, my love, be not deceived,
Thy eyes should not see it,
And I the world may say that my heart is deceiving.
No love shall hide thy breast,
My lips do not kiss mine own lips,
My lips do not kiss mine own lips,
My lips, my lips, my lips are the kiss,
And all the rest of mine are the sin,
That I did not hate and then did love thee.
‘Yet from my bosom may I breathe,
Even through the deep night I can see the sun,
And all the starry night’s stars in me glimmer!
So may thy heavenly glory seem!
And then she bids him breath, to give him light
And the gentle kiss of truth, that never doth stop,
Shows him what his lips have wrought; and so he kisses,
For the sake of thy life.
‘Therefore say not thy part, my soul,
As thou art to die with a careless lie,
And yet let the painter take thy place,
And art thou the son of a fool,
who is not worth my life,
Till death’s pleasure be such an honour as my life.
‘O peace, that is not so,
A more or less warlike strife of many sorts,
My love hath been my subject since thy wits began.
‘Why should I, then, for my love should perish,
Thy love’s self-same defect being gone?
What shall my grief say? ‘Thy love, my love, thou wilt find
a more than modest home;
Thy self, thou wilt be thyself again,
That by thy self thy self thy self may live.
“I’ll stop now, my dear friend, and return
The time of my true self, the time where thou livest,
When time is my love’s purpose, thy self is dead,
The body, thou hast no heart left for thee,
The thing, thou shalt never be, is none.
O, by that time I have told, thee too late,
Even as a glass of water doth break when it doth see,
And as if by accident it doth break again:
So I am of love, my soul my heart,
Thou lov’st not the life to whom I am so often held,
My heart, I love, and thou lov’st not,
My self I love, and thou lov’st not.”
If thou dost weep, thou art dead,
And thou shalt not weep for me till the end.
And for that, I say, he that thinks thus,
Cannot have much love, and for this reason is bereft,
That thou art dead, and thou wast the thief.
‘In vain, O dear friend, as I say,
By thee didst kill my life and my love:
And thou hast nothing to live for but my death.
‘But this, as if he would slay me,
With that, as if from thee mightst slay me,
So with my life, in spite of my love’s doom,
By nature’s power I might break the peace of thy heart,
And leave you in that bosom of mine,
With such a sad heart to die?
‘O how I did not love your sight,
My thoughts did not imitate your taste,
My tongue did not imitate your beauty;
No wonder, then, I was your friend, your friend
And my self is mine, and mine shall live,
And my self shall live, and mine shall die,
Because thou hast given them your love, and mine shall live,
And mine shall live, and mine shall die,
And thy self shall live, and thy self shall live,
The living thing that thou wast but thyself,
And thy self was thy self, and thy self thy self,
I think thou in thy self’s self didst kill me,
The living thing that thou wast but thy self,
And thy self to be the living thing that thou wast
Was a living thing for thyself and thy self,
Which, like myself, thou were but another,
Till thou were the living thing thy self and thy self,
For that thou were so made,
For I thought thou shouldst still be living in me:
For if thou were, thou couldst still be dead:
And to think thou wouldst still be dead,
And to think thou wouldst still live in me:
‘For then is that thought but a little false,
That no one hears


======== CHECKPOINT 030 OUTPUT # 002 ========

ésir to hear her tale.
Thou canst not not compare thy love to his,
Till he be converted, if thou do not love him,
And he be converted unto thee with more delight.
This verse is very heavy, and I must make no comment,
For I think my love is a man-killing thing;
No one doth compare the thing with what it is,
But thou that dost compare the thing is more heinous;
Even so in that verse I did marvel
Where I saw one of my beloved ladies writ:
I love thee so, so much more than I do hate thee,
And love’s love is that which, as it grows,
Is grown to that which is no longer there.
‘”And as the wind doth blow, the night-colourless moon
Or bright mist, on it with pale eyes:
The sky being filled with her splendour,
With her beauty and his grace is gone.
“That is not so,” quoth she, “this sun is not so,
Nor his virtue as well as mine is strong.
And when he hath made him a goddess,
He doth take it from thence, and make him kings.’
This, if I may add, is the way he travels;
He takes the way in his pride;
It is no crime to be proud of it;
He gives it up to show his virtue,
To show his shame, to show his disgrace.
For if thou do this, then that is thy grace,
And if thou do that, I will not reproach thee,
But then thou art thy self to blame,
For not being thy self, I know no other shame:
Thou know’st me that you all have my strength,
Mine all, mine none.
When thou art mine, let none say so.
‘And that thy life being told,
That thy life being shown is of lesser import,
The man, who as he sleeps, begins to shake;
‘Twas no cause for thy self to be afraid;
O therefore, thou wilt not excuse me,
Or else let my sin, thou wilt excuse
My guilt to be pardon’d in the sun.
When love doth stain his cheek with his blood,
And wear all his face with his tears,
Whose stain so to my sorrow should I not know,
He will yet love it, and now thy spite will live.
‘Why then,’ quoth he, ‘you do not know?
Look how many things you have done that should not be undone,
And so you do know that I was once thy sweetest;
And then you know that thou art thy self,
And thou art so thy self can never be undone.
How then did my love, my love’s love, decay from me?
It’s a shame to hate, and to find fault in thee,
But yet it is sweet when thou hast said ‘It is a shame’.
‘If that be the case,’ quoth she, ‘if thou didst,
Thou were once my love, thou didst find fault,
And I am as well-favour’d with foul passions as thou art.
Thou art the mistress of my heart,
And I should never kiss her now.’
“The earth will not bear the blow,
nor heaven the deep wind that bloweth away:
The wind that blasts out of the earth is dead,
The snow that grows out of the earth’s ground is fresh,
The wind that blows through the cloudless sky is warm.
I am her mistress, and so is the world,
And then my life is a show, and nothing more,
But it is no true show, but to me
The beauty of my body and mind,
Thou art such a fool, and in me such a wretch,
That thou dost call me a lie, and so to me
Thy true nature doth prove
The most false story, and thus the truth doth bear;
I must confess thee in this falseness;
Since thou hast taught me not the truth of this verse,
I will confine myself here in my heart,
To let the sad story die.
Thou art the cause of thy self,
And all thy self’s faults in thee are mine;
Then I love thee, and I shall never be gone.
But then thou didst write a verse,
When thou art my love, and I am mine:
But now I hear that thy love died not,
And it hath not begun till thou see’st
the dreadful effect of my death.
‘Then was the year thus, and therefore thou dost know,
When it doth my spirit call me again,
And for the first time call me


======== CHECKPOINT 030 OUTPUT # 003 ========

patrolling in his head as his heart quaking,
He finds himself staring with a twain’s eye,
Which to his head doth show the wound he wounds,
And the wounds still remaining are left till the end:
When this, in his heart’s pride, gives pleasure to think:
How might he in his heart, when he so lov’d,
Have been this, and yet yet he is this?
O could not that be this, and yet he is this?
Then did he bequeath to his posterity
A certain legacy which he so well attains,
Which in his bosom shall remain with his youth,
While it may in his bosom be left undone?
How then, if his name remain,
Is not his spirit to the grave the better for it?
What do I say that might I say?
“Ay, that thou wilt come by again,
When I should go to bed and look upon thee,
Or I to sleep in thy arms, or to creep in thy breast:
Or I to look upon thy beauty’s wound,
When thou art mine, then, as soon as I can stop,
My breath can bear it; but as soon as I breath again,
My heart stops, my tongue cries, my lips writ;
And still my soul doth moan, my heart beats harder,
And still the lips of my tongue still remain
As if they had not been put to words when they were sung,
As if they were not as they are now, though they be:
Her cheeks, my lips, my nose, my handkerchiefs
Tear from my cheek like a wracked turtle;
Her nose, my handkerchiefs dry, her eyes white,
That when she looks at me her eyes are filled,
And then from the bottom of her cheeks she starts.
“O,” quoth she, “this doth make me want a knife,
And when I see this knife I would not have it.
Yet when he comes, if he did not kill me,
How can I be sure that his tongue was the only knife,
So cold is his lips that cold can be warmed,
And still so cold can be warmed is he;
No, if he did not kill me, I would die.
‘Then may I tell him my friend,
Who was to blame for my life’s death,
And then I’d have him answer me that his woes are imaginary.
I have seen the love of thy life grow,
And when thy love did grow in spite,
The child would have him take his name;
Or in the spring would he take his name in spring.
What a fair-goose hath he that did not bow
To give a poor dove a look, when the breath is full?
Why is not the breath of thee, whereof thy spirit doth run
In the wind that blows from thy nostril?
Nor yet I think the winds that blow on thee have warmed,
And thou dost sigh, wherefore hath my heart sighed?
‘Tis an hour, to make thee stop,
And to make thee stop still in my pilgrimage
Sorrow would soon be said to have begun:
A thousand a hundred hours a day spent
Catching what time he spent on thee, and then thou wilt come,
And tell me that thou wilt stay this time
In this place, and to this date:
And then may I tell you
The true story of that time when thou wilt come again:
From his horse at her sides he drew a hound,
And in her bosom he gave her some kiss,
That she did do to show it to his eye,
So as the horse’s rider hath in his pride,
He shakes her cheek, and the young maiden in her breast shakes,
And from her breast she woos him with her moan.
And yet that she thinks she hath not felt him,
And that he had no power to do her any harm,
To do her, she thinks she hath done him wrong,
And with that he shakes her, and she sighs again.
“Ay, that doth thou dost, in mine eyes
Saw the wolf that did feed on my sweet-son:
Then will I, in thy blood, be thy nurse,
Till thou art born again, and thou shall live,
As the dead whose flesh thee in thine eyes:
As the dead whose breath thou dost breathe,
Or as those that did bear thee the load,
But were not my nurse, for I in thee die.
‘And yet if thou wilt go, then shalt thou stay;
And then in thy breath I swear I love thee,
Thy breath, as thou livest in this, thou shalt live


======== CHECKPOINT 030 OUTPUT # 004 ========

supplementation of such wealth and such a care?
‘My life, my soul, my soul is dear to the world;
Yet in thee is life and death to me;
And for me to this is death, and for me to this is life:
When love, love to me, was the flower,
And in thee it blossoms till thou wilt flower again;
For thee, my love, it grows and flowers again.
He, with his back, shakes her by the shoulder;
Her voice, with tender grace, bids him go;
And with her neck he turns, to look;
Then in the general direction of her sight,
Her eyes, seeing him, shake their heads in confusion.
“Come,” quoth she, “do you see the face of a king,
Of many a gentle spirit, that thou wouldst fear;
For behold his eyes and see all the world are eyes?
And when thou wilt see their faces, all the world with thee,
O, behold them be as they are to thee:
All men look upon thee in amazement,
Which then would I be compelled to do
For some secret reason, and leave thee here?
Then where can I in heaven find some secret love,
Since there is no love, that will not be forsaken?
O, be kind to that, in my case,
Thou art, though the world would not love me.
What is love, what is true and what is fals?
What is wrong and what is right?
O, if one look upon the world, their eyes would wink;
So be it to thee to say, ’tis not love, but evil,
Who in thee stands the root of all evil;
That from thee all evil is sprung,
And from thy foul-mouthed part so doth I fall.
‘In him hath my love sprung, and from thence it doth lie;
In him hath my love sprung, and from thence it doth lie;
But in him hath my love sprung, and from thence it doth lie;
Therefore thy beauty doth grow like thee,
When thou wilt find thy beauty so pure.
“If,” quoth she, “my love had thee in love,
I would weep and sigh, and say, ‘Dear husband,’
I’ll not leave thee, but give thee some more grief;
What can I say that I love, but thou dost,
Thou know’st to be my friend. I’ll be with thee for thy sake;
Yet thou shouldst betray my trust, and my dear love,
The time will tell when my love will be dead,
The truth will teach me how to live again.’
‘For what reason would I not leave thee,
And thou mightst be the first to find out?
My mind was troubled, and therefore my soul fell,
And the heart that feeds on that feeds no more,
So doth the heart grow weary of all, and all my rest.
I cannot bear to do all this, and yet none can help me.
When in the midst of many a great fight,
When the enemy is armed with a thousand swords,
When each side is so heavily armed,
When the horse-drawn carriage doth double cross,
When the wind blows in the clouds’ fire,
When the dead cannot breathe, or even think,
Then my heart being strong, will not let go,
Nor my soul to rest, nor my body to cry;
And being gone, I will not give my light light a breath;
Yet would I still stand still as if nothing were to live;
Therefore to a heavy night I will wail;
And if thou wilt live long enough, then my prayers will be answered,
And then my mind will be strong again and my mind rest;
But now I feel a strange fear, and then a more fear,
To say, ‘I am dead,’ ‘this,’ ‘this,’ ‘this,’ and so on,
So am I with thee now, till then I will say,
I never love thee still;
Then it shall seem to me my self shall have thee;
And when thy self shall have thee, I will leave thee,
Nor thou thy self’s self shalt I remain,
My body, though made with thy part, yet shall be
In a sad state, not of joy, but of sorrow,
To say, ‘This,’ ‘this,’ ‘this,’ ‘this,’
‘this,’ ‘this,’ ‘this,’
this,’ ‘this,’ ‘this,’ ‘this,’
I never know how long I shall live, and yet thy name I know,
Though at this thou art dead, yet this is not my,
Which I fear as much as thou hast dead,


======== CHECKPOINT 030 OUTPUT # 005 ========

opt is this:
‘It is enough to make thee moan:
Let me be thy mistress and have the cure;
As soon as thou art done, so shalt thou be.’
“O love, if thou wilt, behold the light of day,
Showing the morning’s glory;
And when thou look’st on the night, let no shadow shine
On the sun, nor any thing else:
But every thing in thy bosom shine,
As the golden sun in the eastern sky,
Gazing on heaven and earth with that blessed radiance.
But now Adonis leaves his wife, and leaves his child
Who by his side he doth beguile;
He takes with him a son, whose name he did make
The boy to kiss her face;
She replies that she loves him most,
And that thou art one of his sweetest loves,
That she, that thou dost love to hate, thou dost love
The man that lies with her.
“Lo, as he walks, his head doth shake;
His eyes dote with his brain, and their faces
With his eye they look, like those pale sepulchres that the roses left;
Then shall they see, and he will wink:
Thou shalt never see the love of thyself that doth live,
And therefore, my dear, it shall live, for I am
That art such love, and yet thou art such a fool.”
‘And thus the young king begins,
Till his fingers, and his lips’ faces are to the wind,
With a windy sighs they cry aloud.
“O thou art such a thing, poor fool,” quoth he,
That is to be blamed for thy woes.
‘O, why dost thou then lie with such a coward,
Whereon thou art such a thief?
Or what is thine own sin that doth justify it?
‘”Why dost thou then lie with such a coward,
Whereon thou art such a thief?
Thy self was slain, and thou art thy self:
If thou then be thyself slain,
My soul be thy self again, and yet thou art dead,
And thou the dead, I thee to die,
Thy self to be thy self again is thy self still.
And yet if thou hast slain me, thy self being dead,
Thy self, or some other, shall reign again.
Thou art a coward, and that coward doth live,
And thou shalt be dead.”
‘Now, O, if there had been such a thing as death,
A painter would have made it, and he would have done
Another thing to make him famous,
His love was the object, and he did give
A kiss of sweet delight, and to taste
The best of his sensual skill,
And as for this, he did remove his coat;
And then the old fool doth shake off his suit and lay,
And when the youth of that picture shall say,
He calls upon the birds and exclaims in terror:
Thy tears are bleeding, thou hast gone, for thee,
My sake, my sake, my sake, my sake,
Thy blood, my blood is red;
So is this my fault that thou didst stain,
Thy love doth my blood bear, and thou dost live.”
‘”For him the door that held me was locked,
Which if I would open it he could not open;
Nor let him in the door that in his night
Shall be locked, nor hear him say aloud:
His secret, and that which he did not know,
Is to be questioned by the dead, and not the living.
“What foul trespass hast thou committed?” quoth he;
Her hair falls, and her eyes appear:
The one on her lip, the other on her chin,
Tiresome, and weary, to behold
Are such a spectacle to behold:
Yet, for my sake, may I be silent,
When in my breast thy self hath committed
Thy crime, and thy life wasted,
And that thou livest not with thy self,
For all thy self’s death I must weep for thee.”
O blessed day! O blessed night!
‘Tis a true-day to me, that in thee
A true night to my eyes,
And in thee a true night to every eye.
O love to love is a sweet, yet hardy subject;
That in thee one with thee may live.
For thou art so soft, yet hardier,
That mine eyes cannot see thy face;
But mine eyes must see thy face,
That no eye can see thy face,
Which is thine, therefore thy eye is not a fair


======== CHECKPOINT 031 OUTPUT # 001 ========

contin’st self;
Her self she is and she is not,
So far she’s not but the living,
And if you can see her, we see her.
And so Tarquin did in his verse,
From thence he went with a party to see
The sickly-bewitching boar that hunts;
Then, perceiving them ill, he did relent,
And they, feeling so, did stay in their plight.
‘Gainst that Tarquin did kill,’ quoth Lucrece,
‘but he did not kill him’
For Tarquin was a woman of fair blood,
And his image as a child is no picture;
What a child would look upon his mother’s face!
O, what a life! let’s say he’s in love with her,
But she’s not his wife, he’s not her mistress;
For she’s his mistress but he is mistress.’
‘But,’ quoth she, ‘he that lives, his will is weak;
He can’t give his will, he can’t give his will
But that which lives is his gift, and I, his will is strong.’
“The poor boar, poor lamb, poor swine;
Then there are these three, one by one,
Whose looks, but their parts are so far apart:
Each looks for his liking, and each for his defect;
As I the poor boar, the lamb the swift bear,
I the poor swine, the dove the hawker,
I the boar the dove the hound,
And to myself the birds sing praises,
And to the turtle with his proud voice:
‘”And they in the budded buds
Of their own bud break open their buds,
As flowers do open their own blossoms.
‘If you may, thou wilt give me all the rest:
For by me you owe a lot to every thing,
And by me all the rest is to be desired.
Look why my self in thy sight
Doth dwell on thy shame and make me worse!
When the worst in thee shall be well known,
My self my self in thee will live
Under this self-same tyrant’s shadow.
So shall I, thy self, to bear the light;
That this my self, which thy self doth bear,
And thy self that thy self doth not bear,
Or my self that thy self doth bear thee,
Thy self this alone can bear,
And thee thy self thine own self alone bear.
I, this myself as I am the world,
Or all others as one, is self-same,
The world and I, as one.
But though I be in the world, yet the world
Is in me, and he in me.
Thou shall I die on this earth, and thou on the ocean;
This shall be thy destiny, thou shalt live with me;
I will not steal thy breath, but thou shalt take mine.
For thou art all my love, and all that thy parts hold,
Thy parts love thee, and all that thine,
Thy parts be all mine, and all that thy parts give.
“For what purpose canst thou live by reason’s breaking,
That thou in a moment, from the womb,
May live, in death, but in this life?
For thou thy self, my self, and in this life?
What purpose canst thou live by reason’s breaking,
If thou die by this life’s breaking?
For how canst thou live by this life’s breaking?
For how canst thou live by this life’s breaking?
But wherefore in this is my answer
Which thou shouldst know, the day is coming when thou art come,
That all this world is slain, my soul to die
With thee, that I might live again.
‘Thou art not dead, do not die,
Unless in the grave, then thou wilt die.
For as death is my end I do not want thee;
Even so, like an infant being nursed,
I’ll do thy death with that child and not thee:
With thee it is thou which thou shalt do my part,
And in that which thou shalt do my part, thou shalt live again,
For if thou survive, what of my part shall I die,
For what then of my part shall I live by thee,
Even as thou livest where thou livest?
If so, in thine own self I’ll live in thy self;
Thou livest where thou art, and thou live not at rest,
I’ll live on thy part, as thou livest,
For if so, in my self that thou livest,
Thou liveth only on mine part, and I no


======== CHECKPOINT 031 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Tray and kiss his hand; and then she began to weep with a loud cry,
To make me sad by thy tears, or else by thee.
But at last she exclaims, and says she never saw him kill,
And now she hath set her eyes on me,
And they behold the desperate sight; and, lo, as the night
Sings in my heart, so mine, too, was the night.
As long as my love lived,
O how long I did not love thee that loved me more.
‘Tis well that you might imagine that he be gone;
His death, my death, was more cruel than thy life’s;
But you are sadly forsworn of any sorrow:
The shame of your youth and you that did wrong thee;
But, O, how thou lov’st not thy time to boast
Of that sweet, unvarying praise which thy lips gave.
Even so, in that which thy lips made praise,
For all the praises of praise are made,
That even those which thou wilt boast of have,
In every thing done I should like to hate thee more,
Yet at last, though my thoughts may be full of praise,
When thy self I love to despise,
When that self I hate to possess,
The thing I love is not that I may do it myself,
Then can I live on but in thy love.
‘Tis well that you might imagine that he be gone;
Yet though my death may be more cruel than thy life,
Than still worse, to live on in my spite,
And still be worse still, for ever living I must live.
He takes a liking upon my body,
And I a lover’s love, and both are my love.
So may thy thoughts be blazoned with blood,
Even so, the painter doth make them liv’d
Within thy frame, and not in thy heart,
As being in me, which they see but as the matter.
“Thou art love, yet I do fear thee.”
This word may be translated: thou art not love,
Love is love, yet I do not love thee,
Thy love is but sour lust, and so is thy love,
Thy passion the flower of love, the flower of love,
That is love’s flower, to thee still is not bud;
But when it is set to flower, sweetly it is blooming;
But when it is set to flower, sourly it is blossoming,
For beauty in this sweet sweet flower is dead.
The time of thy love is past, and thou art past,
That for thy self’s sake thou livest and die.
“Poor boy,” quoth she, “being confined in my bed,
What would I say to him if thou mightst look?
I have thought that I saw thee when you were sleeping,
And that you were my wife, and all my subjects
Within the world of their acquaintance,
For my husband hath seen you, and none but you see.
‘But now,’ quoth she, ‘there is a boy gone, and his name is
The gazelle, and all the night there lies,
Who thinks to wake him, till his eyes with his eyes have seen
The gazelle to the east and west with them;
And the gazelle to the west with them;
Then when they have done, the gazelle to their west with
Hath seen the gazelle before, and the gazelle to their east with
All their many sights, but one in one,
Where is thy love when I cannot touch thee?
But when thou wilt see, I in thee
Canst thou hear me that thou art ill,
Whose voice I shall not hear, though I make a bed?
And being gone, yet still I can hear thee say:
He will not hear me; the sun that doth burn this world doth stay
Which in the sky doth set upon the face
Each night his shining eye hath but seen;
And if thy eye behold this, thou art sick;
O, how much blame dost thou bear,
How much blame dost thou bear when thou dost see?
‘”He that looks is dumb, and he that speaks dumb:
All these that he takes are but thine,
For his eyes are dumb, his hearts are dumb, his mind is dumb,
His body is feeble, his mind weak, his mind full:
His parts are like to those of a turtle;
His balls like to balls are like unto thorns;
His brow like to brows is like to wrinkles;
His eyes like to eyes are like stars;
His head like to eyes is like a mountain bottom;
His nostrils


======== CHECKPOINT 031 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Rapin to him; but now the door open’d; and lo, all alone, he was gone,
In a sad, dark-walled mansion with a naked babe.
“So be it,” quoth she, “for he would have done me wrong;
But thou, blessed of me, wert thou to be thine own,
For my sake shalt thou wert thou my self in bondage.
“O! I have never sought to kill thee,
Nor ever felt my soul wrong;
Not once did I fear for thy hurt,
But when a thousand miles’ journey I should find thee,
And wilt I but wish it were none?
Or else why didst thou this sad tale
When I once doted in a virtuous man?
Or didst thou thus tell the truth, as thou hast said,
that I was thy self in sin and thy self in hate?
Now the time hath come to tell this sad tale,
And to give you the pleasure of reading,
And to see what a happier state of my affairs is,
With my affairs in paradise, that now thy fair life doth lie:
With other loves, my happy state I live in,
But you have but one love to give me back:
And that is me, my fair, my sweet love.”
That said, her eyes fixed on his head,
Which with her bright lips the painter had painted in her eye,
Were full of proud ambition, of fear, of envy;
And her lips as white as night were filled with the sun,
For their lusty faces did all their beauty lend;
Who then was not so bright, as with all her beauty fled?
But now, a stranger in her closet
Came, that from behind her to her eye,
A glassy portal, where all the other lamps were;
Now the sun herself is seen, and not the other;
Or as in a dream the crystal curtain
Is broken from Time’s golden hue,
So this crystal door will stay in Time’s night,
And all that time hath doth entertain the rest.
She looks sadly in his face; and the pale glass
That in Time’s holy fire shines up through is gone;
Now this strange lamp which in the fire shines doth
Cannot be seen, and Time is gone, his sorrow is greater.
O, now I see the fair-sprung flower
Of roses, the sweetest of all the roses,
With this she takes to herself, and bids her tongue kiss;
The young flowers seem sweet, but that which grew out of them were
Planted in the earth’s soft mud, where they thrive:
If these flowers should decay, what can the world endure
That makes you so good to be so poor?
But here he stops again, as the wind blows,
Or when the sun takes off his brow, as the fire begins.
‘Now let me say to myself that this tale is true,’
The author of love is my friend, and she my friend:
But the woman that speaks so true speaks no better,
For love, like a sad dog, doth neigh as it neighs;
And then she sits on the curb and robs,
And cries aloud, ‘Lo, I must go!’, and leaves her.
“Well done, well done, and good night!
Love’s foul instrument of punishment,
And sweet instrument of war, for the sake of all my love,
To die with thee, in my lust for thee,
To die with thee in my hate for thee,
To die with thee in my love for thee,
To die with thee in my love for thee,
To die in thee in my love for thee,
So I have sin’n thy false-sack’d virtue,
Which, with thee, thou art my lord, and the world’s fair,
Whose guilt shall my crime carry, and thy fair praise,
From whose fair hand my soul mine eyes have pried
The sweet poison that shall bring me here to this tomb,
And thence abroad to make thy way to heaven;
But my body being in thine eye, thy guilt shall have no pleasure,
Nor for my love shall thy self be saved,
Nor life for thee to see thy life,
For thou art thine, and that which thou art thine is mine,
For I did kill thee, and kill thee only.
‘If I may do,’ quoth she, ‘I should kill thee as soon as I find thee,
Because thou livest, and I thou die.
‘But if, by this, thy love should have done me wrong,
A mortal plague that shall never be cured;
I would slay thy love and yet live.’
‘My dear love,’ quoth she, ‘it


======== CHECKPOINT 031 OUTPUT # 004 ========

oft”d, though for thy grace I had never seen him till now,
And when I see thee again, for me I think thou art dead
And die with thee, being dead with thee:
That which thou wouldst not possess, still to be beguiled,
Is thy self-same purpose, and I my self as my self die,
Like that which is thyself in self-same measure,
So to myself I will prove, and in thy self I will prove
And prove the same, and in thy self I myself die,
Since both of you my self did prove
And both of you my self so will prove,
That I alone am both present and dead,
Which is all but to spite this false spite,
For all of you I still do be present,
The false love that hath so many to love:
“If that thy true love have love,
Nor my love be so true, but my false love,
That my false love still is thy true love,
Which to love is all false the same
Till there were my true love with a foul reproach,
And a false love with a foul reproach:
The one false, both true, both true,
Both to be both one; then that thou art,
Thou art two: not two at once.”
‘”What is the first? Who is it, dear boy,
Who makes a present of thee, what part thereof?
Or who sets a store of your sweets, what part thereof?
Who buys a piece of paper and lends a glass?
Or is he one, and sells that to another,
To sell another for that same object?
Or bids her be her maid, to take care of thy part,
Or bids her be with others, to nurse her in need,
Or to leave him that is mistress of his,
That will do him a speedy death by thy side.
For if he die, thou shalt be with him in the flood,
And for him thou wilt live to kill him,
As to two lovers in one, one is dead, the other alive;
And now is thy time with the dead to die,
And yet no sooner is time spent in the dead’s way,
By making thee a perpetual mote.
‘When thou mak’st the present a perpetual season,
And to your present a perpetual mourning year,
The present thy love will bear, the present thy friend,
The present the present the present your sorrow,
The present the present the present the present thy love,
You will all present in one: and each to his friend’s part,
Will thus form one man and one woman,
The present, which is your love’s, the present your friend’s.
Thou art one, and one woman,
both alive and dead in one; one true, both living,
Both living and dead in one:
What didst thou intend, to eat my life?
To kill my life? to live my life?
When in love didst thou live, to spend your life,
Or, as in a dream, to live like a fool?
Thou art neither living nor dead, but living,
Both, both, dead and living, in one,
That I may, on thy side, defend thee,
And yet in one, that I may deny thee,
And yet I do defend thee, and yet thou art not I,
I never did, or never will make thee so;
Thy love is a thief, and thou art an adulterate,
That in thee all lies and truth is made.
In thee all lies and truth lies not.
To me love is nothing but the earth’s earth,
From whom all thy sins are taken,
And to what end that thou wast lost turns you anew;
Wherefore with thy suffering me thou dost extend
The summer from this hell with my love,
To live eternal life, to live like a fool.
When by nature gives pleasure to men,
They do not, that they should, kill women’s eyes,
As they kill birds’ nests’ nests’ nests,
For they with their wings do their nests kill.
Now what will not be said is this:
“I have no love; yet you did love me:
Mine eye hath seen the beauty of so sweet a boy,
Which by thy bright eye hath seen the sweetest of love’s,
The boy’s eyes in thy cheek seem to fly to heaven.
Then why then did I weep with tears,
Since thy love in thy cheek so much sorrow’s ended?
Now thou art sad, and I am sad,
Who in thy weeping cry dost thou rest?
But thou dost not live, thou dost not die;
Let all our sorrow


======== CHECKPOINT 031 OUTPUT # 005 ========

workload, as a painter, or as an actor.
He hath made many such errors that, being done, he is again condemned,
To see the dead and their reproach,
When the dead themselves are glorified:
But when the living, for whom he makes many errors,
Shows his faults in his glory,
In his glory he shall be praised as more great,
By the audience that he so laudeth,
The general of that audience to him he cheers.
‘And being in him, yet in me you see
That his love, although not true, yet is
Within your self your own inward eye behold,
For you behold him with all your eyes in mine eyes;
This eye so many that you see with your own,
When you look upon others in my sight,
For I in them love not my love,
That they in you they in me love love well.
Therefore for thyself being proud, why then canst thou not live?
Thy honour be thy own but to make thyself so proud,
That your fame should have such a glory,
That some might call it thine, that it might be thy fame,
And thou in this you should make thee one
Of true and true worth.
‘The time hath come for that which is in me told,
That from thy face I could write a goodly tale,
Which by the grace of thy name might know
The secret secrets which in thee have been hid.
That all the world may know that thou art that,
The world that did not know thee is mine,
and by thee art thine too.
Then I will tell the truth of this time, and this place,
If your love’s will will be so kind, I’ll do this;
For that which is said to me to be told,
Is what I’ll say it will be told, though not my tongue,
I will write for you this most excellent account:
“And at last he hath emptied his pen,
And laid the book that thou shalt see in thy bed,
And made it thy object to read again;
But I can’t write but with my lips lips do lend,
Which in my heart’s desire shall survive.”
What is the world worth when I am done,
Where nothing you do with mine, I love and want,
And love is to me most simple,
And most sweet, most lovely, most kind,
The least adjunct to love, and least adjunct of love,
In the pure, or most pure, the least adjunct,
For love, being sweet, still remains, and then,
Reservoirs, and beggar doth the same,
The best is found in a semblance,
By the best adjunct, that in the least,
Hates the worst, even in the best.
Now that this was said, I thought it was my friend,
And did my heart’s desire lend it to thee.
The true love that’s well understood is
Anointed with anointed stones, and put on fire;
Thou hast the gift, and thou shalt never have it.
By this, the true king is dead,
For love, truth, and beauty’s truth,
And they both at once convert thee:
And as one, another by themselves,
To their own wanton torment, they slay each other.
When thou art thus reconciled with them,
Thy power to win thee to this unyielding torture is
And now is my last thought as a question,
Why canst thou be such a tyrant when I am not
Thy power be the tyrant’s? let me say that,
And that shall suffice to say so.
Love in this state is my friend, and it is
Within my control that I govern,
And thus it seems to me in my self-love
That he in my self is the cause
Of that I self is my master, and then I am his
I will govern the thing which he in my own cause desires,
And will in his own self I will control,
Being his master. (Ought the world not her duty to see?)
And why is it this: ‘For the sake of peace I will stop
From kissing my self, nor from fond words of praise,
From love, that I might be thy mistress,
Or that I might be thy true mistress;
That thou mightst never think to betray me,
Thy worth, thy worth’s worth’s worth must never be touched;
For love, and thus is it reconciled,
Love in all truth doth convert my self,
That by it I should die and my self be left alone.
How true and true is his spite!
How true, and true, are his words doth compare!
How true,


======== CHECKPOINT 032 OUTPUT # 001 ========

Child, in my bed,
Or when I wake, that I may still perceive thee
My own self, or one whose power I have.
She did not know this, but in a dream, she saw
And with her beauty, did perceive him lie,
For now she is a goddess unto me.
‘O shame that thy self had done me wrong,
Thy self dost thou, the traitor doth lie,
Thy self dost thyself, the traitor doth lie,
‘O shame that my self doth thee make,
Thy self dost thou, the traitor doth lie,
O shame that my self doth thee make,
Thy self doth thou, the traitor doth lie,
O shame that my self doth thee make,
Thy self doth thou, the traitor doth lie,
O shame that my self doth thee make,
Thy self doth thou, the traitor doth lie,
O shame that my self doth thee make,
Thy self doth thou, the traitor doth lie,
O shame that my self doth thee make,
Thy self doth thou, the traitor doth lie.
Then he rose, and on she stood,
And the two of them kissing;
Then Adonis came with her, and Lucrece,
Shall join hands for the conquest of thine.
This poor creature’s shame she hath wrought,
Her body in disgrace of all his might.
The man’s breast hath her name,
In all his power, in all his majesty.
How shall the world’s love with love in me be blest?
‘As he goes, she runs; his pace with his steps;
And he by her side, she leaps, and cries, “O pardon, O pardon!”
O pardon, my sweet friend,
I have heard all sorts of stories,
And there are some I could not quite say,
How sweetly he came to my bed.
‘This thought seems very hot,
The wound breaks open, and the painter is gone;
“Oh what a shame that was,” quoth she, “if thou art alive!”
The painter was dead when she painted him,
And thou shalt see me still now,
As you see me now: this is not beauty,
Though for it thou art beauty in thy soul,
With a more beautiful eye it will not be,
The better for what thou art, the worst for what thou makeest.
When thou art dead, thou shalt know no better,
Nor you for that matter will ever be remembered.
‘The painter, though he died, still doth still look
To me now and then, still more in awe,
Lacking that which is so near dear;
But love itself being with thee so,
Shall do my woes grow greater with me?
To-day my thoughts are pure and simple,
And still no sin of my sin seemeth
To make me change my mood, my mind make me wilt.
How many a time shall I be forgot in that time?
Let it not be thought I am fond,
The painter in his youth is fond of fame,
And his youth with fame he fond of fame:
How can such an image be made proud of me?
To make him proud of my self, what else could I say?
O let me tell you my story, my love,
How you love in love can make others proud:
My love did make the painting of my love bright,
And in it your love drew the image of my love,
Where you can see what my love meant,
And all those which by your love I did bring:
‘The painting which made you my love,
The one I did make you in love,
The one that gave me the sweetest impression,
Where you can see what your love made my love bright,
Or in which your love drew the image of my love,
When you can see what my love made my love sad,
And in which my love did make your love so happy,
I never could love you but in one.
In truth, all thy goodness, all thy qualities,
And all thy worth all mine were the work of some,
A man’s self in some respect,
A boy’s self in some respect,
A man’s self in some respect,
A man’s self in some respect,
A boy’s self in some respect,
A man’s self in some respect,
A boy’s self in some respect,
A boy’s self in some respect: this is not beauty,
This is nothing in beauty nor in life:
Look how I was never groomed, nor ever taught,
But my self is the most beloved


======== CHECKPOINT 032 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Chapman’s picture as well as his own is shown,
The one in his face, the other in his chin,
The two are as distinct, like a fair-beholding dove
And the dove in her back-back circled.
When I saw him on his back with his head,
With his cheeks painted with his pale cheeks,
And the pale cheeks in his cheeks his nostrils,
That were white in the world’s wide daylight
With his lips black in the day’s shadow:
That is what I am, and not what I am,
And that is what I am, I do not know;
But those that have the truth do I perceive,
As though they themselves have tasted;
And when they have tasted of it their hearts know
It is their true sight to view it:
And they that have tasted it believe it themselves,
And their hearts have sworn it to be so.
“Then where are I now, a stranger from another world,
To see my husband, whereon love begins to break,
My sister my brother’s sweet child, my wife’s lover,
my love in you is death, my love is life.
Look, thou lov’st my eyes, that I have not seen,
Thy true love doth me well, and for that reason do not
Disturb thy eyes’ infamy in my sight;
O for my eyes, thou art my love, thy love’s true self
Hath defaced this image of the world’s fair:
Even as thou art my love in the world’s eyes,
Where thou hast defaced this image of beauty,
And thy defaced art in a world that doth love me,
For thy defaced love doth love me as thy own in love.
This verse is, like that of some jade,
That the maid whose hair her son’s brow doth wear
Grew the fairest shade with each stroke,
And more of what she saw were in her eye so much,
And beauty did not love more than beauty’s fair shade,
And beauty’s fair shade was less fair than beauty’s fair,
Nor beauty’s fair fairest shade had greater beauty in it,
than beauty’s fair fair fair or fairer beauty’s fair,
beauty’s fair fair fairest beauty’s fair,
Thou art thy true self, and yet thou art not so,
And yet for that reason do not hate thee,
For thou art thy self so great, thou art a man,
And not so to himself so great,
For that which thou makeest, it makes thee to be,
To be the object of love, to be your self,
And in this, to be one with nature,
Thou art our self-love, and that you are
So, being such, I must live beside you.”
Then she doth answer him,
And now he is going,
And now she is gone, and then he remains,
For her, and for him, she hath no voice,
The quiet of the house where we were,
His eye is fixed on her heart and eye on her heart,
His mouth is wide open and wide his lips flat,
So that no one should see but his own eyes.
So long as thou art with me, I’ll be with thee.
For thou art mine, my love is mine.
If thou lov’st, then all the world is mine;
For if thou lov’st, then no good is made of mine.
But if I lov’st, then thou art my love,
Even so my love must not live in my love.
Therefore, for my love and for thy love’s sake,
I’ll do my best to kiss his cheek,
And thou alone in mine self shalt kiss his cheek,
And thou alone in mine self shalt kiss his cheek,
And thou alone in mine own self shalt kiss his cheek,
Then do thou art mine, mine only,
And mine alone in mine self shalt kiss his cheek,
But that is not my love,
I’ll do my best to kiss his cheek,
And thou alone in mine self shalt kiss his cheek,
Then do thou art mine, mine only,
And mine alone in mine self shalt kiss his cheek,
And thou alone in mine self shalt kiss his cheek,
Then do thou art mine, mine only,
And mine alone in mine self shall kiss his cheek,
Then do thou art mine, mine only,
And mine alone in mine self shall kiss his cheek,
Yet if my love are love, thou art not my love,
For I thy love is love and thou hast thy worth,
And thou thy self mine own worth is worth.
O Time, where art thy love when thou dost not see,
O Time, where art thy


======== CHECKPOINT 032 OUTPUT # 003 ========

suitcase’ had already been taken.
He took his way; but it was lost in the distance,
As shadows that must hide them still,
As shadow that must not hide them still,
No shadow but your soul to betray to me,
For thou art mine own, the same as I am,
You are all thy own, I do believe you all
My love and pity, my self-love and hate,
Your beauty and my self-love, my own beauty
And mine own love and all my self-love
As thyself, like my self, and all other,
As thyself in thee, all my love in thee.
‘But where are thy friends’ eyes?’ ‘In them?’ ‘In mine?’ ‘In them?’ ‘In them?’ ‘In them?’ ‘In them?’ ‘In them?’ ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them?’ ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them?’ ‘In them?’ ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them?’ ‘In them? ‘In them?’ ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them?’ ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them? ‘In them?
This is their grief, this poor thing is their delight,
And to have that which belongs to others is to be pitied;
If that be in you, why didst thou in me forsake,
The sake of others’ praise, that which is yours,
To make that which your self with thy own image gave
Thy self my self’s expense, thy own profit, thy own glory,
Thy own image, with thy self thy self’s gain, thy self’s shame, thy self’s pride, thy own doom, thy own sin,
So on that day didst thou make my self thy self’s expense,
And I, with thee, as thou gav’st with thine,
Thou gav’st thine own expense, thy own profit, thy own shame.
To make thy self thy own expense, to make thy self thy self’s expense,
So, by thy self, the self whose expense thou gav’st,
To make thy self thy own expense, to make thy self thy own expense.
So that thou mightst make thy self the self whose expense thou gav’st,
And thus thy self mayst by thy self be thyself thyself yourself’s expense,
Thy self mayst by thy self be thyself thyself’s expense,
Thy self mayst by thyself be thyself thyself’s expense.
If thou shalt be my self, and thou art my self,
Or if thou wilt be a different self, then both be lost,
That being made me should in every thing be,
As if I were one with thee, with thee, with all thy fair.
So in the hope of such a thing,
Myself, my self, my self, is in a state of despair,
And wailing, ’tis all for wailing to hear thee;
Then, lo, I beg pardon for the foulness of thy name,
When in thy own self thy name, my name, my self, was slain,
I besiege thee in all my rage,
And on the way, the captain doth complain,
That his rider’s speed is slow,
And that he stops where he should have stop’d him,
And now the horse is gone, and the rider
Hiss his horn, and the rider’s hand goes to heaven.
What would you have done for me if I could have been so kind,
Even to-day with a slave your image had brought


======== CHECKPOINT 032 OUTPUT # 004 ========

disconnected by her husband’s death.
(As they were speaking she thought to herself,
When they were all sitting, gazing on her,
Whilst one in another doth moan and the other sits,
She looks upon him with her cheeks and smiles;
She then goes to kiss him, and being kissed he again,
runs away, for fear that he shall catch her up again;
So she goes and kisses him again, and still others see
Whose mouths her heart doth open, and her heart beats:
For why should one heart’s plea pleadings leave
The other’s weak heart, in so strong a plea?
“What is that?” quoth she; “this wound?” “Why can’t you get away?”
He bids her look, and, in her trembling fingers,
With trembling lips she lifts his hand, and,
As he lies on the ground, with pale face he shakes;
His cheeks, though white, they had been the red of her cheeks
And he would have drawn them back again,
And she would have drawn them again with her fingers,
Her breath, or else she would have put them away.
Then thou dost see the knife thrust on her cheek;
That in thy soul is thine own injury,
Thine own fault in my bad act,
And that thou art the reason of all thy deeds?
Why should I, though thou so free, bear wrongs worse than mine?
The time’s right, I must go, and be right,
But that time must be spent by thee or me alone.
This she says again and again, and again she says,
As if she might say, ‘Time doth wrong me now,
I am in love with thee now.’
For as soon as she says, her eyes did her tears stand:
She puts her lips on his cheek, but the lips of his nose,
She looks upon his eye with her head’s open eyes;
Her eye is in his cheek, she on her back;
She turns back his cheek, and in his chest she holds,
He looks down upon her from his lips, and she on his cheek.
“And why should not thyself thou live so,
That thou wilt see thyself as thyself,
When thou art thyself the painter,
And in thee art all this to live?
When in thy beauty’s power am I painted,
If in mine as in thine are thy images,
Thine worth be so grossly corrupted,
That, even in thy own image, thou alone,
Have I not taught thee to imitate me,
Like to him are thy images and all that thy image:
But since thou art thy image, so shall I not be.
For now thou shalt find me again, but in this,
I will not be so, neither shall I be with thee.”
The birds and the mouse began to sing,
Like birds which like nests were slain,
Like in vain they did chase the night away;
Laughter is the sound of the dove,
But to be merry the crow would shriek,
Lily’d in haste did she herd the birds;
She did herd the birds, and the mouse to run;
Then the boar took to the field, and began to chase;
Then the dove began to chase again;
And when the boar had fled, and the deer fled again
Lily began to scratch his cheek, and moan,
Making him seem mad; yet he was not mad.
‘”Thus says she; ’tis my duty to look after thee,
And that thou dost so often find,
Thy self doth still abide with that poor slave,
That hath no man to love but him alone:
So for thy self thou wast a slave, a slave of that time;
Yet now it doth complain, and presently it cheers;
‘Thy self doth still be a slave to me,
And now a slave to thee I am but a slave.’
‘But if my self was my self, my self should stay,
And this self should no more be a slave to thee,
Thy self for thyself doth remain a slave to thee:
And this self doth stay a slave to thee:
This self doth stay a slave to me and yet remain
Thy self for thyself doth remain a slave to thee:
This self doth stay a slave to thee and yet remain
Thy self doth stay a slave to thee,
Thy self doth stay a slave to thee,
Thy self doth stay a slave to thee,
Thy self doth stay a slave to thee,
Thy self doth stay a slave to thee,
Thy self doth stay a slave to thee,
Th


======== CHECKPOINT 032 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Zucker will make my hand my tie;
What would it then have been, had he not his wits,
Which tied him up so tenderly?
“My wife, what a doting wife you are!
She hath given me my heart, and I love her so,
That my mind can think of nothing else but her,
She doting loves like herself doth live and die,
And when she dies she doth make me bleed for her.
‘So shalt thou excuse me from this, thou shalt not make me forget,
In this I will give unto thee some small recompense;
My body shall bear thee a heavy punishment:
For the poor child thou shalt love doth die;
For the poor child, in the shape thou see’st,
Thy self in the matter thou art guilty of thy grief,
Yet being dead shall not make thee better;
So shall thy husband and his wife make thee more,
Which will they so love and so love thy life;
For if in thee this love should stain thy heart,
Then I have never in thy soul been bred,
Nor never in thy heart a son shall reign,
Thy heart is as strong as thy womb and thy brain
As his youthful limbs as his body’s brain’s body;
My soul is like thy spirit, and in me like
The body’s sweetest part, the heart’s part,
My heart is as bright, and in my heart like
the sky, my thoughts sweet, but not so bright.
No love hath power to stop me,
But at the hand of a man or a horse
The same man, with same speed, so fast, so fast,
That I cannot catch up to him in my thoughts,
And yet with my thoughts I see that I am not,
And therefore cannot see what a world of false excuses
To me seem strange and ridiculous!
‘”And now he starts, and bids her turn
Her lips to their own accord, and do his wont
With gentle touch and tongue; and in their tongues
She calls the fair Lucrece of Cyrene,
For she will speak of thee in Lucrece’ chamber;
O, how do I love you, but my heart hath sworn
To kill thee? thou wilt, I fear my dear heart,
To make my love of thee my enemy?
My love, I will love thee like to kill thee,
Unless thou give me thy part, or one part
Thou art to blame, and yet I’ll do my worst.
‘But why, what of thy true self doth lie,
And yet his eyes do not see the fair Lucrece doth lie,
For thou dost love to love, and not to love doth steal:
For love doth kill; love doth steal; love doth make thy self come;
Wilt thou help her to steal the precious jewel
That shall bestow upon thee all eternity?
O pardon her in her tears, and in her grief:
Or should I pardon her in my rage,
O pardon her in my lust, and in her jealousy?
Or should I pardon her in my woe?
O pardon her in her tears, and in her grief:
Or should I pardon her in my woe?
O pardon her in her tears, and in her grief:
O pardon her in her tears, and in her grief:
O pardon her in her tears, and in her grief:
O pardon her in her tears, and in her grief:
O pardon her in her tears, and in her grief:
O pardon her in her tears, and in her grief:
O pardon her in her tears, and in her grief:
And yet are not thy kind to forgive,
And yet dost thou make me laugh again,
And then dost thou think I am in love?
O no! thou wast not my lover when I was
So cold and sober, and then thou livest
In the cold cold and sober state I am.
When the fire cool’d and all fell asleep,
A lovely dove, with wings on her back,
Came down to feed, and laid a hand upon it;
She did kiss the fair dove, and, kissing it,
Would make the sweetest puddle she could find.
“Now, sweet Lucrece, how shall I begin to look after thee,
The one for whom I strive, the other for whom I fear?
How will I say this to my friends,
Or to them that I have to blame,
Or any of their worth to my benefit?
When the other for whom I have to complain
Sets their faces white, and bids them see that I am gone,
So shall they hate me, and hate me no more.
To


======== CHECKPOINT 033 OUTPUT # 001 ========

OWS of a woman’s face,
Whose fair lips did they view with astonishment;
Which of her own accord did the sun begin
To sing a verse, of which I must say:
O no love, love; my love is none but my heart!
Love’s true heart must live with thee in thy parts;
When thou wilt, thou art my true heart,
To love, my true heart thou art,
And yet love is my heart’s enemy.
If thy soul in thee were true,
And my true heart as thou art,
The enemy could not be, nor the matter
The course of my thoughts would permit
To pass my soul’s way, and thence from thence I dote,
To go where my sweet will lives and live,
To live with others, but not with thee.
‘My self thou art, my self I am,
And my self thou art, and mine is neither.
My self, my self’s self, my self’s self,
For thou art my self, my self thy self’s self;
To be thyself in this false world, so make it true,
For every part of me thy self’s self shall live.
No one shall steal my heart’s treasure,
My heart, for love of thee, but one thing;
For me I love, and thee I love,
Thy sweet spite and the world’s pride
Shall be revenged on me.
‘Love’s true heart cannot live,
Love’s true heart, my self’s true heart,
My self, my self, my self, my self,
In my self’s false self do come,
The false self’s true self kill me,
Or else do all my heart’s music rehearse.
Who with that fair love shall I not die,
To die like a poor beggar, or like a froward beggar?
I am not made for thee, nor I have been,
But thou hast been the father of this wrong;
But now, this poor boy being put to bed,
Than ever I can think, and no imagination do know,
This dark stain shall leave my sorrows in clear;
And hence shall he remain till he be blind,
For it doth I not know if this man hath sight
The world hath but pity’s sickness,
He hath no sorrow in sight;
But in spite of that he hears the rustling,
The poor thing being driven to the ground.
‘Tis he, his mistress, what thou want’st
For him in his own private love; for him no man can love,
but thou must myself kill him;
‘Tis him that kills me, not that I kill him;
And if this be thy self’s wife, thou must kill me again.
“So be it: I’ll obey him,
And keep away from my friends, where thou lov’st them:
If thou go, I’ll kill thee at that moment.”
Thus he leads her to the door,
To where she finds her father weeping.
“Oh let me not toil with this, my dear boy;
The day is not far off, and yet time’s night
Is short and weary, the hour’s time of end
To put on the cloak of a more wintry mood;
But do not be weary of me, for I am strong:
For tomorrow I do swear to thee, and not to thee,
That I am thy lover and not a fool.
Look at my pretty face, what beauty hath it
Made of thine eyes, that have all the beauty of stone,
And of thine own face did stain so;
But now, like a sun that hath no place,
Sinks this vile hue into the sky:
From him he leaps, but all his wind takes his eye:
And from her the wind comes in his way,
Whereas his face was in fair curls,
And all fair beauty fell into her cheeks,
Which, wringing their curls, each cheek lay
Like an earthling, as one in a bath;
And the painter drew their faces in his glass,
The subject to his craft the painter made,
And beauty the same to him,
Like a child, to the earth, that was his child,
Hath put all his beauty in my image,
And made all my life in my image his;
Then was it for thee to tell me,
The reason why thy love lives and thy death?
‘Yet this, O good God, shall thy reason make,
And to mine you shall belong,
That is to me to give thy love back.
Now, I, that art a god, and to thee this,
O, that art a god, not a man,


======== CHECKPOINT 033 OUTPUT # 002 ========

crib in the grave of the deceased, which had him brought by her hand; and as they did so, as if from desire he should say,
“‘Tis ne’er begun;—’Tis writ upon her brow, and in her cheek.
The woman in question hath been to be confounded,
That the thing which is writ upon her brow is new,
When by old age the beauty of your soul have
Made a new discovery, thou art a son of mine.
Thus she lies still with the sighs of her mourners,
To hear the bereaved sing, and yet to love her weep,
She thinks them dead; and when the nurse will speak,
For she’s sick, and the cure is near.’
The old lady is a nun, and a nun is a murderess.
‘Now,’ quoth she, ‘if it be lawful,
To leave my arms behind, and leave my breast behind,
But for love’s sake let those breasts be full of fear;
That on their lean breasts it may be supposed,
That their deaths were to him the sole end,
Even if by death the spoil were no more.
And, being so hotly ensconced,
with no resistance she bids him stay,
Who being gone she bids him make the move.
Then did her maid depart; as she had not seen,
Or seen her for a second time,
As she goes along on her horse, till she sees
A woman in the air, and a man in it:
And then, in a desperate attempt, her maid did speak:
“Ay, excuse me, but I am not afraid;
She’s no maid to your fair good-will,
She’s your kind, and your kind not her.
She’s but your father and your mother’s daughter,
The two being equals, the one your dear heart,
The other your mortal heart, the other your mortal body.
Thy heart is old, and thy flesh is young;
The blood of life, thy whole being dead.
‘For thou art in debt of the devil,’ quoth she,
“‘What debtor of mine didst thou lend me?”
‘My dear boy,’ quoth she, ‘you have a lot of work to do,
Take me away in time of need,
Let me not live till I have done all things well.
My good-pleading father in my heart hath been slain,
And he hath no love, but in this, that thou dost love,
With the whole truth, with the truth, with thyself,
For it is true, thy self, thy self, and all those;
That thou art so self-conceit that for it all thee.
But in my heart the truth is true, and the love is false,
And all thy truth’s false with thee, as thou gav’st
For theft is but theft’s fee, and thou wast thy friend.
‘Let me have no love with this, no lust in that.
Love is a gross devil, not a devil,
Nor a bastard, nor a swine, nor a bear,
But a child of a gentle and kind-hearted father;
For by that he meant to do this harm,
When, feeling an offence being done,
With more vehement rage, and more severe fear:
Her face doth look upon him, his lips do smile,
And with her breath he spongeth, and with his breath she sings;
And in her arms she rests his head,
And then his head doth fold back;
That being done, his lips do likewise begin;
And each part thus exclaiming,
As one to one the wind did fly,
Who by wind did fly, that rose that from the air.
Then is he so overcome, as when she stood,
she gives him his hand, and her breath
She gazes on him with eyes that have seen her;
And with that she shakes him by the neck,
And bids him go, but with her own motion
She drops his hand upon his neck and wails:
And with that her fingers fasten him to his bed.
As he walks she wails with sorrow,
And like a clamorous dove she calls
“How can love live?”
Then will she plead with him that she did see him;
She may say it for him, she thinks it for himself;
Her tears may well have discharged;
And when his breath is out, and her breath sweet,
He will drink it from her, and she must take
The rest, and to herself he will not go:
O, poor child, thou art too much to bear;
My tears must be sweet, and my weeping shall overflow
Till tears drench my face and wrinkle my


======== CHECKPOINT 033 OUTPUT # 003 ========

letico and Rome have been the only two sovereign powers in Europe to live together, as well as be their equals in common: so that when the Romans have confided their minds, the Romans have confided ours;
The argument I make in my life, which I hold true,
Hath made the common bond between them,
And brought forth the new bond between them.
‘And thou, in this matter, the brawny pate,
And chaste gentry so credulous?
What will I do to defend thee in my case,
Or to reprehend thee in my argument?
‘But in thy argument,’ quoth he, ‘this is a matter of skill,
And thou shouldst have the advantage of this plea;
The defendant will be thy self, and thou the guilty;
Then, like a fair thief, he will not be caught;
And thus the question is put to rest, with the defendant’s plea:
‘O shame and scandal, that on my brow this disgrace doth lie!
This, in my self-declared state,
That I have no other purpose but to dwell:
For this, as in many murders, is my name,
My love being my own, and being my friend,
Hath drawn it from me, and from all other men:
Then ’tis my own right that hath it made.
Love for me is a love of duty,
For duty to me is not enough,
to love me is enough:
“This time I will not hunt the huntsman,
Nor drink his liver’s water;
Nor eat the liver’s liver;
Nor kill him in a second;
Nor lend him a hand, nor borrow his sword;
Nor lend him a knife, nor strike him dead,
Nor make him swear that he hath no part.
‘But thou wilt see the love-sick fool,
Thy sight doth prove so evil,
My self forswore the cause that thou wilt live.
‘And being late, lo, her eyes were as bright
As summer’s drooping sun, and violet as her light.
‘”Thence he began, ‘Thou art thy friend, my friend;
And I am thy god, my god, my god,
Which by my deeds I did swear the oath,
With which I have no other object but my will.
‘This,’ quoth she, ‘I am the painter, and thou art my god,
Which thou shalt bring to life the painter’s image,
And to the image of my worth in posterity;
Thy gift to my gift shall live and live to die,
So to live thou shalt have to live with me.
So thou shalt not give me life, nor life to die,
But life to die with thee, and I shall live with thee:
And then shalt thou die, and life to live with thee,
For I am my own, and thou art thy lord and master.’
A look through the floodgates of Troy,
Will show that this image which thou sought doth lie,
And show thy worth, which in thy worth doth lie:
For this thou must show me, that thou art so rich.
Thence Troy doth approach, and her majesty
Sets upon her fair face the captive of Troy,
And calls on the Greeks, who on the shore hold her,
To render the swift-footed beast their arms.
‘And now, as she was gone,
A loud moan came from out a hill that had been her seat,
The sound being said in praise of Lucrece,
whom she had drawn to her breast,
To show where she would spend her long life.
“The question is this: why, in your sleep did I make thee sit,
My love and mine in one bed?
And did I sleep by accident or accident?
But now this, why didst thou leave me so far off?
Or, supposing I may make another suggestion,
By some mortal fault which no man shall ever behold,
Or by that foul fault which cannot be blamed,
How did thy love come to this?
I have sworn never to tell the tale
Nor to touch the heart of this matter,
My oath, nor my conscience’s advisance to forbid it.
‘Thou art my true love, thou art my friend;
Thou art the true, thou shalt not betray;
Thou art the false, thou shalt not confess:
Thou art not my friend, thou shalt not trust:
Thou art my friend, and yet thou art my thief.
Thou art my friend, and yet I am my friend’s slave:
Thou art my friend, and yet I am thy thief.
thou wast not my friend, thou


======== CHECKPOINT 033 OUTPUT # 004 ========

neurological it did call for his aid,
And she, as if he were ill, did do him the kindness.
She takes him by the hand, and she in him by the neck;
She with all her might, takes all the strength,
And if she could not get the strength to push on,
Thou hast no strength, and nothing is left
To force the wound, and it being eased,
The wound cures with a continual groan,
And being discharged, it lives again.
‘So thou shalt be the first in this line,
To make this my theme: so shall we be;
And for the sake of thy glory, be thy advocate;
And in this hope shall he grow, and he die in thy bed.’
‘Ay,’ quoth he, ‘I will teach thee how to kiss;
To kiss in the tender breast, if thy breast be open,
Give me a fresh kiss, and thou shalt see it;
Be happy I, and you never again.’
‘”For love is a thing of extremes;
That you may give it life with your tongue.”
“And then she goes on to say,
“As a boar, being fed by a gentle moose,
Tends to scratch and scratch with a tail.
He takes the lead, and falls again;
O, what an audacity to say that thou art a tame;
thou hast made my soul your acquaintance;
Thy brain hath been thy nurse, and my heart my guide;
For when thou dost give my soul his breath,
I will be thy slave, as the turtle takes him;
My heart hath my soul, and mine dear heart my wife,
Whilst thou livest in me thy servant,
My heart’s treasure I may not make thee,
And do me no good with my part.
‘Thus I pray, thy help, to have me,
So as I may return, thy aid to my doom,
And all my love’s effect, to my love’s end.
“And then he is gone, and we both join
In a dark place, like a hive,
Hiding a shadow, which, like a poisonous weed,
Entombs the pine with fresh sap, and leaves the green.
“Ah! my dear love, thou shalt not find me
The true beauty that thy love doth beguile;
For when thou art old, thou art no better than I.
This iniquity of thy body did tempt thee,
To spite her love; and when she did tell him,
Her eyes were wide open wide, and they doted
On the thing he sought, and on the thing she saw.
And, having thus commended his trespass,
She begins her story, and bids them abide,
With the thought that their wills should govern.
‘But in my heart, if any foul deed be committed,
And in the rest of my body my conscience base,
But as I am alive, it may well be,
That thou, my life, be so foul that none should touch it.
This I did not intend; for he did make
an oath of secrecy respecting me.
‘O that I am not to say I know,
All the rest are true, and none false,
And thus my soul, in judgement of them,
Doth question every part of the world.
‘The sun being up, as it goes about,
Whilst my eye upon this moving cloud bewray
Comes on a cloud that clears the sun’s sky.
In this state the moon lies,
Whereon his heavenly head doth hover,
Like an angry devil, with a devil’s brow,
And on her back is a mirthless frown:
‘Look how her eyes did change,
When she was a devil’s slave, when she a god,
With all her might and all her grace,
Her eye, which had the heat of a fire,
Was bright, but did not do that which it should know.
‘Thus being advised, she begins again:
To quench her angry desire;
To mend his eye, which so weakly
Asunder did fly from his skill,
Like a turtle breaking from his turtle shell;
To scratch, and to fly again,
With a mighty tide that shakes all things from their shore.
‘How should I have a child with thy husband,
And love be a husband’s child,
Nor a father’s son, nor a wife’s husband?
Why should any but thy sweet wife be so kind?
Thou art my husband and my husband my husband;
To love you as I do you, I will teach thee all;
To love thee as I do you, I will teach thee nothing;
And then, being gone, I’ll call


======== CHECKPOINT 033 OUTPUT # 005 ========

siblings but in his hand drew up another knife.
‘Why should I do this?’ quoth she. ‘I’ll kill him first; but then be a butcher,
I’ll be a nurse; then a husbandman.’
The poor old man shook his head, and the young man by him fled.
And he that was so fair-complexioned and so fair,
To the world’s eye her fairest show would seem more than short.
But, seeing her, she hath fled, and yet her love
Is still with thee, and where is her;
She shall remain as a poor widow;
Or in the form of a woman, whose wits, wit, and will,
By their blood-drenched properties will mix and match;
That every part of thee is as white as snow,
But in my self is as white as snow.
That his face I did not see,
In the midst of many, but in thy face,
Whereon, like a king or prince, I was dazed.
‘Thou know’st not thy true name,’ quoth she,
‘Thou know’st not thy true name,
but thine own self shalt inherit all mine;
But mine is thy true self, thou shalt not steal my name,
Myself thy father’s wife, thy own self thy husband,
Thy own self to be thy husband, thy own self thy widow.
‘”And if thou live, I’ll set thee to hunt;
For I did desire thou to hunt; and by this I gave
My life’s worth and power to hunt;
Thy body’s worth is none; thy body is all.
‘But to chase him with another, I will use
The means of my pleasure to give thee more.
‘”This, dear Lucrece, is not enough;
Nor I this day in a remote city
But to answer Adonis again will not say;
For if it were, it was not a word I spoke;
‘Yet’— ’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’tis true—’


======== CHECKPOINT 034 OUTPUT # 001 ========

Brand and the rest,
Which each in his self, doth give and take,
Each gives life, but he gives none:
Which by him life takes a lesser part;
So, from his own free will, every last
Of his will, and every last drop
His will, lives or dies, and thou shall not be.
Thus to me the night is a wondrous day,
The sweet light and gentle spring fresh from the ground,
Which, from the fresh air, takes on a fresh colour,
Showing it from thence in fresh and fresh plants:
For to the fresh air in fresh and fresh plants,
Fresh flowers, fresh shapes, new blossoms,
Of fresh and fresh plants, or fresh matter,
Fresh wit, fresh smell, fresh colour, fresh grace,
A new beginning that was before,
Showing all new and new creation,
And new delight to be had,
And new delight and new loss to be had,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to be had,
new sorrow to be had,
And new joy to be had,
new fear, new delight,
And new fear and new delight,
Making each new thing strange, new delight to find,
And new delight to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
Making each new thing new and new,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A new beginning, new ending,
And new joy to find,
A


======== CHECKPOINT 034 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Peace and her husband, that thou dost strive to make a husband of him,
The better of two beauties, whose parts might more interchange,
Or each more bright, than all their parts may seem.
So am I with you this night, as thou hast come by night,
For fear of foul night, I will slay thee with fair night.
So do I at supper make my bed, and then
My bed that thou hast laid for my needs,
But when you have done all my parts in one,
Then all my parts in one shall seem so,
And one beauty in one in thy parts is lost.”
‘The thing I call my heart and heart’s art
And every other thing that is in it,
Or makes it what it is.
‘”Nor by the force of thy words do I fear thee;
The heart, that lends my heart music,
Presents him to the eyes, to be toyed,
To kiss his back, that should in it render ill,
And then all the world will see him writ teary,
When in a world so full of heaviness
Hath not so much heaviness as to weep,
The sick would think my heart was dead,
And, behold, the painter of my face was liv’d!
‘Thou art this,’ quoth she, ‘a painter’s wife:
And by this her husband did appear;
My heart as one, and his being my head,
So are thy parts one, and one for me,
Which my heart, like to a dove, is gored.
And if thy beauty are not as thy face should bear
The proud eagle, then thy beauty is not so;
Even as thy beauty doth bear my name,
My beauty doth bear thee that I do call thee.
‘In the hope of thy sweet desire, I’ll do it
The more with thy outward strength, to show you my shame,
To see what it is that thou art afraid of,
That thou dost fright my heart to this end;
My heart beats the world’s heart, that it beats thee so.
O then thou art true and true,
that in this state thou mayst stand,
Or that in this state, thou mayst do my face wrong.
By this thou shalt never know me,
Nor the days to come till I do tell you of me,
Thy heart I know but from thy outward self,
And from thine own self mine alone to judge,
Or else thou art the self thou dost see,
Yet I can not see thee in that state,
Because thou in me do not yet possess.
The stars do not make the heaven dim
with their glory dim their light.
‘Then tell this to my dear sweet wife,’ quoth she,
“This night I’ll be here, and tomorrow night I’ll be gone.
When in thee, I may well approve
Of the beauty of my self,
The other to that beauty befits,
For it behooves thee most to be here.
That thou art thy self, and not thy self,
As to that which others perceive thee,
To show what we are and to speak of thee,
Thy self hath not been in this life and thee not,
And for this I will not reproach thee so,
Till all that is written shall be written to tell
The story of thy self, my self, thy self,
Till all this is out-dated and out-recalled,
For my self shall be remembered by posterity.
When all of you in me have died,
When all of you to me have come home,
And all of you to me have died,
Now I am gone, my sorrow and my praise,
And mine shall dwell in eternal memory,
And all your praises shall dwell in eternity.
O if you were not a true love,
Then how can you be a true friend?
If you could not be a true friend,
How can I be a true friend to you?
Then wherefore do I seek revenge for my loss?
O if you could not be an instrument,
And make a true instrument, what a false instrument!
But when you are made an instrument in me,
If I was a true instrument, you would be an instrument.
And then I do repent of thee, and thou wilt repent.
‘And now the sad crow, that hath begun to cry,
Is upon a tree in one of the hills;
When it sees it, it cries out ‘O, thou devil of a god,
Wherefore love is my sport, and beauty my delight!
For thou, my love, art my true love,
And thus my love is born again,
That by thy help


======== CHECKPOINT 034 OUTPUT # 003 ========

gio that the world may know;
And in thee I give praise.
The best of all is love.
But to hear a song by a pretty mother,
To weep for the world’s loss,
As the lark, that loves all, must,
To have the most of it; yet not the other,
To leave all, and live where all are lost.
Her grief-stricken husband sighs, his blood
Cried, “O, my darling wife, thou wilt not be gone,
I’ll live where thou dost not drown me.”
‘O,’ quoth she, ‘he will live where thou dost drown me;
The sooner we die, the greater our glory!
This false heart of a sad woe,
To blame all offences on the faultless:
His name, his office, his majesty,
His honour to his subjects, his fame, his fame’s disgrace:
So many, that by their treason may be blamed,
In others’ affairs, his orators’ disgrace.
‘In thee,’ quoth she, ‘I give thanks:
No excuses, no excuse of my offence:
But in thy deeds, do I not say that I love thee,
To show myself to have praised thy name?
For where else but in thee thy name’s praise,
O where else but that name in thee lies,
Thy honour, to thy honour, thy honour’s disgrace?
In thee are these words compounded,
To show that in me thou dost show
The true love, and the true shame,
That in thee dost all lies the true shame.
O, how false a conceit
I was! I am, my self I am!
But if thou think on my deeds,
Thy self I am not, and therefore thou dost compare,
Is thy self thy self, thy self thy self,
And my self my self to thee be.
The best of all is love.
To say so, that beauty in thy form
Was so perfectly made,
By a man’s grace, a man’s lust, a man’s envy;
It is not fair to make a false painter so,
By that which is but imperfect.
In his painting, his worth did not increase
As his worth as his character did increase.
He that doth call him by his art,
A master that no painter ever saw,
That he did in his work his own image;
His work, in that, he calls his art.
‘So that it may seem, as a fool to see it,
With my own image it shall be,
And yet the poor fool which buys it will be.
For, being poor, my eye cannot perceive thee,
Nor it beholds my ill that it doth view thee.
‘But he hath told me, that thou dost be wise,
And my tongue hath told thee, that thou dost teach,
Of the time of thy decease, to the next,
When I must call thee a deceiver,
When the time hath forced thy fame upon my lips,
So my time, in my self, is past.’
She sits, smiling, still, in his arms;
And in his arms, in his brow,
Her chin, her chin in his hand,
Her chin in his breast, his breast in hers.
How could she that by nature should bear
Thy part in her own infirmity
Have she but to love him so.
When she heard the commotion of his name,
She did the thing, and he the thing,
And they both did go.
“The roses are roses, the air sweet and clear,
They are the chief flowers in every park,
Sweet as summer’s day, and yet milder than snow.
They are spring’s season, sweet and mild,
Of prime abundance and short of decay.
My self being but my love,
Or that which I am, being of thee,
If I ever was but a thing,
Then love is thy other self.”
“O then I will never love thee,” quoth she,
“O love, what are you?
You have done more than me.”
“How much less?” quoth she, “why then do I have
This dear thought, this dear feeling,
Which your love and I have made?
What a world you made where love was confined!
I’ll take my joy elsewhere,
In your love-drenched State;
Or else in your love-drenched State,
Or in your love-drenched State,
Do you not see the same thing?
O, why, love hath made love’s objects so much clearer!
All things that were before, are now gone.
For with the wind


======== CHECKPOINT 034 OUTPUT # 004 ========

mg with love?
And where is thy body, to show thee shame?
That thy virtue, that thy virtue’s worth,
If thy virtue are to be seen, thou mayst need
That thou mayst do me shame, and to show my shame.
He that fears me, I will do thee harm;
And when he that fears me, I will do him good.
She sighs and shakes her head, and on her knee
Bending his chin, she runs, and leaps again,
And to the horse on his back comes she
And, like a bird, leaps; her high-pitched hoarse voice
Grieves her to see him again;
And like a clam when it is blown,
A clam to drown in a well-blessed well,
Will be the clam that drowns the well:
Her grief will not drown the well;
Her grief will drown in her sorrow.”
Her sweet love doth give her light and cheer,
And her fair love doth give her fear;
Love doth kiss her when it doth kiss her.
She that did kiss her, doth kiss her in the wind,
And in the air that she should kiss her own sweetly:
If she doth kiss me, I’ll kill her;
And if not, kill my self and all my friends.
‘I think my soul to-day with this plague,
That she herself in her sorrow hath left,
So I to-day am dead and gone,
As she to-morrow wakes again to-morrow.
‘Well,’ quoth she, ‘though I never look upon thee,
My soul knows not thy face, thy name, thy name’s name.
My self hath sinned against me,
And then my self I cannot blame:
But you did that for me, and then I blamed you,
So do I now, and then you do my fault,
So do I now, and then I curse thee,
O thou whose true self thy self so boast,
Even as thou maketh my love false and false,
That thou in thy self is in fault of me.
If thou lov’st, thy self is dead.
“O, look how I did wrong her; how I did make her happy,
She took away her glass of water,
And put on the hot bath, like a lamb,
Which in the hot water did drink forth the juice.
I have often been astonished with the beauty
Of so fair a creature as she,
That my dear Lucrece’ tears do more than cover them.
O, dear boy, as thou shalt look upon my face,
I will not say to-day, “O shame,”
“O, oh dear boy, my face is black;
A bloody eye, crooked, and deep red;
That in my cheek is a deadly infection,
And that in my face’s base hide is decay.
‘Look at my face,’ quoth he,’my face looks like a devil’s tongue;
To that which on the cheek appears a sad frown,
Then is it for my sake to say,
That my face is like a devil’s tongue in my tongue?
Yet, on my chin appears in true dread;
So my face is like a devil’s tongue in my tongue’s?
How strange then my eyes when they shine red!
O, my self, with my self my self’s shame!
When in thee that on earth doth hide,
Mineself am I mine own disgrace!
As mine own self mine self in shame doth hide,
Mineself am I mine self’s pride!
Thou art mine own thief, thy self thy self’s shame!
Thou art not mine own, mine is thy self’s shame!
Thou art all of my self’s self’s shame, my self’s shame:
O how many proud and self-sabbrings of thy self’s pride!
My self, my self, my self’s shame!
My self, my self, my self’s shame!
thy self, thy self’s shame!
thy self, thy self’s pride!
thou art all my self’s shame, thy self’s pride.
Thou art all mine own pride, thy own pride!
Thou art all mine own shame, thy self’s pride!
Thou art all mine own shame, thy self’s pride!
Thou art all mine own pride, thy self’s pride!
O mine self, mineself’s pride!
O mine own pride, mine own pride!
O mine self, mine self’s pride!
Thou art mine self’s shame, thy self’s pride!
O mine own pride, mine self’s pride!
For thou art mine self’s shame, thy self’s pride:


======== CHECKPOINT 034 OUTPUT # 005 ========

DEBUG.

That’s why they use the plague to keep the poor from selling:
And to my love’s delight I kill them not;
For then they, to sell me, must be rich and be
Poor, I have no right to kill you,
Even to call you dead, you see to it
When you die, I love you still, and to thee still.
“If I lived, thou wouldst not love me,
For love is in love; why art thou in love with thine eye?
Thou art dead, thou dost not love me,
Or thou dost return to me, my lord.
‘Why didst thou leave me so far, my love?
‘Why didst thou forsake me, my love?
For I love thee, thou shalt return my love.’
“O, this false wretch, heretic, and fool
Who in her poor state, like a child at a feast,
Strayed all night, and day till noon till sun-dapp’d.
The thought of her youth seems a riot;
For, in the shadow of the stars, the night’s glory
Held forth his fire, and his light fled.
Yet to this the birds’ nest-lily,
Like the proud princess of a fair hill,
Where she shows to be proud of age,
Her self is no beauty, but beauty’s slave;
O, she did not fear him; in her heart she was kind;
She that knew him not, knew not love’s disgrace.
“Ay, hie, ay, but thou shalt not kiss my hand,
When thou art bound in bondage to my love.
For mine, love is the holiest stone,
And when mine is set to decay,
No man may question it; no man, though he look
To see my tender hand, touch it till I die.
‘Why,’ quoth she, ‘this time thy love doth commence,
Even so thy wits have begun to break,
And in my absence hast lost all sense of thee.
Thy beauty hath shrunk and gone away.
The sun doth stop their sun, and the cloud
Will not disperse the hot glow of their hot face.
But ’twas the time of your birth,
With an older age than your fair self did endure.
“Ay, hie, ay, but thou shalt not kiss my hand,
When thou art bound in bondage to my love.”
‘Ah, yes, my love! what shall I do?
Avenge me, my love, on that which thou dost curse me,
For love’s stain hath not yet begun,
But the same thing that I did before was.
That thou art now the debtor of my love!
Then why dost thou not repent,
For then the debt my love hath committed,
The sum is not even my sum will bear,
What it would cost to me.
A hundred silver shillings, I will not touch;
Then let the fair queen weep, and give thee rest.
“Thy self is no beauty, but that of thee,
Which in thy pure form hath it thine own power,
And makes the true self a god and to worship;
That it may not be false, but may be true,
Of which thou art thy self’s debtor,
And, as a debtor, to owe thee again.
What part of thee should not he played
When that honour is so expressly sworn?
Then by this fault all blame shall lie,
And each of thy offences asunder shall lie:
Yet now, being so much loved, I have been told
My poor soul shall never live and never die.
O, then thou art the one guilty of so great a sin!
O yet thou art my love, and thou art in no way my friend:
As thy self art not thy self, thy self, thou art guilty of this sin.
But thou that art my friend, thou art my sweet friend,
And yet thou that thou hast no one, canst not bear me,
The world is my friend, and so thy self is my friend.
As thou art my friend’s sweet friend, so be it,
I will not have thee in my soul to kiss.
Love is but a false god, a deceiving fraud,
Who disguiseth in counterfeit and in falsehood,
And in deceiving men deceives women,
And in deceiving the world in deceiving,
All things are made of two, and they are one,
To make one more false a better,
And this false a worse be.
Then do I say, ‘Tis for thee to love me more,
For I will not be loved more in thy bed.’
Love is love, or at


======== CHECKPOINT 035 OUTPUT # 001 ========

restraints of time; and with the rest he beheld, to the very end he might know their shape.
But not his eyes, nor his ears, nor his eyes’ colour, nor his lips’ taste, nor his lips’ colour’s taste,
Nor his lips’ colour’s taste’s smell, nor his eyes’ colour’s smell, nor his lips’ colour’s taste,
Nor his lips’ colour’s smell’s smell, nor his lips’ colour’s taste,
Nor his lips’ colour’s smell’s smell, nor his lips’ colour’s taste,
Nor his lips’ colour’s smell’s smell, nor his eyes’ colour’s taste,
Nor his eyes’ colour’s taste, nor his lips’ colour’s taste,
Nor his eyes’ colour’s smell, nor his lips’ colour’s taste,
Nor his eyes’ colour’s smell, nor his lips’ colour’s taste,
Nor his eyes’ colour’s taste, nor his lips’ colour’s taste,
Nor his eyes’ colour’s smell, nor his lips’ colour’s taste,
Nor his eyes’ colour’s smell, nor his lips’ colour’s taste.
O let his brow, his back, his chin, his back, his neck, his lips, his chin, his neck,
Or his tongue, his chin, his back, his neck, his chin,
Let every part which moves in his being,
Then his body may not dismount,
For now, for some trespass, my mind doth detain,
And now my heart doth question;
And now my heart doth question, my heart doth tremble,
And now my heart doth tremble, and now my heart doth rage,
For now, for some trespass, my heart doth arrest,
And now my heart doth arrest, and now my heart doth fight,
For now, for some trespass, my heart doth arrest,
And now my heart doth arrest, and now my heart doth fight,
For now, for some trespass, my heart doth arrest,
And now my heart doth arrest, and now my heart doth fight,
And now my heart doth arrest, and now my heart doth fight,
And now my heart doth arrest, and now my heart doth fight,
And now my heart doth arrest, and now my heart doth fight,
And now my heart doth arrest, and now my heart doth fight,
Yet all these things I have not thought of,
Yet have not seen, yet I have not imagined.
“This,” quoth she, “this foul and venomous suit of mine eye,
Whose foul and venomous eye shall not be disarmed,
Nor his foul eye shall be disgraced;
And so, in my rage, my revenge be;
My foul eye be put to death, my foul heart to die.
This was my sovereign duty to you,
A sovereign slave of the devil,
But if not from thee, it may be my doom,
To slay a king, or break the sovereignty of my land.
“Thy servant,” quoth he, “why wilt thou leave me alone?
Or else will I come, and be thy guest,
And by thy side I will be thy servant?
Thy love will bear my poor eye, and thy worthless heart;
thy worth will do me shame, my shame is my disgrace:
And for the sake of my mistress’ eyes,
Hang on that thy loyal tongue will wail her praises,
Thy voice shall hurl the fair winds that blow:
My lips shall wail her sorrows, and my lips’ sour strains;
Mine own eyes, in thy self-controlling lust,
Will ever stain my face, or stain my sight,
And to thee, I will pay eternal debt.
“Ay my dear friend, do not break this oath,
If by thy will thee break, it is lawful for me to do.
And then, Collatine, thou gav’st such a scythe:
So shall I be revenged on Collatine,
And Adon this false-god-like night,
Who deceives with false prophecies,
By disguising himself in deeds of virtuous deeds.
For behold, there’s a face that hath power and beauty,
That would not wither, nor bud wither,
But would die with him.
Then, Collatine, behold my soul, so bright it doth shine,
That from my eye it doth ill-appear,
And from my heart, being blind, I cannot see.
‘”How often, Collatine,’ quoth he, ‘during the night
Have I seen thee, and thou hast given me my night,
O, if thou w


======== CHECKPOINT 035 OUTPUT # 002 ========

deeply to see her love,
And in her heart did Lucrece express her delight;
Yet as the tears that fell, did the water change;
Whence Lucrece’ tears seemed to spill forth more,
And to his eye, on my fair breast, did overflow.
She, with wailing eyes, did exclaim;
‘O help me, my dear love, that thou art so kind,
My love,’ quoth she, ‘do help me, that thou mayst lend
thy wits to his purpose.
But my heart, having a certain love,
Will not make me abide for thy sake in frown;
If that, in my heart would make me love thee so.
‘For thy self I’ll prove false,
And be perjured, and be perjured too.
‘Therefore,’ quoth she, ‘canst thou prove me false,
I know thou art false; therefore canst thou prove me true.’
O then, sweet and gentle, thou hast my mind,
Who’s tongue, whose mind thou dost make my heart sing:
For thy lips I dally to taste thy sweet taste,
O tongue, and tongue, whose lips thou dost taste;
In these words do I hear a tune grow,
Which in thy brain is sung a tune of cheer,
For thou, gentle heart, by thy side treads:
‘Why dost thou stay, O coward fool!
And bewitch thy pride, and thou be rul’d away,
That from the day when thou dost delight,
With that day in thy pride doth life begin,
And never stops in the day’s fresh growth.
‘”O! ah! where was my heart when I was youth?
O! what foul trespass did thou make!
O! o! this foul-tun’d bed of mine eyes!
O! that wrinkled old wound, which thou dost hide!
O! that pale, woe-swelling eyeball,
That now it glows on the earth like a fire-god?
O! that rotten tooth, whose rotten grout is
Breathing forth deadly vapours like a cloud?
O! that bloodless face that doth dwell in thee,
That from my face’s pale brow doth hide all my woes?
O! that moist grave that doth dwell in me,
That from my moist grave doth lie all my woes?
O! that woe-sick and woe-sick eye,
That now it doth gaze all that foul stain:
This, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this,


======== CHECKPOINT 035 OUTPUT # 003 ========

02 in a thousand rings,
He who hath to die shall inherit thine,
And thee thine, and thy fair title.
His name is Tarquin, he is not so.
‘Dear queen,’ quoth he, ‘it is not my fault,
My faults are not my faults.
My love is strong, my love weak,
My love’s true, my love’s false,
Love’s sweet, my love’s tame,
‘But thou art thyself, my love is weak,
My love, my love, thy sweet is weak.
In mine honour dost thou dote,
And mine honour doth honour those whose name is
O that where is thy sweet? O that where thy sweet’s absence?
O that where is thy dear, my dear is bereft?
O that where is my heart’s content, my dear is broken?
Yet thou art my love, and I thy cause,
Whilst my heart’s content is thou my sorrow’s cause,
In mine honour doth thy honour’s content belong;
And hence I return again for your praise.
O my dear friend, you may in secret stay,
But in my view you see I am gone,
And if my eye doth look, thou wilt be gone.
‘So thou art dead and no more to blame,
The guilty of that which she had not even begun,
To bring blame on himself.
‘Then why didst thou make me suspect
That thy lips could taste sweet, and so did my tongue,
That I did change my motion to imitate?
For I did not know thee would ever speak,
But you should speak, and my tongue would repeat:
For by this thou know’st, I hope you still do delight.
‘O my love! how are they so dumb! they thought my heart
Was dumb, and did their eyes see all too well.
I do not intend thy love’s passing,
Nor thy good will, nor my worth, nor thy grace,
May but so be thy will, though by nature it be dead,
Bequeath this to thee, and all my will it remain,
In thee I should desire, and you, in me:
To have you, I did crave, and you in me.
‘So thou didst make me suspect that thy lips could taste sweet,
And so did my tongue, and my tongue would repeat:
Thy beauty was not so, that thy tongue may say it was;
And thy worth thy will is not your will,
And thy grace is not my will,
Nor my grace’s scope are yours.”
For this, with a heavy groan he goes,
To kiss his cheek, and to kiss his hand,
Which he again doeth, till presently they both yield.
‘Why should he not leave this, and come home,
Where he thinks he sees what he’s done?
He hears the maid’s voice, that his friend is speaking,
And she, too, to greet him in speech doth moan;
She tells him she hears him, and she in her heart
Doth adore him, and he is her heart,
And she shall kiss him more than ever, if he will not.
‘”How can my love’s love be so weak,
When I have no love besides,
Unless I do the same to him again,
And as many a date as he hath in me
May give him ten times the world’s treasure;
When he must take one of us both from thee,
And make him his own owner, and all the world’s use;
And, in thy love’s arms, in thy bosom,
And all thy parts, with the greatest variety,
Saw to hear my heart, and breathe it forth again,
And all in her whole being surfeit,
She shakes the roses and the sweet flowers with her might,
And then she woos with her love and tears the air,
With sorrow’s fair tears so dear they do bleed,
And with her tears her heav’d-up heart beats,
like to thunder she shakes her head in joy,
And makes all the tumult of Collatine’s night.
Thy love, my love, my love’s will, my love’s will be gone.
Thy will, my love, my love’s will, my love’s will be slain,
In this very place, that thou wilt so much as look,
I will do all in my will, all in thine own will;
In thine own will, my will, thy will be free.
In thy will, thy will, thy will be free.
‘So with that said, his cheek fell on her shoulder,
And she, being gone, gave him a kiss;
And with that


======== CHECKPOINT 035 OUTPUT # 004 ========

quintan’d with a cold chill, as it should be;
Yet in my bosom it was like a weeping dove.
‘O, I would, my dear love, and love you too,
Give me one kiss and let me write of you,
And tell the truth of thy love to my poor, old, and ill.
But poor Lucrece, whose breath is so cold,
Sinks, and looks pale, and doth cry aloud;
But poor Lucrece is pale, and his cheeks are pale,
To make her cry again, and again to give his breath.
‘O pardon me, how many a day have I been away,
How many a day I had no pleasure in
Thy fault, my fault is not thy fault,
Thy fault my fault is not thy fault,
Thy fault I am not thy partner in sinning,
Thy fault thy fault I am thy self’s guilty,
Thy fault my fault thy fault is thy self’s guilty,
Thy fault thy fault my fault is thy self’s guilty,
Thy fault thy fault my fault is thy self’s guilty.
‘Thou lov’st me in thy bed, in thy bosom,
That it should my soul behold, that thou shouldst lie,
That thou couldst not be my lover’s eye,
My love shall not be my object,
I will love thee in love’s dim hour,
And in love shall not be thy subject,
Nor mine own beauty shall be thy love’s sun,
Thy true self is thy best, thy true self’s worst:
That’s thine own, mine own thy self’s foul,
And mine own foul, mine own self’s fair,
Who with thy false self’s foulness hath thy fair queen,
Her name is like a cloud to thee,
And with thee is like a cloud to my self,
Whose true self, my self, thy self’s fair self’s devil,
Whose true self I, mine own, thy own and others’ owner,
Have no foul or untainted sin or crime,
And all these dainties shall not impair thy light,
O therefore this self I will make the bed,
If thou art thine, and this mine be thine.”
This verse is more than most, and most of my heart
Seems to contradict itself, for my heart hath not made this copy
Of my own, or of thy thoughts.
This thought, or some shadow thereof made,
Whose dark and false aspect seemed to hover in thee.
This thought, or some shadow thereof made,
Whose dark and false aspect seemed to hover in thee.
This thought, or some shadow thereof made,
Who seemed, from thee and to thy lips,
Thy true self thy self’s fault, thy self’s foul,
Thy true self thyself’s foul, thy self’s fair,
Whilst thou art, my self, thy self, thyself’s foul,
Thy self is thine, thy self’s fair, thy self’s fair,
Thy self art thine, thy self, thy self’s fair,
But thine is thyself, thyself’s fair, thy self’s foul,
Thy self art thine, thy self, thy self’s foul,
Thy self art thyself, thy self, thy self’s fair,
Thy self is thyself, thy self, thy self’s foul,
Thy self art thyself, thy self, thy self’s fair,
Thy self is thyself, thy self, thy self’s foul,
Thy self art thyself, thy self, thy self’s fair,
And thine is thine, thy self, thy self’s foul,
But thou art thyself thyself’s fair, thy self’s foul,
Thy self is thyself, thy self, thy self’s fair,
But thou art thyself thyself’s fair, thy self’s foul,
Thy self is thyself, thy self, thy self’s fair,
Thy self is thyself, thy self, thy self’s fair,
Thy self is thyself, thy self, thy self’s fair,
Thy self is thyself, thy self, thy self’s foul,
Thy self is thyself, thy self, thy self’s fair,
Thy self is thyself, thy self, thy self’s foul,
Thy self is thyself, thy self, thy self’s fair,
And thine is thine, thy self, thy self’s fair,
Thy self is thyself, thy self, thy self’s foul,
And thou art thyself’s self, thy self’s fair,
Thy self is thyself, thy self, thy self’s


======== CHECKPOINT 035 OUTPUT # 005 ========

gloves.
‘And I am not a god,’ quoth she, ‘nor of my kind, nor of thy power,
But that thou art my friend.’
To that end he quakes, ‘O no,’ quoth he, ‘though mine eyes be pale,
Thy hair doth hang in th’ inviting fashion,
For now the wind thy pale hands wither’st and wither’st,
But sometime on that cold spring-cold day
My heart breaks with a soft-tun’d cry,
And from his lips all my love, my best fears,
The world knows his heart but hears his weeping moans,
Which I do think shall stay his sad words.
What shall I do now that he never hears my wails,
If I kill him first? I will not kill him,
And then he will not say, ‘Kill me first.’
He will not even weep with her,
She, like a dying lamb, will take it captive.
‘Now is she with her husband; now she with him:
And now, with a view to her husband’s death,
She falls, and his knife falls again upon her.
‘And now,’ quoth he,’my mistress, this time I should have kept
Till now I should have been dead: but now, lo,
I will die of love, and not thee.’
His heart thins in her lap, and his hand on hers,
‘Hadst thou not, he would have laid hold upon me,
And now, in love, thou shouldst not hold me back.’
“The boar, the bear, the boar!
The lion, the wild boar!
The wolf, the hawks, the bear!
But my dear dear dear love,” quoth she, “I’ll go; and that, I’ll tell;
‘Thou shalt not kill,’ quoth he, ‘nor will I ever kill;
As long as thou livest, thine is life’s end.
‘Love is dead; and death is liv’d,
With no-breath’d breath will he tread the ground,
And with his rider he lies panting,
Like a dew-basket’d horse, wreathed in sweat.
‘O, look, I am thy dear friend;
Thy love, by thy hand, will give thee all my pity.’
‘Love’s love,’ quoth she, ’tis that which I desire most;
And this I fear more than he should say:
“Thou dost abuse,” quoth he, “but this is thy fault,
That we do abuse thee: let us all pray.”
“Father, that is too good a bawd
To teach me, ah, that thy sweet self still doth groan.
What a pity would I then have been,
For that sweet toy which thy sweet self doth bear,
Who in the sweetest buds doth delight,
Which from thy breast thy loving buds love to taste.
“Ay,” quoth he, “you cannot take this;
Thou wast the first, and now I am the other;
I know it, that thou didst give it to me,
For it was thou that made it to me.
‘For thou hast made my heart his slave,
My heart his slave’s slave;
Thy own heart, that gave thee thy part,
As thine own, to make it my own again.
Thy own heart, that gave thee his part,
Thy own heart, that gave thy part to make it my own.
Thy own heart, that gave thee thy part,
Thy own heart, that gave thy part,
Thy own heart, that gave thy part,
Thy own heart, that gave thy part,
Thy own heart, that gave thy part to make it my own again,
Thy own heart, that gave thy part,
Thy own heart, that gave thy part,
Thy own heart, that gave thy part,
Thy own heart, that gave thy part,
Thy own heart, that gave thy part,
Thy own heart, that gave thy part,
Thy own heart, that gave thy part,
Thy own heart, that gave thy part,
Thy own heart, that gave thy part,
Thy own heart, that gave thy part,
Thy own heart, that gave thy part,
Thy own heart, that gave thy part,
Thy own heart, that gave thy part,
Thy own heart, that gave thy part,
Thy own heart, that gave thy part,
Thy own heart, that gave thy part,
Thy own heart, that gave thy part,
Thy own heart,


======== CHECKPOINT 036 OUTPUT # 001 ========

-| the best thing in the world
Whose eye he did behold, as if he were his own,
And for his eye the gazers so proudly show’d
The one proud ornament, the other an ill
Like a boar’s hide, whereon each did lie.
“And why should my lips should my head weep,
O’er which mine eyes have writ down all mine offences
And my soul’s sorrow all mine offences mine honour,
Which like the bloodless rain doth fill the ground?
How then will my eyes weep if my heart doth weep,
For what is my fault is not mine own,
Which not my own blood, but the bounty thereof,
Have in the blood in the city of me.
He looks upon her, and she by her side
Will not believe what he says, and so he begins.
Thy eyes are dumb, thy lips are strong,
thy joints strong, thy heart full, thy heart full,
Thy blood in thy lungs in me is drained,
th’ excess of me, thy quality is gone.
Thy proud joints are done, thy joints are shaken,
Thy heart is gone, th’ excess gone, thy quality no more.
In this he concludes to list
All that thou dost iniquity hath done,
And all that dost thou wrong iniquity’s done.
So then, I can say nothing of thy shame,
whatsoever thou dost say or do,
Then nothing is mine, but my worth is well expressed.
For all that my worth in thy state,
Tells me thou art a kind of love and praise,
And to others praises of thee are well expressed,
And in thy thoughts is well advised,
The sage’s verse, the rich tale,
With all praise and praise of thee all mine.
“Lo, it was my father’s day, and he was gone,
Thy light, and all the rest in darkness:
My eyes were set upon the sky, my heart upon the ground.
No more to sing, for I know not how
To speak with lips in quiet desire,
And yet by your sweet grace give me thy tongue,
And by your sweet grace give me your tongue.
And I do love you in all your fair show,
Fair and pretty, and thou with me with all thy beauty.
‘For it is with my heart, for thy self I must be,
And thy body in me to be my mind.
‘When thou art dead, return again to me,
If in a few minutes my heart nor soul be left,
My spirit can breathe again, if thou wilt permit.
This said, he takes her by the hand,
And in their mutual embrace she wails,
Like unto a drunken maid pleading with her husband.
She looks up at him, but she doth not think he
That she saw his face as it did belong.
She replies that he must not know it,
For he hath no eyes, eyes of fair-white:
He doth not look at her, but she hears him say;
He hath no eyes, eyes, but his face lies:
Her tears are still, yet his voice is faint,
He replies, “No,” and so she on.
“No,” he quoth, “do not see me so,
My blood, that breathes, would breathe again,
And breath again still, which is the cure,
Since my blood should breath again.”
“Good night,” quoth she, “and let us go.”
Then went he by the side of a grove,
where the white-fac’d princess lay,
Bearing the poor creature in her arms,
And lo, her beauty stood in view,
As if from some cloud she were to cover it,
And thus to gain her favour she did her act:
And now that her beauty is so admired,
So do I, by this, strive to imitate thee:
‘To give thee some excuse, that thou mayst not prove so,
that thou mayst not accuse me of treason.
So shall I be revenged upon thee in this crime,
And for my sake shall I die in this unhallow’d crime,
For I know thy guilt not, nor thy guilt not;
But thou in thy act of perjury,
I do swear to thee that I am guilty of perjury,
And to avenge my murder I do swear
My life to thy self that thou wilt forgive me.
‘If thou willst repent of my murder,
And excuse me from my doom, then let it be said,
That I was thy mother’s son and was born
And that thy beauty was her child’s child,
And to thy good beauty be they both bred,
Which in


======== CHECKPOINT 036 OUTPUT # 002 ========

GENERAL

“The moment that he hath his sight to look, he’ll beheld,
The man, that doth look, is dead;
That which doth entertain him still remains,
Which is the object of love:
But now she hath an hour to tell
The sad tale, and we all laugh;
For sometime he is so dumb and speechless,
That he dares not look;
But as one should wink, another would do him good:
That was one night when, pale as day,
Like a jade in the midday sun,
With a fiery torch, doth he venture;
Like an angry boar, that would bark in the distance;
But as he is stalked, the boar replies,
By chasing him in the meantime.
“How can I tell if my love is slain?”
How can I tell if my love is saved if I stay,
And yet my love is extinct if I do stay?
No one can tell but me that my heart
Pitch’d up all her might; but one with a moan,
She falls, and that proud cry she makes.
She hath said this to a nun,
Which hath a solemn ceremony to tell
The fate of the world’s first happy age.
The grave-hanging gazers do not mourn,
Though their ranks in the world’s fair forests be laid,
Even so this, that in the pride of age,
The fairest were born but by men’s death’s quick decay,
The worst, by far the better, by virtue of age,
In virtue of old age’s quick decay but not young.
‘I’ll put my hand upon the heart of a dove,
And hold it still, till I can put my hand to his cheek,
Or tie the knot so to prevent his being gone.
‘And now that the dove is gone, I’ll swear that
The thing I am fighting is murder,
And I will bear what I shall bring to death.
If thou dost love me, that shall be thy will.’
As he prepares to kill her, her husband hears her cry,
And turns to look, fearing the dreadful sight,
To kiss his wife, her son, or none at all;
For to hear him speak, such a fear would be fatal,
That all men’s eyes would be blinded by his sight,
That their sight might see but such a thing.
“I will not kill thee, till thou wilt have thy self slain,
And then the world will excuse thee from my sight,
And from all the world thy self to be buried:
My self I will confine to thy love:
That my love may live and die in a state of grief,
The world I did not like, nor ever desire,
But from heaven I am bound now to die,
And die in an unbending web of shame.
O, let me not say that I do love thee as much,
Because in thee we have all one love,
And all one true desire, and one false heart,
That ever, ever I can see thee in my state,
The love that I so long for is dead,
And never was one for me, ever, nor ever was love renewed.
Yet for this love, love must die and be buried,
For now it lives on a living grave,
That no one may make a wish so cruel
That by a dying breath he may have a son.
O never in this universe can I see thee nor hear thee cry,
Nor ever can I love thy face nor breathe thy name,
for though thy breath breatheth it foul foul,
And yet thy soul is good and full of shame,
yet thou hast the honour to rob my blood;
I swear thy blood I am dead, and my life shall be thine,
With thee my love’s blood shall cover thy honour,
And I the living life to live in thine own blood.
‘Thou art not, ‘twixt Sinon and Troy to steal my life,
And yet thou live’st thy life by thy own crime,
Which thou hast done to steal my life from me,
Thy self being dead, thou thy self again being free.
“Lo, to make this crime more severe,
A thousand tongues may utter his name;
For where in a thousand tongues there is no offence,
Or at least none that ever harms,
If ever at all, that tongue doth utter it.”
I have sworn an oath to a false god,
To kill him, and kill his living friend;
And yet, being told this false god’s decease,
I am afraid to swear again,
To swear I saw him deceive me again.
“The thief,” quoth she, “if the warrant be


======== CHECKPOINT 036 OUTPUT # 003 ========

brance to be obdurate, that thou must not be so,
That I my love may not be reprehended.
But, in thy bosom are proud towers built,
Of gold, and jewels, and precious pearls,
Of brass, and all sorts of other dross,
And then shall I be a false god;
So shalt thou die, and I die again,
And thou art mine, and my life’s purpose is to die;
To die by that which thou hast wrought,
And to live by that which thou hast wrought for me.
He takes his knife, and hurls it at her head,
Which, trembling, she takes up the knife.
She must not have him, for he is with her;
Nor should she be so deceived;
That the world might not guess at her reason.
‘This thou gav’st me to do with my life;
But my friend’s death I intend not to stop,
Love hath power over mine, and I will not curb:
But all my self will do me wrong, and not so much,
As to be revenged on my self in my state.
‘”So that in thy sweet soul thou have done this,
To tempt thy trespass in wrong,
And so the league between thee and me to be ended,
In my body shall not play but be my sport.
Let him thus kill his lustful lust,
Let him this adulterate father of his child;
Let him this bastard that commits the crime,
That this poor bastard commits a bastard’s crime,
And for this sin is thou to blame for his crime.
‘”For as to a boy that should lose his sight,
So to a sweet girl that did lose his sight,
To a deformed infant that did lose his appetite
To a deformed wife that did lose his sight,
Thou canst not then be an object of shame,
And thus in the image of love,
O my true, my true love’s name should seem so:
That, for love of one thing, one thing else,
Thy beauty should not so easily appear,
Or so well a pure rose to be termed.
O where’s thy mistress’ face thou art when thou art most beloved,
When beauty, in thee, remains but beauty’s shade?
Or when all beauty dead, beauty’s beauty is living,
And beauty dead, beauty’s life is no better?
Or when all the best beauty live dies,
Thy best, in all, is none but twain.
‘Thus said she, ‘I have told the story,
The thing to which I have to tell with my tongue,
Which, being told, I do add to it,
When the heart which it hears calls to the aid,
Upon my tongue, I enclose it
Till every other part in a deep dread,
Is at once felt and the heart writ in mine ear.
‘I hate to have to obey another,
When I have to obey another, I fear not to say;
My heart, therefore, hath the power to make me obey;
So I, as thou art my beloved, am my love,
But as thou livest, so shall my love live,
For thou art my beloved and by thy help,
And through this thou art my friend:
Yet do not despise my love as I do,
That in me thou art my friend, though thy strength be
Die, and in me thou wilt die.
‘Tis my desire that my verse be remembered,
But thou art my friend, and so am I.
And though my friend, yet for my friend’s sake I say,
That ’tis thy beauty that makes thee my friend,
And ’tis my friend that ’tis my friend,
So is my friend to me ‘gainst my loss.
Thus did she say, ‘And thou shalt make me my slave,
And shalt curse me for my innocence,
For thou shalt have thine eye, to steal my life;
And all my shame shall be my doom,
And to be revenged upon all my shame.’
But that which my love had to give away,
Shall my soul that is left free,
And to this gain gain still to steal,
I’ll sell thee my life to be revenged upon,
By whose blood my fair fair life shall live,
And to this gain thy fair beauty in return.
And this she did conclude,
That I must live, that ’tis my love that doth die;
And this I will live, that ’tis thy friend that doth die.
‘But being dead, yet not for thy sake ‘gainst life:
‘”This is the very place where you shall dwell,
That your


======== CHECKPOINT 036 OUTPUT # 004 ========

weights you must not make haste to kill,
For then you will not see such a shame as this,
That to your sorrows you did not prepare,
Or see your cheeks full of shame,
But your grief-sick eyes, which are pale,
Have as trophies their beauty added to mine.
So she, Collatine, was born of desire,
And thus he lives.
“Let me tell thee my story of the day,
Of thy poor health, and the cold and hot fire
That burneth in the heart of a king,
And then I in his state, in thy body,
Came out, I have often wished to see thee,
And so did she leave, for I felt her desire.
But they that were with me did not return,
To-morrow, thou wilt have no need of mine,
Even if thou art dead. O no more grief’st thou that thou dost fall,
Thou shalt not love nor touch my body,
But be revenged on that which thou lov’st,
By my decease thou hast done my husband wrong.
How many a sorrow I in my state have,
And that did not last my life,
I never saw my husband bleed, nor had my love
But for his death was never so fair a sight.
O how that fair-sprung flower which thou wilt flower,
Doth grow in a bud as soft as a flower,
And in such a flower is thy beauty born.
When in the summer’s day thou hast left,
Till at night do my days pass I to-day,
And to-morrow do my days end and my nights begin.
From me, O my beloved, I will not rest,
And all my self that hath lived, till sometime thou return
Receives all my trophies; for I never had pleasure,
But all my trophies have been mine;
And as thou dost bring them to a place where they shall stay,
The treasure of a thousand lands and lands,
The gaudy revenues of so many a mansion,
Or even the honour of a thousand sovereigns,
Or even of all the earth’s one million lands,
I have the glory of heaven and earth,
And thou dost give them, and I the earth gave thee.
My love is strong, though it be hollow,
I have no strength in it but love,
And then I hate with love but as I hate,
As if from thee I should fall dead in love.
To me love is the best, though it be hollow,
Which in some kind of foul-built place,
Lust in others is strong,
And mine own reason strong, as well as his own reason strong.
‘Tis said I was a king of Rome,
And for that sake I did take this vow,
Which to this day I am so strangely silent,
That no one will believe the things I say.
I have many a love-killing story to tell,
For fear of this, I never read nor write,
If I had, I would tell every one of my friends,
Who love me so well that they cannot know me.
I have often seen the silver tongue in her eye,
That says, ‘What did I eat?’ ‘Ay,’ replies she, ‘I did not eat.’
‘So be it,’ quoth she, ‘I did but crave that thou take,
A sweet glass of sweet-smelling crystal water,
To sweeten the heart that with thy mightst crave thine.’
“That I might prove the world right,” quoth she, “for I had prophesied
And was a believing man, but have not had the light of day,
For love hath no beauty that ever may appear
Nor any thing but the semblance of one.
‘”So, poor thing, what are you, in thy might,
Thine eyes are windows into the world that do see
Thy eyes may never open unto the world thy sight,
But on thy might, that which by thy might is seen
Thy inward might canker might still see.
In his might that his might might might open the world he sought,
And he did conclude it he would not see;
And so he, fair Collatine, fell and fell he fell;
And yet he was not death, as some supposed;
Nor beauty, nor truth, nor heaven’s treasure,
But death, and death’s spoil of all goodness,
In his might his might did make him live.
‘O, what an evil deed! let him not see
What is said and done to this poor devil!
No fair that can say is fair,
Nor can a king so fair as I,
Not at Rome, where


======== CHECKPOINT 036 OUTPUT # 005 ========

>= of his skill, though for him his aim was to do good
The best of his skill was in his advantage:
That aim at which he was chiefly premeditated
Is best known to himself, and by him best known to men.
He that is fond of sweets, I shall not crave;
But whereof love is my sweet desire, I will crave more,
The one for love and beauty.
Love was not my self, but my self,
That was my self when my self was dead.
‘”How many poor eyes canst thou see that would,
Look upon those wretched eyes that were never made,
Even as death stares in sorrow at his sorrow’s wound,
For their fair eyes should like a dying sun,
Thine own will may still hold it, though death be
His sovereign executor of his will.
Love made me lose all sense, yet to myself I lose,
To live by my lust, so love may live
From me alone with others to the west,
With others by their own will to kill.
‘Why’ so? When I was young I did delight thee,
That thou shouldst be so proud of me,
Since it is thy will, that I be a proud slave.
That thou art so proud to be so proud of my face.
‘”O false excuse, my dear friend!
My tears did show thy cheek, my tears did show thy chin,
As though they were the drops from a rose which doth lie,
My love-killing breath did bring thee out of thy breath,
Even as the rose that doth drop from a rose doth lie,
Yet thou thy self dost seem thyself doth love,
And my dear friend, thou know’st mine, to be thy friend’s flame.
“When thou art old, when all things are set aside,
O most wondrous creation, how shall I praise thee,
Thy living eye, when it sees thee not still
Holds in thy face the dreadful sight of youth,
Or how thou, as the world about thee,
Makes me wonder where thou wast born and dies.
But, O most wretched thing, in thy youth didst thou turn,
When thou art old, and no longer liv’st then,
Who from me, thou art descended again
To earth, to heaven, and thence to hell.
‘In thy youth was a king in a tent,
With fair-fac’d figure he gave the king’s face;
His fair hair stood in fair place, and in short’d band,
That when his lordship should command it,
The fair queen, whose sovereign sweet did command
The hot oath to the king, would answer,
How many false gods thy highness was doth hold
Of such modest gods and modest kings!
And if thou shouldst destroy thy sweet love,
Then shalt thou be free from my love,
For never have I felt my worth nor my name,
Nor loved one that was not your own.
“Iniquity with lust, lust with treason,
Creed to kill in the least by force of love.
Thus is it, that the Greeks call it ‘the sun’s head,’
But ‘the sun’ is not, but the goddess Venus.
Love is a sun, Venus is a moon.
In thy blood shalt thou pine; in thine, thou art free;
And thy body thou mayst pine, in thine I will pine,
And thou thy body shalt pine with me, and thine,
Thine for my sake is in love with all the rest.
For mine is love’s pride, thy pride’s pride
And all these two belong to one love.
And thou, from thence, mayst from thence remain,
In that wherein thou art my slave,
Whose absence, the shame and unhallow’d night,
Cannot make the thing he seeks more,
For that which thou dost crave remains so,
That no longer in my possession
Will the thing that I crave remain,
For I in thee remain my slave and slave’s love.
And so thou art my slave, as the sun is my love,
And thou mine, as thine, is my love and mine own.
‘For the sun,’ quoth she, ‘is the same as snow,
And in it both thou dost fall;
When in thee thou dost fall the snow takes place;
And in the snow doth his snow fall,
And in my self thou in thy self dost fall.
‘Thou wilt be mine, and mine thou in thy self dost fall.
This time, as the sun is up against the west,
Till the west with clouds of their fresh droop
Pawn upon the cloud


======== CHECKPOINT 037 OUTPUT # 001 ========

vs in that of the blessed,
That whereof love, or love’s lasting effect,
May come to be a blot on the face,
That by this mightst thou be cured of all suspicion!
‘That my love, that was my self,
To this false jewel of mine, hath so many a crown,
And as oft as my love doth stain thy face,
so mine own false jewel doth hide thee.
His love doth lend a heavy sigh to all his woes,
And all his grief confounds with tears his eyes,
Which, like misty mists, seem to leap, as if in some remote wonder;
His love doth lend the tide of fortune a hush,
And thus it comes, that by him his woes are discharged.
And this seeming sighs he makes;
And this he makes by so expressing his mind,
That all my words of praise may bear,
That my praise, and praise of him shall cover,
With words his words shall cover with their tears.
‘The world is full of mischances,
And all mine faults do tend to my friends’ and foes.’
For those who love, let them find fault with me.
“My beloved daughter, do not make me beguile;
I assure her of your love by my love’s side,
And if she do prove her true love, thou dost beguile my love;
Mine eye is full with wonder, and my heart with sorrow;
As for you who have seen the lily pale and sweet,
And all the other plants in thy bosom bearing fruit,
Have not I seen thee in thy looks,
And I have never seen the fair roses but in thy parts,
And yet thou shouldst seem to blush at thy fair self,
And blush at my beauty in other parts.
“Thou art no like of them I have never seen,
Whereon this sad face hath made me sick,
And every thing sorrow hath done to mine eye,
Which it saw, and did take to make new grief,
Making fresh sorrows for thee again.
‘”Therefore I say to you that every tongue that hearth
Of thy sweet words hath done a maund for me,
And yet thou canst not know my true love,
I have but one love, and thou none,
That ever my heart hath seen,
O what a world hath thy sweet voice made
How long I with thee I cannot be forgotten,
And then thou art as fair as crystal still,
Nor mayst thou the world’s fair diamond be broken.
The world is dead, and thy sweet love lives in my breast,
Whilst my dear heart’s love lives in thee.
If thy heart live, why the world is gone,
And all my sweet love in thee doth live.
But to this the world will excuse my false boast,
Whereas to the world my true heart’s love doth live,
I have one love to live by, and no more;
So far from my love’s loss, from my love’s gain,
I can do none of these things;
And yet the world can but see my self, my self,
And then the world’s self can no longer see me,
For then no one can hold this false witness.
O if then your father be so kind, how wilt thou strive
To find the cure of all my ill?
That was my self-love to seek;
O no, no, dear, what hope dost thou have,
Love-killing desires cannot survive
In that which the sick toil in spite of rest.
If love live, how much farther is thy bed
Than my verse in verse can tell
Of thy beauty and of thy state.
If love die, how much farther is my bed
Than my verse can tell of thy youth,
And of your beauty and of thy state.
‘Thus did she in her haste take,
The carriage that did her honour ride;
Her thoughts did their task, and did leave them
With thoughts of their own accord, and did not depart,
And thence did they leave.
‘And this is to make the world a better place,
Which is to have more of my body’s beauty,
And of my worth more worth.
‘O, that thought must it pass,
That the world may in one night find out
What kind of a woman I was,
And what kind of a wife I had,
And how much I owed them;
And whereof that thought did in some part
Ask whether I was a good wife or a bad wife,
Or whether I was husband or wife,
To find out whether you should give me your bed,
Or whether you should part with my rest.
“That


======== CHECKPOINT 037 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Feet of his face, and the lips thereof, but no more;
In his cheeks did he draw with his lips’ soft lips,
And in the lips of his cheek did he draw a little,
Or two or three kisses in one;
Which is but a little too brief:
In his inward eye let us behold
The form of this dreadful beast,
In his outward face did we behold
The terror of this dire-sighted devil,
And in his inward head all the world’s woes were pluck’d.
‘Then have I seen her face which her eyes bore,
And have pity’s fair sun espied her eye,
Which on her forehead hath his visage spent,
And yet no shade the more to blot her out:
And yet beauty’s fair sun, whose fair moon she doth behold,
Which doth every thing in her eye look,
May well enchant the eye, and the mind,
Which hath the same love to all, so mayst thou behold.
But behold this, that in thee doth art done
The love of thy sweet self I do make the list,
And now the list being made, thou wilt never lose,
For I have love in you, and you in me.
The sun, in shining white, shall cover thee with night,
And make thee pale in the morning till noon rise.
And then the night shall darken his picture,
And night his picture shall shine bright bright,
Whilst my sweet self hath in my soul mine own place,
For thy self I am thy self’s slave,
And thine own self thy self’s own self’s debtor.
‘O if thou be the one, that thou art this,
Thou mine own image, and mine own self’s slave,
And the other thine own thy self’s debtor,
By my soul alone in thine own self thy own shame
Doth attend my self with my self-same eyes,
And mine own self with mine own self’s self in thee.
“Look,” quoth she, “this young-bedecked beast
Who like a cherubin graz’d in the bush,
Shone by the keen-tongued hawk, and by the fawn-eater;
That they both with their sharp fangs do the wounding:
Look, the dove, the boar, the fox,
That all their numbers now are gone, and none left:
Then is it lawful that we should do,
As some who, though hunted, slay others in their rage.
Thus Tarquin chides: “I did not kill; let me kill you all.”
A thousand woes to my face do list.
And on one gentle morning
A weary, and weary nurse in a state of rest,
She doth lie in her seat, and cries: “Tis not so.”
To make a pause, the weary one doth stand,
And sits upon the grass, thinking the wind heft’d,
Whereat a pale apparition proceeds;
And with a loud voice they join,
And the fair maid, seeming to take him in,
Whose eyes are pale and dim in hue,
But with a gentle touch doth she lend him,
His sweet lips fill his lips, and in his gums fill;
They that would love him with their lips would kiss him in,
And kiss him with every hand that did love him fast.
Then is she quite out of breath, and no heart to cry;
Her lips, like pearl encased in her lap,
Tear up her tears, which she often leaves behind,
And often their tears exceed the water’s level.
And now this, lo, the ocean is full with gouts,
And as they run, like a band of sickly pirates,
They murmur in their ears, and cry in their blood,
And often their voices, like coral coral,
Like sapphires to the heaven-hued shore, do sing,
Like sweet nuns to the blessed salve that makes them stay,
And sing a hymn in praise of thee,
Like a dew of roses, the white of them:
‘So be it: thou must not be deceived.’
She looks upon him, and concludes by a kiss;
She says, ‘And if thou dost, I do vow to stay,
To do thee good, and to do thee shame;
To do thee true, and to do me false:
And do I not in that I am mad,
That my sins are your honour’s memorial,
That you are the first true and worthy of my name,
That you all to your love made fair
By all who in your name have done this good.’
‘And lo, I’ll do thee every favour,’ qu


======== CHECKPOINT 037 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Butterfly, with a kind of disdain, with her cheeks redoubled, and her eyes fair, with her hair tied up.
‘Had I not been born, would not I never have had thy love,
As thou art, to me thy son, thy dear, thy only love.
And now, lo! behold this strange-green serpent,
In her hair and forth again her wits swelled,
So much more than thou wouldst have if I had been thy child.
“Let me say,” she says, “my mother was right,
So am I, and thou are I;
That’s all: no more, dear.”
I sigh, but he sighs more,
And then she begins again: “Now, you see, my mother’s name is
‘Tinny; I have no love to lose,
And thou canst not bewitch me of thy lust,
That I have no love to lose in thee.
‘I hate to think of thy self as I have hated;
Yet being mad, I shall not make thee angry:
For I shall be mad, and thou shalt not be mad.
Yet bewailed as thou are as thy woe is so wide,
Thy self, and thy self I will not love.
No, thou art not such a fool, for love of thine own is thine,
And hate to hate is not love’s acceptance,
When thy self be converted, to love is thine acceptance.
‘And thus she speaks in her sweetest, most sweet voice;
‘It shall be lawful to hunt with the wolf,
Or else hunt by the boar,
Or else by the owl,
And hunt by the hawks, or birds by night.
Thy beauty hath beauty’s edge, and all these are mine;
‘My self, that is true to thee,
Thou art my shadow, and mine is thy shadow:
My self to thee is thy self-love,
And all to thee as thine to thy self.
And if my self in thee were slain,
Thy self to thy self, thyself thyself thyself thyself myself myself thyself myself myself myself,
But thou art none of mine, and mine is thine.
Look this, that fair white in the window that holds all this,
Tells me a certain ill-advised night,
That she should leave this sad tale to herself:
She will be gone, and leave the fair queen alone,
And thus do I her own shame;
For shame shall never forget my name,
And my self shall die and be remembered,
For shame will never remember my face,
For shame’s own self and all my beauty’s is lost.
Thou art my shadow, my self my self, and all my beauty’s lost,
And all beauty’s lost, thou art dead.
The present time doth not stop Time, nor stop his eyes;
He that art dead, dies in this present world:
And to this end Time doth say ‘Now my dear friend,
It is Time’s pleasure to talk, and to make me go;
The present time doth not stop Time’s pleasure to make me stay,
And to this end Time doth tell me ‘Now my dear friend,
It is Time’s pleasure to be sad, and to be sad
‘Tis Time that makes the world mad;
In Time’s madcap state mad men come to see
The boar that stole my father’s cloak, and now lives alone:
In Time’s madcap state there comes a butcher
That he doth rob the sick, and beggars their income;
Thou wast Sin when thou wast Sin’s lamb, and now thou wast thy lamb.’
‘But as Time hath churl’d this thought out,
The pale-fac’d old man with the pale-fac’d woman
The sickly boy, the old woman and child in grief,
Then thou art Time’s fair-shining jewel,
and thou shalt inherit Time’s fair title.
So then did thy lovely cheek my heart make,
And that fair heart that nursed thee so,
Since I have begot thee now, I’ll kiss thee more.
For my love hath been fair in thought,
Fair in thought’s form is fairer than thee;
Fair in thought’s form is fairer than thee.
That is why thou wast the fair, and thou the fair,
When I was no greater than thee, nor yet such a king,
Thou were but thy fair, and now I no more,
Then have I no more, then all my grace is gone,
And all my beauty’s waste gone,
And all my beauty’s sake gone,
And all my beauty’s sake


======== CHECKPOINT 037 OUTPUT # 004 ========

Grab for some help,
Till she hears a thump, and runs to the door,
Till her friend doth cry out, “Who’s there?”
For the door’s latch he stops her and holds her still.
“Hallowed be thy birth,
And I am thee unto eternity’s end.”
And by this she agrees, and sits still.
“Let the maid take care of thee,
And in thy bed she will remove thy garment,
And thou shalt be thy good queen,
And not my maid, nor thy love’s love’s slave.”
“O then thou wilt, my love, and I love thee not,
If thou wilt, it will not be my love that lends me these;
And to prove it, I must undertake some action,
To prove it not by force, but by oath;
When, by oath, I do prove the truth.
When oaths are made against oaths,
The more I swear by oaths than by faith,
The more I swear by oaths than by love,
And the more I swear by oaths than by trust.
This did her tutor bring her to,
And he to her side sat her, and kiss’d her;
She, with kissing, did win their favour;
They both did throng one another, and they gave thanks.
‘Gainst she thyself the strength to speak,
For that which she herself thinks,
Her self self she herself doth think wrong,
So to herself all ill, to herself all praise,
Who, though they have done good in her sight,
still for him that was their greatest evil:
He was their minister, their minister their minister.
Their music, their song and their song’s effect
For hours, hours, hours, hours, hours of this,
Sometime he lays in bed, listening intently;
Sometimes he sleeps, waking up in his head,
And all his hard labour doth distract him from his rest.
‘Why wilt thou make my day worth my rest,
And leave all my thoughts at home in the field,
Where nothing but your love’s beauty doth dwell?
Why weep when your love’s tears have done?
Why fret when my dear Adonis’ eyes have daff’d
Or when my sweet love’s tears have done?
Or when my sweet Adonis’ eyes have told my eyes,
How sweet she appears to me now, now and ever.
O why weep when I have thought to-day,
O how sad that time can seem,
And never be remembered once again!
‘But do not weep aloud, as I am wont to do,
For if I do, my eyes will be blind,
As soon as my face can no longer read what I say.
‘And where have these spies been gone to forage?
And yet no spies found them in such hard fear,
As in that dark dark cave where their eyes lay.
My love hath not gone to hunt, but only to take
The bait of his prey, to catch it with his tongue.
My love hath not gone to hunt, but only to take
The bait of his prey, to catch it with his tongue.
For in that dark cave where his eyes lay,
My love hath not gone to hunt, but only to take
The bait of his prey, to catch it with his tongue.
For in that dark cave where his eyes lie,
My love hath not gone to hunt, but only to take
The bait of his prey, to catch it with his tongue.
For in that dark cave where his eyes lie,
My love hath not gone to hunt, but only to take
The bait of his prey, to catch it with his tongue.
O be my witness, how many a poor child doth
By thy help doth that poor child doth seem
As the moon doth in the night arise;
And when, beholding this great star,
Who on it hath a fiery flash,
And that bright sun on it hath a flaming flash,
And that bright sun on it hath a flaming flash.
Yet do not blame my love for her neglect
When I am all alone and idle.
She sighs for me, and for her, and she sighs still for me.
‘Father,’ she cries, ‘this day I see thee with that dreadful eye,
That hath all thy power, all thy honour, all thy name,
And all your wealth that I owe you.
‘The earth’s fair flower shall stand,
The sea’s bright jewel shall die,
And in the ocean a gentle ocean hath flow,
To be sure, there is no loss in thee:
But as that which is dear to me,
My love hath lost all, and thou shall


======== CHECKPOINT 037 OUTPUT # 005 ========

ishable the grace of death,
Which he so graciously bears;
When thou wilt find it, I swear I’ll leave thee.
But if thou be thyself forsaken,
And there rest, thou shalt find me,
And yet thou wilt have me, despite of my sins.
“So then he takes her by the hand,
And leads her away in a dully pale;
He strikes her on the head with a heavy quiver;
she cries; “Grief! how sorrow befits murder!
How love iniquity so unjustly disgraces!
So long as I dwell here, I’ll never rest;
Unless my absence be the death of this world,
Which may thence be my life’s end.
For when the clock is up, his name shall be sung.
‘But if I am forced to speak, be quiet!
Unless I shall be forced to be sad,
My fame shall die with sad music and sad looks;
The world will see my sad groans and wails;
And my fame’s sad tunes the world will know.
So shall I be confined in a closet,
And there the sick world (eating away his sleep)
Will read the sad news of death, but never see it.
“Thus shall my story tell, and my tears, and my woes be told;
As my self this sad thing, so shall my self be loved.
‘”Why should my love be so short a story
As for my love and your poor heart to love,
When they themselves are full of errors,
And never more pure than their content is supposed,
When all those other fair things in you were base,
When all that is in you as base is said,
And yet you, pure as your self are in me,
Have been made from the first base of all things,
And you from the second base of all things,
Which were all bases of you but pure perfection,
To be you all things were but one, and nothing was;
For that was to you that gave the rose,
To you that give it to us all,
To you that change every thing,
And then the world, being your self, will have my love,
And all your faults, your imperfections, will be yours.”
The wise would not suspect this, nor the fool that sees
Thy eye, or thy heart’s ear to hear thee speak:
The wise would suspect it, but the fool in it thinks:
“Thou know’st that thine eyes are blind,
That they never saw thee nor heard thy groans;
Even so thou know’st that I am one,
And as one’s eye sees a star, so mine eye hath a name,
Thou know’st that I am one, and as one’s eye hears a moon,
All alike in my grove the same thing see.
And as one being in love hath many a part,
One of whom all others in one,
All one in one, both like one sweet and wise.
This is to him a lesson in love,
And for that, he doth invent a tongue.
‘But if thou wilt use my name, what use can I make
Of thine own name? that name may bestow thy self
Which in thee so aptly doth thy name live.
And how much more shall I praise thee now,
Thou art well know’d to write a good book.
‘”What shall I say, O boy, and what shall I say
When I hear thee tell my tale in my heart,
And not in your tongue, but in your heart’s content,
With me as in love is wont to chase?
If thou art well understood, then tell the tale in my heart,
And then in my heart in love be accounted.
‘”For whiles I were young,
My self was thy enemy,
When in thee I was dear,
I owed thee what I owed thee is owed;
And to steal what thou stole in my deed,
Thy self bequeathed that to my self shall live.
So love may be a sad-tun’d music to the ears,
Who, like an old woman, feel the sad and weary wind,
Which in their faces fill’d with trembling joy:
Who, like a sad-tun’d song, cry out, “O my dear, my dear,”
And whither their plaintions fall, whose echoes
Whose cries their hearts imitate: for pity’s sake
When love is dead, thou art new-fangled grief,
For I am old, and yet thou new-fangled beauty,
Who hath my soul in the fire of thy grief.
“Poor girl! look what that wretched thing in thee
P


======== CHECKPOINT 038 OUTPUT # 001 ========

fox in the bud,
And that to you in your pure form doth live,
To me that art pure, I beg leave;
I, as the bud that doth grow within me stand,
If my spirit should rob it of fruit,
It would not be dead, but would have grown
Like a flower, but with a bud in it.
When he sees me, he tells me,
‘The thing it is I sought: that is, to make you
A bud that can take away all that remains,
For I would use you to make my life better.’
This love, she thinks, she will kiss,
And kiss again, if I will with kisses yield.
‘”To-night, gentle mistress,” quoth she, “this letter from me,
This promise, this promise, this promise,
The one from my heart wherein thou art to be buried,
Thy sweet love, that thou mightst live, to-morrow liv’d:
O, what kind of world canst thou deprive,
From thence he must leave me, and all shall have rest.
So now for the sake of love, I send this
Sometime to my chamber wherein I sit and
Have a long chat, as they themselves did rehearse,
Hath had this past year’s grievance begun;
The plague that once had her forthwith confined
And thence was no longer welcome to her sight.
But now the plague began anew,
In a state of dread that did not stop thence.
Now this sickly dread she herself inches forwards,
But when she is out again she leaps at the swift pace,
As if from some remote channel she might strike;
But the swiftest she leaps, the quicker she doth speed.
Then doth she draw, as if from some unseen hand
Her bow, or to put in her place some trim:
What shall I say to her, but then I say,
What shall I say shall be my verse?
For oft as I see she in the dim lights,
She sings, and then she turns her head to look.
When I saw she in the dim light,
She drew and drew, and yet no breath could speak;
Her lips were cold and soft, and her eyes black,
And from the dim light she began to rave,
Like a cloud that obscures the sun;
That cloud thus smother’d, by melting with her hot breath.
For in the fire which she had begun to cool,
She set to work, and then she would tear her eyes from light.
He would fly, and his spleen would fly again,
And all the world would sing hymns to him.
‘Thou lov’st, and thou hast harmed,’ quoth he;
‘Thou lov’st,’ quoth she; ‘it is thine own fault,
It was thine own fault that didst harm thee;
Myself, thy fault, thy fault, thy fault’s fault.
For what are thieves that do not steal thy beauty
From my image?
Myself? why, thou art that thief’s-giver,
And beauty that thou art that beauty’s debtor?
If thou art that, then why am I that thou art so fair,
For why dost thou steal my fair beauty?
“For if thou shalt beget aught of me,
Then in mine am I subject to all abuse;
Then would I have died, and thou wast one of my friends.
So is her story true, unless we live,
We will live a sad and barren age;
We will live a wretched life and die a glorious death.
This said, he takes another breath, and throws it
At the eye of a maid, and then proceeds
To kiss the eye, and kiss the heart,
And then on to another, and again on to another.
‘But, poor fool! thou art such a thing
Thy beauty didst betray, and by her death fled;
And in her bosom wast nursed that murd’rous blood
Which on the knife to her breast she lay fast,
And now her heart hath slain this thief,
And now her blood hath slain a man,
And now her heart hath slain two thieves;
Let them be slain, and their deaths be two worlds.’
That night she doth bid a sleeping man lay,
Upon a pine-shaded grove, as if it should rain,
Laund’d with blood, in the sweat of his brow,
And in his vapour’d lungs all this force
He bide his time; and his body began shake;
And, lo, this helpless thing being struck with lightning,
With a groan, and a thundering cry,
The cloudless night the Greeks view’d


======== CHECKPOINT 038 OUTPUT # 002 ========

eki are dead, thy love, which thou lov’st so well.
Thy dear mother’s name, my dear father, my dear mother,
Aye, but for love, thou art dead, and I live only to be with thee.
“Father,” she says, “how canst thou say I am of this use?
Thy loving eye, which thou on so strongly doth charge,
Came hither for thy husband’s sake to view;
And now it is your duty to give the boy
A groom’s rein, and make him groom for his owner.
“I’ll tell you sometime when I have the boy,
Thy love may be gone, my love will be revenged on thee.
Thy loving eyes, and their beams shall never be bright;
I will burn him that made the fire,
And make him his slave to every eye;
No man but thou art my love, if thou ever live.
This she says, when he hath begun to bathe,
Her beauty doth quake and shake,
like the earthquake-like force of a sudden.
‘”This sad device, to put an end to this hopeless strife,
From my mistress’ bed quoth she, “The plague is soon upon us,
And in that time I cannot give,
I do vow to thee that I will keep thee in my love.
And yet she lives, and yet thou art my love.”
But for her love she herself commits
To be confined in a prison in a brook,
Who in return for his ransom bids her stay
The cure which her true love seeks and commits.
‘”So shalt thou excuse the infirmity of my heart,
Thine own will, my self’s will, thy will’s will,
And shalt with thee be cured; that is, I will say to thee;
And sometime to th’ effect will cite,
Or sometime to cite, the lines we do hear.
And once, long since, he said ’tis thy will.’
Thy will, thy self’s will and mine,
And in return shall we both be cured.”
O Time, when doth Time entertain thy part?
O Time, how canst thou dote on the grave of youth,
When youth doth grow old, or doth old die?
O Time, that thou art, and that thou art done,
The grave of all age was Priam’s,
And this time it is mine that doth live,
For I have lived all thy self’s time, and none thy self,
And this life I thee live by thee,
In thy will, in mine own will, and in thy will’s will:
But this thou shalt not live, for I have died for thy will,
And all these for thy self’s sake have died for thy will.
‘And why shall I not tell the tale of thine,
When I have lived to make you my friend?
But I will tell thee the time when thou thy self,
When I love, and not when thou shalt see me:
Then ’tis none of my will, not of thine,
To love thee, but of thy will, to hate thee.
And so he walks on like a weary old man,
Where his weary legs he bounds, in what haste
Th’ unbounded course they follow,
And oft their woes their gazes extend.
‘Lo, my son, behold this steep chasm,
That the tide of this eternal day lies:
No wind but wind cannot bring this place to quiet.
“But the boar which lives by his owner’s power
Comes upon his back, and in it lies
A hairy beast, that can do no good;
But that which lives by the self-same owner,
And that is dear to my heart, my flesh,
For that I owe you all this me, and to thee,
You shall live, and thou shalt live, my love.
If thou do this, my love shall live on thee alone.
But if thou live, the love I owed thee will live on thee alone;
And to die, I’ll live on thee with another lover,
And this time my love shall live on you alone.
If thou be dead, then mayst thou wert live again.
Look to the grave where she lay,
And to her cheek the roses that now cover it,
With silver lines that date her life.
‘I love you,’ quoth she, ‘but I am guilty of stealing from thee.
To pay my debt, and then I’ll die,
As quickly as I could with nothing more.
‘What did I steal, then? I’ll never speak again;
If thou wilt, then let me live where thou wilt best live,


======== CHECKPOINT 038 OUTPUT # 003 ========

athy of his life, that hath not told of death:
But by thy self I might be thy friend,
For if thou mightst come to know me, then this life must die,
And yet thou art not my friend.
“Then with mine eye thee doth gaze,
And where is he that spies this eye hath seen,
That his eye doth gaze upon the shadow doth look,
Where is he that spies this eye doth look,
Where is he that spies this eye doth look,
Where is he that spies this eye doth look,
And where is he that spies this eye doth look,
What shall he say, and shall he answer say?
‘”My love shall be new born, and then old age be:
Then can thy love be new born or old age be:
O where is my love, my love’s child,
Or when my love grows old, my love dies,
O where my love grew up and left me,
My love died, and thou art my friend.
But thou art my friend, and that friend was thy self,
And in that, that self thine own praise,
As thou art thyself thy self, in me thou grow,
And that self thy self was thine self,
My self that thy self so praise should have,
Where mine self thou wast thine, in me thou wast thyself,
That thou, myself that I thyself thyself dost divide,
So doth my self be thy self my self grow,
Whilst I myself am thy self thy self dost divide,
Whilst I myself am thyself thy self dost divide,
Whilst I myself am thyself thyself dost divide,
Whilst I myself am thyself thyself dost divide,
Whilst I myself am thyself thyself dost divide,
Whilst I myself am thyself thyself dost divide:
Whilst I myself am thyself thyself dost divide,
Whilst I myself am thyself thyself dost divide,
Whilst I myself am thyself thyself dost divide,
Whilst I myself am thyself thyself dost divide,
Whilst I myself am thyself thyself dost divide:
Whilst I myself am thyself thyself dost divide:
For thou art thyself thyself, and me thou art thyself thyself,
And in me thou art thyself, and me thou art thyself.
“This time thou shalt not tell, or prophesy,
This time thou shalt not be patient nor kind;
This time thou shalt not swear an oath,
This time thou shalt not bear false witness
this foul slander upon the heart
Thy name, thy pride, thy pride’s shame.
These offences shall I list,
And each one shall bear an ugly title:
The one that makes the grave shrinks;
The other to the honouring rich breeds:
The one that makes the honouring poor dies:
These two do not interchange, but die together,
As one dying in the other’s honour:
The one dead is born again, the other dies.
And from the womb where the foetus lies
Shall he be brought unto a furnace where he shall sweat
His face, or his lips, or his eyes,
Or his joints, his veins, his eyes, his lungs,
His liver, his lungs, his breast, his veins, his joints;
That to the lungs in him dwells the heat,
So he will not breathe in my sweet lungs;
Yet the greater part hath some grievance in his mind,
That he thinks it ill to breathe therein;
In his grief he interprets words but cannot hear,
Which with sighs, and tears do convert,
Like vapours which the air melts in water.
O most dreadful night! what a fright, wherefore dost thou fall!
Or what a worse disgrace, wherefore dost thou dwell?
But ’tis night, and thou in it doth dread!
‘Tis night that breathes the life in her eye;
O foul, foul night! ‘Tis night with the dark and cold,
And to the light shines a little moon.
“So is this lovely day, that makes my cheeks burn.
And now I behold that my cheeks’ hue
May be so bright, that when thy light shines on them,
They wear their beauty with so much weariness.
To hear her lamentation, he strikes her on the shoulder;
His lips are tied, but no words can speak;
His handkerchief is tied, but no tongue can hold it,
His handkerchief clip’d, yet no breath can utter:
So when I think this blessed rhyme,
A kiss hath


======== CHECKPOINT 038 OUTPUT # 004 ========

glare the sun with his fair shine,
And lo, beholding a youthful face,
He runs on, and I with him,
To make our cabin some honour.
My soul, with thee, mine honour is no more:
So now the shame of my life hath my self been burned;
Now the honour of mine honour hath I lost,
No, I have lost all, and thou thy honour is none.’
But still he calls her by name,
That she may sometime look upon the thing she dotes,
And know that the deed was done;
And in her grief she speaks, ‘O, this is the fair end of all;
Then do not construe what thou wilt write,
That all shall know it to be true;
And, for that, that you may truly know it,
Then may I say with all my heart,
Love was not the best and best excuse:
For with my love is found fault so faulting;
That in this fault is found the cure,
And by this cure comes to my guilty end.
“This was thy excuse,” quoth she, “from thence I began:
To my absence was thy excuse removed:
For from the sweet air thou didst breathe,
The flower thou didst consume grew,
And where was my breath when thou wast breath’d?
Then why should I breathe in thee?‘”Why shouldst thou breathe in thine own mouth?”
O therefore, wherefore hast thou no self-trust,
And no self-love to steal thy breath?
To-day this verse I do amend,
And amend to-morrow I make better,
If thou wilt prove a better man.”
“When, therefore, I first saw thy face,
Or read thy lips, or even touched their lips,
Sometime my heart, as it was filled,
Grew dumb, and writ on in my face
Like to a dying churl that breathes no breath;
Then my heart began, and died, and then my face,
Sometime my heart, as it was filled,
Grew dumb, and writ on in my face
Sometime my heart, as it was filled,
Sometime my heart, as it was filled,
Sometime my heart, as it was filled,
Sometime my heart, as it was filled,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Sometime my heart, as it was filled,
Sometime my heart, as it was filled,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Sometime my heart, as it was filled,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died, and then my face,
Grew dumb, and died,


======== CHECKPOINT 038 OUTPUT # 005 ========

buffer that made me forget
The hours I had spent together
Bridging my thoughts that my own heart had kept
To rehearse your verse in memory.
And here the painter begins to stroke his pale cheeks,
And now all beauty, all her majesty doth show,
The golden crest and the scarlet crest,
And to the stars, that do them good,
Myself to my self, my self to thee,
I in thee, in thee, in thee,
Thy image, thy image, my self to thee.
O then for your love I will confess this favour,
My heart’s delight to hear thee moan,
And in my soul’s sweetest groans rehearse:
That for thy good in me thy good may be,
Mine in thee as well may be thy love.
O let me see what my love’s effects in me,
My heart’s sweetest groans rehearse:
My heart’s sweetest groans rehearse, thy good will rehearse.
Now wake I to the weary eye that stares
Where thou art distracted by the weariness of night,
Or in the burning eye that sees the burning of life.
Then how can I say, Time’s eye hath made me a god,
To give thee a semblance of a mind,
And no earthly form but thy might,
Sings thee, ‘Lord, thou art my love.’
Here she sits, panting, as if she were dead,
And hears Collatine in her bedchamber weep.
When this sad show concludes, she says,
That in her body Tarquin’s visage lies:
And therefore is my Lucrece dead,
For to him my eyes in the Lucrece’s light
Hath haunted thy grief’s time, and thy light’s time.’
My love is dead and thou my light’s youth
Shall, like a dying man, leap from thee,
To leave thee for the time, or else stay thy way,
To make thee my own grave, and then thy heir,
My self, my soul, and thy part of thee.
And yet the thought of him I did believe,
Would not expel me from thee, although thou leave me here.
This she tells, that for his part he hath been kind,
So hath she confided her sorrows, his joys,
And from them her sorrows have flowed her sweet spring;
She that love’s sweetest fountain hath her fresh water,
As the spring that feeds the world’s summer doth grow,
To be warmed only by her constant feed,
And all those springs that she feeds to keep her rain,
And all those springs that make summer his delight,
Which all this toil and time to time doth fight,
This she surmise’d to the point that his tongue quack’d,
And now he begins to answer her;
‘It is an old story,’ quoth he, ‘old Roman,
That, as it is carved out in Greece,
It shall not be denied, but that my name is writ
Thy true name, whose due may be debated,
That in my blood thy worth is crowned;
Thy virtue, thy worth thy strength doth seem,
And all thy merit doth seem thine; and by this, my love doth grow;
To me, thy worth, thy true worth doth seem
Till I do approve thy sin, thy crime shall seem.
‘This verse is but an instrument,
But is of the heart, and is no other instrument
Than a drum, which will sound but a tune,
And no tune of sound will register it,
Whose tuning is but to entertain the ear,
To entertain the brain, to make him smile,
To make him grin and make him cry,
Till all those sounds in him register with his mouth;
And all those soundings in him register with his ear;
O then I think, there’s one part of me
That thou must not see, nor hear, nor touch,
But in thee, and in me, thy beauty grows.
His eyes, like fair cherubins, he likeeth,
Then his lips are full of praise,
And his brows are full of sighs,
And deep groans fill his nostrils;
They are like pearls in the hot summer’s hand:
And fresh crystals are applied to his cheeks:
Their colour hath his grace, and he never doth blush;
His face is but white as snow,
His lips, like crystal hearts, he looks like;
The more, the more the red his cheeks become;
And when he hath bathed his lips and his lips’ cheeks,
His face hath done his utmost harm,
And every drop his breath hath brought


======== CHECKPOINT 039 OUTPUT # 001 ========

cancers are too small, too rare.”
To see his heart with his cheek he doth say;
Yet in his heart he can see no cause of grief;
And yet, for that reason, this grief,
His heart hath no cause of grief;
He that is bereaved, that hath no cause of grief:
O pardon me, my ill-spring did lend
To him the flower of the fair,
And lent it that sweet, pure and kindly odour,
Like roses, but with flowers of purest,
Which on the bark are affixed,
And in his palm on a bud doth stand,
A kiss of pure love; and then the wound is closed,
As it would be impregnable with blood,
Even there bloodless heaven’s breath might stain it.
For what blood could he shed, no stone could stain
Of his bloodless body but his bare bosom’s.
That thy bare bosom’s breath may breathe forth some,
Whose foul stain shall not be so great a blot,
As thou blot’st those wrinkles that thy body doth hide?
Or when thou hast blown these up,
The hairs which on thy forehead do cover
Are like twigs in the ground.
‘His nose with his tongue, to my part,
Sway’d the wind that blows it downward,
And, like a band, did manage to break the wind,
Which seemed to catch him by the neck and hang him from;
“Gainst my spirit, which hath power to control me,
Is to kiss the base of a tree,
Like unto a bough, whose bark would scratch if it were pricked;
Or to my sweet Venus’ hair, whose base leaves would scratch
If the sap be spread on it self:
O, the sap will stain thee with rain,
For thou art so beloved of many.
‘But that I may prove that thy sweet self art
A living flower, a living image,
And that thou shouldst in this still strive
To imitate the life that I left behind
Of this dead body with thee, dost thou then seek
To stain my life with more sweet things?
What beauty in thee that art so rotten,
And then thou livest as a dead deer,
When all nature is dead, and the living dead reigns.
‘”And now the morn the dove, for sorrow it will seem,
Hearing my woes, the mourning tears will follow,
Hearing my woes, the tears will stay:
Then shall my lamentations be like a dove:
Then shall my weeping tears be like a lion,
And all the world shall watch on me with a watchful eye.”
“Wretched being,” quoth he, “how often have I seen
How rare a thing is as grief to thee.
O, why couldst thou not say it was mine,
For what couldst thou say was mine in thee?
Or how couldst thou deny me that I am such a thing?
If you did, then my verse would prove so,
With a happy ending I will tell you soon.
My sweet friend, my love, my love’s heart and all
To the world is all that I care, I could say so.
What are you, that dost thou think to complain
That thou wast not so kind to my sweet wife,
That she was not with thee when she was slain?
What sorrow in thy deeds do I reckon,
But sorrow in thy trespass, or at thy trespass’s end?
In either’s deed thy heart’s desire finds
All manner of excuses, for one to make,
And each argument one with another,
Who is left wanting despite his argument’s length.
‘Now the wind is hot, and my torch is out,
That hath the wind blown in his direction,
To blow at me from afar, and not at me.
‘This, my dear friend, is a strange beast:
This beast, too cunning for fair, too quick for rash,
Doth follow a rider, like him in time,
Who obeys to stop the horse;
The rider obeys, and the rider obeys,
The rider obeys, and the rider obeys,
The rider obeys, and the rider obeys;
But when the other obeys, the rider obeys,
For he himself is mute and unprovident.
‘For here he meets a tall, lean-back being
Whose neck the lion would not stoop to;
He stops to bow, and that untied beast kneels;
Like a brave, strong, and armed pilot
He chides the wind, but his strong hand is unswerv’d.
‘And this voice that mine ear cannot hear,
What a fearful thing that


======== CHECKPOINT 039 OUTPUT # 002 ========

movie is to be obdurate, and that is why we say of things of that quality is the chief: for by him, like a proud lion, stands triumph; for thou dost hold the true eye to the thing that dost deceive: so, from the fair, in him the false eye hath no part, that his fair parts boast: so is it in him, that his fair parts complain:
So is this verse true, that in the bosom of Lucrece’ cheek lies Lucrece’ eye,
And where the eye of true Lucrece lies,
True truth must the love to leave her;
The love to leave her, that did kill her.
As for his part, it shall never be called love,
But as a general lie, that is, or should be,
Which to deceive, is the most vile and most abhorred crime.
‘Thus shall my lips receiv thy will,
And, lo, thy will will shall thence be corrupted with this decree,
And by that will th’ worst be the least affected;
My will is dead, thy will is alive;
And I shalt be buried in thy grave for ever.’
“And being told this, he stops his horse,
To put his hand upon the hound’s neck,
And hold it in place till he hear some more;
Then stop and think some more, and then straight stand,
To let the horse think; then straight stand,
So the hound takes the view,
Which is to my lips what my will is,
And what my will to thee remains,
That is to your will all but to my desire.”
When she had said these things, all at once she did sing,
‘Why, love, why, why then I say my love is dead,
When Love was the fairest jewel in Paradise,
And to that sweet jewel gave this lovely name,
Love’s image, and beauty’s form,
With thy worth in many things, in little things:
Which in one is better, another in many,
Whilst one art best in some, another in many;
The one best in the other, the other in many.
If any two are, and one art best,
The one best is best; the other best is best.
So the one being best, the other in many.
Then if one be all the world, the other in few,
And no world being all, the other in one,
Or one a few, the world being many,
Or many no, then you can not love me;
To me, for you were not a place,
To me you were all things, and nothing
Can hold you back, except me, whose breath
The world with his breath doth blot the air.
O how my body hath been divided,
For thy picture thine own worth doth appear.
O how his pride, which in thee doth grow,
Is like an abomination to thee,
to the world and to thy posterity.
‘How my heart hath been converted from a dove
To a dove, and all forsworn,
And from thee this fair world was sent;
And I to thee this fair heaven, for to thee
He shall have my name, and for my fame.
If in me my fame shall ever be called,
That in you I may live, and in you all your fame,
All mine, and all for you all my fame:
What shall I say about this poor beast that did give
The name of that name to my love,
And I to thee this to be called all-wise,
When in thy body thine was born, and in thy dame
Thine was all thy creation, and in thy dame
In thee I’ll be all that, and all that
That was in thee all that was not in thee,
When thou in thee art all my whole.
‘”I’ll go, sweet Lucrece, and tell my tale;
I’ll return, and then let the story tell;
I’ll read, and then read again;
I’ll die, and then die again;
The better part of me quiver with amazement,
While the lesser part writ with all her might.
‘Here, in a hollow grove, barren of plants,
Do you see how the poor beast that robs thee
Comes in and doth steal his load.
The poor lamb in the grave, having fed,
Sits sadly on the spot, panting as a man;
“Oh, oh, oh,” quoth she, “why hast thou no leisure
To hunt down the boar, and, by?
Or to carry the lark off, and, by?
Or to throw the coal-black from a hill


======== CHECKPOINT 039 OUTPUT # 003 ========

amins of this book, and many others.
‘This is an open book, that it might read,
And with your help might better be
Which to your advantage may your advantage,
Whilst I alone you alone are blind.
In vain look upon this book, and do no more
Look on me as if I had been
A mortal creature, with you were I made.
Even as a snail, with a plume
Sits where it belongs, yet not quite dead,
Or as a bat, it cannot know where it lies,
For bat do dart hither in the moist night,
Even so when in your living light
All your shadows in my living shadow doth grow,
As in your living sunshine doth live the sun.
‘But,’ quoth she, ‘now let me not say so
Since it is not my duty to say so,
I assure you I have my wit, and my memory,
That I am as true as they come,
And you are as thy father was when I was young.
‘That is,’ quoth she, ‘the worst abuse of my tongue
If ever your invention shall be able;
That your tongue, as the tongue of men,
Will ever be your mother tongue, and then be your father’s tongue,
And then will your language be my book,
And your music to your eyes shall be my music,
With my love your love your love your music to your eyes.
‘But now I wake, thou wilt wake, and I will not wake,
Because I am tied to a wall that cannot do thee good,
As thy lover is tied to a horse that can do thee well.
‘”When thou shalt see a man of your will,
Whose will, not your will, is right,
Let him ride as fast as thy heart will take;
And if he be slow, then speed, for thou art slow.
So do I with my will; and this will be,
When thou shalt see a man of my will,
Thine will is true, and mine is not;
But when thou shalt see a woman of my will,
Thou art so kind, and I hate not thee.
This, O, hath power, so force, so danger,
That nothing can restrain me from this fearful thought:
My thoughts, my heart, my blood, my bones,
But what is the force that keeps a man from his will?
Who in this body is thy will to restrain me?
What is the danger that thy will puts me in fear?
The sun that shines with his light
Or the phoenix that crosses the waterless morn
Can best his image when it doth shine in heaven;
If it doth not then it doth disgrace me so.
If that doth best, then my will is thine,
And nothing else doth but my will that make me fear
Those ineffable objects which my will cannot make,
That are not kept in perfection for their own sake.
The reason why I shun thee so,
The reason why thou forsake me so,
the reason why thou dost not seek me again,
For in the one, which in thee dost lie,
The other doth hold it in thy own disgrace.
‘O then, mine eyes do mine own repair,
The reason why thou forsake me so,
thy heart’s music to my ears beats more quickly:
Thy will, my will, thy heart’s music to thy heart beats faster:
The heart shall ever be my love, and in thee,
I’ll sing and dance, and in thee I’ll do things more.
‘My soul’s music to my heart beats faster,
Thy will, my will, thy heart’s music to my heart beats faster;
My will, my will, thy heart’s music to my heart beats faster.
‘For my love, my will, my heart’s will, my will, my will, my will,
My will be my muse; my will be my muse’s guide;
My will be my muse’ guide’s tongue; my will be my guide’s tongue’ tongue’ tongue’.
The lines and wrinkles of her face,
Making her wrinkles his mistress’ eye,
The deep raggedness of her lips’ edge,
The deep raggedness of her bottomless breasts’ edge,
And the deep raggedness of her chest’ edge,
So do the lines of wrinkles in his eyne,
And wrinkles in his cheek’s orchards’ orchards’
And wrinkles in his forehead’s cheek.
And wrinkles in his nose’s, orchards’ orchards’ bristly bristles,
And wrinkles in his cheek’s, cheek’s, bristly bristles,
The wrinkles in his face


======== CHECKPOINT 039 OUTPUT # 004 ========

Sung in the bud is made an ugly disgrace, and it is so with me;
That in my head a scarlet thread, the same,
As in a bloodless gulf, is flown away:
As if through a portal his thoughts should be,
The portal to hell is as smooth and as unlooked for,
With the portal all was black and gone.
‘I’ll tell, I’ll sing,’ quoth she;
‘Tell me not, but thou thy art the thief,’ quoth she;
“That thou art in possession of a soul,
To steal thy love from me, for I have thee:
But yet, when I behold thee, I am as thou in thee;
This is why thou wilt seek revenge,
For thou hast dishonoured my friend by so much:
‘Why dost thou make a pilgrimage to Rome,
Which from hence travels thy weary-witted son?
Thy face is like a cloud that falls on the ground;
For now it falls and thither’st no cloud for my bed;
So now it dwells on thee as a cloud doth dwell:
Since my bed is but a cloud, yet my bed
Upon that cloud is tempest; for here I lay
A dying and dying woman: ah, and here
A living and dying man. When thou wilt wilt,
I’ll let thee die of my lust;
Then dying of lust will kill thy self and make thee a man,
My sweet self and myself as objects in a dream.
‘For as I am weary, so is my love,
So is my love’s life in me,
Which to a dying man dies a living man’s part;
To a living man a living thing is beguiled.
And this I will list here a thousand ways,
Where love’s beauty lies within the flood;
If the earth’s salt, moist water prove,
The flood-god would not stop his flood,
To rid the world of this stain, that this may remain.
‘”Then thou hast stolen my heart, and my treasure,
In one swift motion, that from my breast
May overflow thy treasure and make a river:
Then thou have committed to my tomb a thief,
Which, like a dearer angel, stands gazing,
And in his shadow lies the thief that didst convert.
‘To curb my jealousy, I have this task:
To put to death the traitor in me:
To curb the good odour from the bad odour:
To put an end to all these annoyings:
Let the day’s woes of my youth
Be ended with a bath of love,
And let the summer’s sorrow drown the world in summer;
And let the summer’s joy drown the world in winter:
Let that world and all things earthly live in thine,
Then thine in eternal shame shall live as one.
‘And, lo, for thy fair self thou hast cast into the brook,
Which deep-wounded Tarquin the bane of a thousand fights;
The poison’d boar doth dally to the earth,
And death’s sharp claws and sharp teeth to the deep,
Which once so often did trot from the boar’s nest,
Whose foul jaws were sharp in their bites, and that their sharp teeth bore,
To kill or wound his prey; or else to give them no aid,
They would kill themselves or themselves, to show their poison.
This said, he strikes her, and she takes his hand,
Which, like a cross, it bears like a curse on his cheek.
‘O,’ quoth she, ‘do not abuse this,
For I have a wife, and thou wast my wife,
And I shall be thy guide and guide to thy doom.’
‘Then can I not be depraved by thy lewd abuse?’
She replies, ‘No, but thou shalt be depraved by my abuse.’
‘My love,’ quoth he,’since I know thy heart,
Thy love’s use, in use, in thy desire,
Is to entertain thee in that false respect,
Where, as a captive, thy worth is assailed,
And thence they do what they like, till they lose their wits,
The shame they feel, and their remorse;
Then it is thine own shame to blame what they do,
And the guilt of thine own sin in the guilt
is thine own guilt in the guilt’s imposition.
Here the old rhyme ends, this shows the beginning.
‘In this verse, a young man comes to his bed,
Like as those that have slept for want of rest,
But sometime a look on their youthful faces,
Doth note their silken faces, their silken hands,
Their


======== CHECKPOINT 039 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Uri at thy parts shall I no more be
Thy pure substance nor thy worth,
So shalt I have my pure love as thou art.
Now be of thee, and do not be of me.
For my sake thou shalt find me, and I shall live
Thy sweet love within me, and none within thee.
“The morning doth burn with my beauty; the night doth burn with my heaviness.
‘O, my sweet friend,’ quoth she, ‘how couldst thou bear
The death of my life if this mortal hate
Shall arise in my lifeless body the night so doth lie?
And for aught I do strive then
With my heart that which lives and to death so doth live:
For by the way there comes a boar to greet me;
She takes it from a nest in the grass,
And upon the bark lies a gazelle;
O, what dost thou mean when thou dost call me a creature?
O what a foul deed wouldst thou dost not kill;
For if it were murder’s seal, why shouldst thou be sealed?
So let my woes be eased with my love’s aid;
The world being full of woes, why shouldst thou be so kind?
O let my heart’s pleasure be the spring of my sorrow,
And my gentle breath the sweetest respiration;
Let thy tender spirit grow a second spirit,
And in thine sweet flower grow a third,
Which will then to thee shall be added thy due:
Thy worth, my worth all in one,
Tis all the better when we all have equal.
‘Poor morn, poor muse, you are gone!
Hang on, the horn stops and the boar stops;
O, your fair flower in the midst
Thrice with thee sits at a table;
Look how much greater beauty still doth dwell:
When you see them as they were, they were beauty’s parts,
And beauty did not dote upon them as their shape,
In spite of their beauty’s effect.
O pardon my grief, thou ne’er love’s decease,
O pardon my grief when thou art bereaved,
And forgive my grief when my life is spent:
The worst is that I am the least so disgraced,
When, all alone, all alone with my loss,
This makes one sad breath, one sour eye,
And one heavy heart to wail that my verse is forsaken.
But thou, that hath done me wrong, return the kiss.
“How can I?” quoth she, “if this thy heart should do me wrong?
‘If thou shouldst do so, my life will not end,
For it is not thy fault that so many are dead.
The world with itself doth make my being live,
For it is thy fault in it that so many die,
And so many live to love me with another.
When I in the ocean die, I live,
When in heaven I live I die.
And yet when thou wilt live, I in heaven die,
The earth being warmed with thy love’s fire,
The moon to the east and the stars to the west,
And all the ocean being warmed, so do I go
In search of thee, my love to thee.
For thy worth must I check the beauty of thy face,
And in this check must I be a god, a queen.
O be contented with my fame’s spoil,
If the world with fame’s spoil I do lose;
If that be the world’s world I do thrive,
My love to him is so much ado,
That he thinks it might well be called mine;
He thinks it makes him boast his fair name,
He thinks it makes him wear the garment of grace,
He thinks it makes him swear in his power
That we shall all live in immortality.
Love hath twenty proofs, but love’s twenty is none:
Thou lov’st no fault, and all thine is thine.
Thou lov’st no shame, and all thine is thine.
To this my verse with thy verse’s ending be added,
And thou mine, in the world’s fair end,
To be the world’s author of sorrow.
Love’s first discovery was the fire,
And when this fire it burned in darkness,
Laund’ring her eyes with the filth of it.
“Foul creatures in the air they burn,
So vapours seem’d to do the effect,
Th’ impression on their foul cheeks:
Foul men in the earth, foul worms in the sea.
My heart’s duty is to preach the love,
The loving heart’s duty is to preach the cure;
The loving heart’s


======== CHECKPOINT 040 OUTPUT # 001 ========

tools is an old-fashioned religion.
And yet still that the eyes of men with shining red have seen
The true beauty of thyself,
The eyes that with their glowing fire burn with his majesty,
That on his visage with all his might
Thou dost see what a happy state thou art.
If thou art forced to undertake this task,
In truth thou art contented to live by thy self,
The world’s best example to us shows thee so.
‘O thou youth of youth! what a shame to behold
That in thy late thirties in the market-place
A careless and wretched citizen
Doth this poor boy spend his time with such poor mothers,
That in the hope of some welfare they make him grow,
And then to that end in their eagerness gives him light;
So when he grows old, when poverty seems not so,
The proud and happy monarch will bid his guest well,
And, lo, happy monarchs do bid such good deeds well.
‘O love! ‘O truth, the love that thou hast concealed,
May in it be supposed that thou hast done some hurt;
And yet is it not the cause why thou hast done
so much injury to that dear jewel I keep.
What will I do then if thou wilt return
A kiss of such tender kindness? Will I be contented to die,
Or will I be contented to live a deathless life?
Or shall I be contented to live a deathless life?
Or shall I be contented to live a dying life,
Or shall I be contented to live a dying life,
Or shall I be contented to live a dying life,
Or shall I be contented to live a dying life,
Or shall I be contented to live a dying life?
Or shall I be contented to live a dying living life?
Or shall I be contented to live a dying living life?
Or shall I be contented to live a dying living life?
Or shall I be contented to live a dying living one?
Or shall I be contented to live a dying dying one?
Or shall I be contented to live a dying living one?
Or shall I be contented to live a dying living one?
‘O,’ quoth she, ‘this poor widow’s face
Is forlorn,’ quoth she, ‘and weepeth for Lucrece.’
‘”O, comfort, dear friend, how often do I hear
The mournful note that says ‘not long’
For Lucrece’ dear love’s sake shall be,
As soon as my heart’s content is sound’d,
I’ll drop her all and have no other excuse.’
When this, from the couch of Lucrece’ eye,
He begins a groan, as if she were asleep,
Whose pleading is the sound of birds’ ornaments.
‘Come in, and lay down on the ground; and I will make your bed,
For I did but groan at your poor ill-working tongue.
‘How many a thousand words of praise have I read,
So many essays, so many essays in my mind,
That I am astonished to find are gone,
To have you but as a mark of esteem still,
With that honour still with you I’ll dwell.
O what a pleasure it is to meet such a friend,
As you, I pray thee again, and all the treasure therein.
Thou art all mine, and I thy love,
I’ll be thy advocate, thy help in obtaining it,
And thou, my loving, shalt govern my destinies,
From thy lips all my errors to thy lips praise.
But for my love I do love thee so,
That they all love each other still more.
Thus were I reconciled with thy beauty,
The beauty still embracing thy parts,
When in truth I could no longer say so,
That beauty is all-perfect in all respects,
Even to the last, yet still to be forgotten,
What thou hast in thy soul was lost, and what remains,
Haply weeps, ’tis thee, this was thy best,
But what thou lost is still thine, thy best shall be.’
So for him, like a jade, Collatine lies,
Which forlornly his lips on her face do hurl;
He ducks and throws himself in a deep chute,
Whereon the violet sparks fly, whose course he parallels.
What folly to defy that which thou art afraid,
That which we think, in thee we seem.
Yet in me thou art like a king, a tyrant,
Who in his pride reigneth,
As if from thence he did not depart
In some gentle pilgrimage


======== CHECKPOINT 040 OUTPUT # 002 ========

outfield to the fair and sweet flower, and he takes his leave of her;
He is a man, and she a woman,
With him her majesty hath confined,
They kiss the base of their rank, and he, that in the ground,
Doth sit by the flower, and peep at the young,
And that beauty that peepeth in his visage?
He that loves her, he doth kiss her;
She a woman hath his eye, and she his mouth;
She his lips, his lips his lips, his lips her lips;
Both possess a full faculty, and their parts are kind,
Like unto a pair of thong which doth live,
But when the garment which they wear is torn,
they will not kiss the same.
The thing is thy dear mistress’ fault,
For in me your love so well is thy love’s foundation;
Myself thy dear love’s love, thy love’s love, thy love’s love,
Then my love was the sun that set in Paradise
And you were my true love, thy true love’s love,
As you are now, I love you now to some extent,
And now to a greater part, with your constant love.
So from this true love, the mind surfeits,
As your false Muse’s eyes, that do not know what
You mean when they see what you mean;
They will look at nothing but their own amazement.
‘”Then why shouldst thou be the son of such a father,
With thy kind kindness given to mine eye
Threw forth thy power, and by it grew mighty,
And brought my love to thy aid, even so,
His power by force was but feeble,
And to my love was no power more;
And in spite of all that he did win,
The old love he did possess lost his power,
And I to him my love, as all men to thee,
Wished him with all my love would live, even so,
That his strength might not lose but by my love’s death.
‘”Therefore in the night I’ll make the sick-bedir’d vow
That tomorrow thou hast no excuse to hide,
For thou in me shall seem to be the prey,
And to this sad vulture be thine eye,
Saw this dreadful night I with my tongue did kill;
That night was as bad a time as I had thought it spent.
‘I love thee in the best sense, and yet no feeling,
Can persuade me thou shouldst forsake me,
To go and make thee my friend again, or make me thy foe:
For love hath no right to lie dead, and death no right.
To kill thee I’ll do; and lo I never kill thee again.’
She clears her eyes, and turns her pale face pale,
As if on some fright, or other, or for fear,
As if from some fearful dread she should feel,
The pale-fac’d Lucrece comes back with some speed,
And in a quick haste comes in sight of his foes,
The heralds of war and peace stand and watch,
Where men have slain and made them look ashy.
O thou that hast so forsook me,
The day was past good enough to make me ill,
So must thou now be in hope of another’s death.
But if ever my hope in thee was short,
And ever I lived as a present-abstraction flower,
That thou wouldst still be living, still in me still
Thy shadow doth live on, and on that thou lov’st me.
That is to say, thou lov’st me in spite of loss.
I think thee well, though all my thoughts are mad;
Yet thou lov’st me not in spite of my death:
And though all my love doth live in thee,
Thy love is but a shadow of my true love;
And yet my love’s worth as well as thy love’s worth,
And mine own worth as well as thy own worth,
Whilst thy own worth thy self doth live,
Himself thy own worth doth live, but mine own worth doth live.
‘Then what is thy fair name? How many beauties are there,
Or what kind of name are you? I cannot tell,
I have not been taught much about beauty,
But I have seen plenty of examples of it,
Thou art so pretty, even in a fair city.”
“Ay, dear friend,” quoth she, “this poor dame hath
a knife, that will strike at thee in three or four hits;
And as it strikes, thou wilt catch my eye;
It is hard for me to breathe; but when I look, I see thee breath


======== CHECKPOINT 040 OUTPUT # 003 ========

HIM in a jade-green sheen:
Whose bareness so lends grace a hue,
Which seems white to the eyes that use it.
What may I say, dear boy, that you have seen this face,
In a jade-green sheen weeps at your passing?
But let me say more, since my love you are newer,
When beauty (not youth) shall be your guide,
Whose pale complexion will not wail your worthless deeds,
For that which you have in store in me is thine?
Or is it love, which seeks thee with scorn,
To make you smile, and then you can frown?
Love looks for love; lust for lust; and hate for hate:
What should my love have made then, but now the sun hath stood,
And from the clouded heaven doth fly,
That through the cloudy heaven doth dwell.
And from her flame-black bed lies a babe,
As she slept for his sake on the ground,
To give her some good cheer and see her again:
If you want to know the reason of love’s spring,
Look here at the little angel that was
With thee when thou came to the gate, where thou didst stay,
And there you sat listening, listening to me tell,
Thy true self thee that art (though thou appear)
Hath sworn a greater crime than thou slew’st.
But how many more lies false than thou wilt wilt find,
With every stain that thy life can show.
So do I in this dire hour:—
‘”My poor boy, what are you afraid?
Why dost thou look on my helpless face?
My poor boy, where dost thou hide?
Where are you to find me when I am so much better?
‘”Look where you are now, and if it grow
That will make your heart flatter with your tears;
Let there be no excuse in vain:
‘Tis said there are three Lucrece that live,
If thou dost say so, there is no excuse in grief:
Then how could I not weep for thee?
That was thy good night, and my last:
The painter did bring back the dead painter,
That he may be remembered as ‘twain.’
‘”But that painter, in that dead creature
With whose visage all the world’s fair plants were put,
Hath buried their sepulchres in mud and tears,
His shadow was so well imprinted in my face
That I did scratch him, and said ‘Tell me, how many times
do I look in those sad windows again?’
And in those windows did I see the roses and the rose,
The stars would not touch them, but their light
Show’d them in some dim blot upon their pale cheeks.
For shame we all must live under a sun,
Where all evil reigns in vain.
“So many others see the lion, that none knew well
But the one with whom he runs, that none cares,
For fear of being spotted nor his lusty tail.
Thou hast done me wrong; yet I cannot think of thee again,
For when I am come back I must begin again:
Now I know thee better, but the shame will live in me.
Love can change nothing, and yet thou art in such a state,
Thou cannot change thy mind, I love thee so much more than I hate.
When thou return I’ll be ready to kiss thee,
And then I’ll kiss thee, and kiss thee till thou wilt say ‘Love me’
If thou wilt, then love cannot change thy mind.
Let me tell you, sometime before this,
When thou grow’st I’ll wail my discontent,
And when thou wilt I’ll be mute and weep for thee.
Let me tell you, sometime before this,
My old friend in the brook beside you,
With his old habitude and skill, came to stand
With him by a sweet stream that flowed to the river;
And in him had stood some proud herd, their hair tied,
Dressed in costly cloaks and of white;
For in their place stood their silver statues
As if from some unknown place in the sky;
If their stars did thence follow their course,
Their silver rings would seem to enclose
The world with their silver web, each part
Which in the round globe, on either side
Shows their destinies from thence to come,
Whereon their lives they might be measured
And be reckoned by your heavenly wills.
“My grief shall not leave you still,
Nor my sorrow may still detain me in thy breast,
Nor thy suffering eye still remain so dumb.
Even as thou dost


======== CHECKPOINT 040 OUTPUT # 004 ========

REC.
THE eye hath done him wrong;
But when she hath done him no wrong,
What’s the matter? he thinks it is her fault;
His heart doth wrong, and she forswore it.
And why did she not, thou wilt know,
That in his heart a proud bragg came,
And took him for his mistress’ sake?
If so, why then she is a coward;
When in his pride she hath done him disgrace?
If not, then she is the fairest,
For he is a proud lord, the dame a fickle groom;
Her self-love is in him all beauty;
He himself is master, mistress and all his self;
Her self, and that in him all difference
Of all, is his self in every respect:
The painter is not the master of what he is painted.
That which he in himself may do make use
Of every thing else, to his advantage,
Or give what is best to the worst, or best to each.
For he himself cannot do all things well,
But in the workmanship of his art,
When all is done he doth well do most of his part;
Yet still all that he himself is contending
And all the other parts do lend the parts good,
That his self, like an arch-doting nun,
Writeth all that his heart doth owe him,
And all his self to this end agrees.
‘Then why hast thou not begun to use the book,
Of rhetoric to your advantage,
And read well the works of those beauties that are
Made in thy image? what dost thou make use of it?
O what is thy duty in thy image?
Or else tell me, when thou shalt write what I say,
Which one I like best? which one am I least?
‘Why’r thou that which I have writ,
Wherein I was once a lover and fond
Of new-fallen-melting love? why should I still say
Love’s breath breath breatheth moisture in stale air?
For thou art both breath and fire, and cold fire and cold fire!
‘But, what is this, gentle man,
But with my tongue canst thou translate
The following words of praise to my ear:
My heart, thou that art my guide,
To guide this great wind that winds my way,
To push the clouds which are above me,
to make mine own will more gentle,
To make thy self thy guide, and to make it stronger:
My tongue therefore hath many a lease,
And never so much as hath taught me the way;
And then I have read in the bower a book,
That many a sweet verse I in the bower sing,
Which, if you would read it, would tell the story.
‘That your self I may say is the best of me,
But I know that thou art nothing else than me.’
If thou prove this false, what is the matter,
For thy self I will be thy mistress,
And mine own self I will be thy slave?
O, if thy self be such a deceiver,
The thing which thy self should be,
Thy self art thy self, and therefore no other,
For me thy self is my mistress and slave.
Then from me thou canst not draw away,
If thou shouldst waken this self in me.
The hour is nigh, where thy self I once stood
The vulture stole thee, and thou hast brought me all to grief.
“That thou mayst bequeath me to this night’s rest,
By granting me the right, so long as thou abide,
And me to this night will live as I have been,
If life in me is such a turning,
That thou shouldst live and live again in me.”
So says he, and so she on he goes.
At this her lips change colour, and on her cheek
Piercing the wound, the wound is sore.
“My wound,” quoth she, “it shall heal,
And from thence it may then be re-grafted
Like a virtuous physician’s hand,
Which cures infection, like a saint’s patient.
“My wound,” quoth she, “it shall cure,
And from thence it may then be re-grafted
Like a virtuous physician’s hand,
Which cures infection, like a saint’s patient.
“My wound,” quoth she, “it shall cure,
And from thence it may then be re-grafted
Like a virtuous physician’s hand,
Which cures infection, like a saint’s patient.
“My wound,” quoth she, “it shall cure,
And from thence it may then be re-g


======== CHECKPOINT 040 OUTPUT # 005 ========

ISM in me,
And as their beauty doth their worth,
So do their faults remain as I do their worth.
‘In thee,’ quoth he, ‘I do live,
And thou hast made me to live by thy side.’
This said, her eyes began to move,
Touches of all shapes, sizes and lengths were seen
Like twisted needle-work in the dark,
To show the dire wolf that lives by deceiving day:
Then would the birds at their leisure sing and tune;
‘Tis well bred for sport; yet that tongue doth sing,
Who can boast of that praise so?
O heartless wretch! the world cannot hold thee in esteem,
Nor is it in thy will that thy will be
To remove me from that which I have sworn of thee.
And that will be thy will, when thou shalt be free,
Thou shalt be his slave, as he that art with thee,
For with thy love thy servile hand it doth hold him prisoner,
Even in the sweetest hand of love’s love,
I fear’d his will would extend with him still longer,
Since, like a fearful bat, he shall never be free,
Even to a barren womb can he breed another.
When thou wilt, O thou pure-minded wretch,
Be with me, I will be thy guide;
Thy office, thy heart, thy heart’s content;
Thy will, and thy love’s will, are one,
And all the other are two; let it not be,
That thou art in me all that befits me no more:
And if that be true, then let it not be so;
For nothing is love that can repel thee;
A thousand faults do atone the other’s name;
Love was a thing of thine own, and that was
Not made for ornament, nor made it to scorn.
Love’s light never dimmed with darkness;
Love’s brow was brow black and brow brown,
Love’s face was brow black and brow red,
Love was a flower, but it was not of that hue
It should be called Desire, since in it
There was both truth and falsehood:
It should have been Desire, and beauty would not approve,
Lest that said love should bear it wrongfully.
‘Well, my dear friend, you may confess
That I am wretched and do wrong me,
The worse for your welfare is I to blame,
Whereupon with my negligence you are to suffer.
In thee, all these faults will attend,
Each to itself did prepare the grave.
But if he should do thee wrong, thou wilt help me to mend,
Till I myself do him disgrace by my deeds:
Till then thou wilt do me honour, for which thou wilt lend me;
And when thou wilt, my hope of victory,
Will not be shaken; but thou shalt not let it slip:
For all that praise thou hast spent, my wonted will,
Gives me peace, and makes me forget this doom,
As I do thy self doth forsake me.
Thy love, to you, as dear friend, to all that hate,
Thy love gives me joy, and that is to hate me still.
To me thou gav’st my life, and to my friends no more;
To them thou gav’st mine, and they thee wast left.
“But when thou wilt, as a weakling,
Divert all ranks of me from thy sight,
And every part that touches thee I fear,
Against thee thou, I beseech thee this day.
“O, hear me out, for I can see thee well,
And know thee well, but with that blind spot I cannot see.
If there be eyes in me that are kind,
To pity me if thou wilt, I think I must die,
Even where thou art buried in thine eyes.
‘But what if thou dost not see me,
Then are you dead and in me living,
To make me hear thee again when I am alive.
If you are dead, and I in thee living,
Then for ever, and ever, I will be alive,
And die for you, and die for you not.”
So goes the story of her death, as it were told
By Lucrece’ eyes, still with death’s death,
As she still with life’s life, still with death’s death.
‘For thou wilt kill me,’ quoth she, ‘I have no desire to kill thee;
Nor am I bound to kill thee in any way,
Unless thou kill me sometime at least.
‘Look at these black clouds that hang on the west,


======== CHECKPOINT 041 OUTPUT # 001 ========

wines’ true nature was not, nor could ever be,
That she might in the worst-favour’d form find,
The gentle kiss of love’s loving hand.
‘Tis thine, O Love, thy soul’s due;
But if thou, like a dearer slave,
May, like an unapproved wretch, forfeit
To such a greater disgrace.
Thus ends his troubled hour, and to-morrow he doth survey:
In this he spies the fair, which like a shining brook,
Pursues the nightly pilgrimage of his eyes,
Where sun and moon dote each other’s ill.
‘But be this brief, I wish I could say more
When I shall have seen such a sight in the sky.
What a spectacle it must be,
For there it sits, as a monument of light,
And all the world at once seen, in white,
As if from some unseen eye some wonder did draw
That all these powers should think it odd.
‘But that no ill or crime should ever creep,
So far are they from all my thoughts and spirits,
that in the heavens I am thought to lie,
But where I love, the earth is thine own,
And in thine own thoughts I do change my mind.
O, that fair and holy spring which thy hand doth cover,
Where life’s bounteous harvest doth store,
That life’s fair flowers yield and where life’s rarest
Gives a sweet semblance of beauty to thy brow,
Yet beauty’s fair flower is dimm’d with decay,
Which makes the shadow blunter and blazer,
As thou the flower’s self being dimmed doth appear.
As thou their fair sun doth make the moon red,
So shall I in the spring, where I love thee best,
And in thy fair spring doth spring thy colour.
‘Tis lawful to hunt for trophies,
That in thy fair store the harvest may be bought,
Wherein they may live, and where they may die;
But it is my duty to let them live where they please;
They that live, I want none, mine alone to kill.
So then he (being coy, and unwilling to slay)
As much as he takes, thou dost give thee,
As much as thy worth doth command thee;
And as much as a beggar doth beguileth thee,
thou ‘gins the day with all haste,
And dost do it with haste to-morrow;
When thou dost start the day with tedious sighs,
Who, mad, dare not wake the day,
And not let that night be thy welcome.
The wind sighs at thine eyes,
Which is so much ado about nothing,
That her heart’s drum beats with a beating,
Which like a dying bell makes a loud cheer:
The sad voice thus quoth she,
“Ah, this verse should I not translate,
If ever I could do it in one word,
Which I would gladly translate,
Where one might write a short hymn to thee.”
‘Now she sits, with tears still in her eyes,
Sorrow still in her eyes, sorrow still in her eyes;
Like the two she now looks upon,
Which she now admires more hotly,
And yet for the same reason doth frown more;
“Now this is to your good pleasure,
I will not deprive you of mine;
You were not to me beguiled,
The thing was yours and I did for you.
Thus she looks upon the night, and by, as the stars do,
They rise up, and in her hearing palmers fly;
Her lips do tremble, her eyes do shake;
The airy green leaves that cover her face,
Are in every part clouded up in rain.
And when the skies seem filled with night-beholding,
And every where with a giddy eye,
Or with a heavy heart’s eye,
Showing endless batt’ry from the sky,
And all with this mighty load of doom,
The poet quoth:—’And now my verse needs some correction
And correction of my love,
To be true of this vile device.
“Poor soul,” quoth she, “how long have I not slept,
And begun my verse thus:—”The earth’s rich soil doth feed
The cattle’ herds, the vine’n groves, the meadows’ fields,
The fisher’s rushes, the brook’s roaring:
In these three seasons of winter,
O dry summer, why doth this winter still
Such barrenness and barrenness
Of all things earthly and of things heavenly?
O mild-mannered wife, what love can hold still


======== CHECKPOINT 041 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Nob-suborned,
Ornaments in gold, precious stones, ornaments
In antique brass, precious gems, ornaments,
Ornaments in ivory, precious stones, ornaments,
Ornaments in ivory, precious stones, ornaments,
Ornaments in stone, precious stones, ornaments.
‘O let not my tears be the parching tide
Of winter’s long-weeping weather,
Nor be my love’s tears the spoil of spring’s golden spring,
Nor his groans, nor his tears the burning of summer’s burning,
Nor his sad groans the loud beating of winter’s growing,
Nor his deep-pounding sorrow with his tears yieldeth;
But let them not to drown the ocean,
Nor live but in shallow graves,
Or else in sepulchres of graves where none,
May be found such a sepulchre in me,
As shallow graves of dead men’s graves lie,
Where graves themselves themselves must have their date,
For in those graves lies death, and beauty lies,
And beauty’s date is death’s date,
For beauty’s date is beauty’s date,
And beauty’s date is death’s date,
And that is what is to come;
So, o’er the heartless world, that you boast,
Thy proud boast shall still be thy boast,
As the sun to a shining star,
And all that is in thy face thy glory boast,
And thou shalt see all my lines in the ground,
But never the stars that set in my sight.
Let th’ imagination deceive, let th’ imagination make sense
And to my thoughts so false my thought doth appear,
To make me wail my doom by thy will:
Now that my eyes are open wide, so that no one may see
My thoughts to myself, and yet no one sees
My thoughts to my self, yet no one loves me:
This in me is thine own doom;
But thy words, in my words, I hold to be high,
Which thou lov’st my self, though thou lov’st thyself no more.
‘”If he had spied my complexion, and in it
A pair of fairy horns that had not wiry bristles,
Ornaments full of gold ornaments,
Ornaments in ivory, precious stones, ornaments,
Ornaments in ivory, precious stones, ornaments,
Ornaments in ivory, precious stones, ornaments,
Ornaments in ivory, precious stones, ornaments,
Ornaments in ivory, precious stones, ornaments,
Ornaments in ivory, precious stones, ornaments,
Ornaments in ivory, precious stones, ornaments.
“Since thou art dead, I will not kill thee,
But thou must be found to rob thy soul of thy will.”
‘Gainst me not thy self a living image,
But let me live in thee as thy self doth live,
Let thy dead self live not in thy living being,
And let my dead self live in thee as thy living being,
And let thy living self die in thee as thy living being.
O how thy death shall our dying day behold!
When, wistly amaz’d by thy untimely haste,
Weeps at the earth with sad eyes, at the sky with light,
Sad ears to hear the proud countenance
of one rarest of all creatures;
Who in her ecstasy doth entertain
The proud queen of the proud monarch
Who on a golden throne,
As white and shining as heaven’s sun,
To greet the prince whose image doth stand
Into the wide-angle sky, where they will stay,
So sweetly she chides his foes.
‘To win her heart, I’ll kiss her neck,
And I’ll kiss her cheeks; so she will not love,
If my lips do woo her heart; if her heart woo’st,
If her heart is slain, she doth lose her tongue.
‘Thou wilt see how the wretch that so doth lie,
Shall stand in the way of the wretch that hath sought thee,
But thou shalt see thy self thy self do dissemble,
And die, thou wilt be gone in a moment.
If that then thou shouldst desire,
I will not forsake thee, nor forsake thee;
Though thou livest and I die and never be gone,
Nor live again till I am dead,
When I am, thou shalt live and never be gone.
So, if that be true,
Thy self be the wretch that lives to see thee,
And thou the wretch that lives and dies


======== CHECKPOINT 041 OUTPUT # 003 ========

settings, that are my bones and marrow, my lips and tongue;
That are my marrow, my liver, my bone, my breast,
My liver, my brain, my brain’s heart.
To thee, I say, I am thy friend,
And thou thy neighbour, and thou thy friend’s slave:
Thy face doth thy heart a sight,
And by my heart’s sweet concord doth troth,
The whole body chid’st to meet this doom.
But now her voice is gone, and she hath gone;
And thou, the thing to blame, I the fault of thy time,
My guilty breath to breathe anew,
And my guilty breath to swallow up any guilt,
When I am truly guilty of the fault that thou dost make,
Let my guilty breath hold the breath of all thy rest,
And I thee as the day were wont to blush,
That thou thy self, with thee, thy good name
Shall rise in the clouds, and march not to thine eyes,
Where gluttony may boast on thy state.
For that thou art so kind, I beseech thee:
As my self to thee, I wish I had such a thing,
And such a goodly self as I am now,
To give to those poor with me thy living:
Yet in the abundance that thou hast left,
If thine be such a spoil, how canst thou get rid,
If thou give up thy self in love?
‘For love,’ quoth she, ‘love is death,
and life is death’s punishment,
And beauty’s fair death be praised if it be fresh.
Thy beauty’s fair death’s rein will not renew her
In a fresh replication of thy state.
‘”Let us therefore be reconciled to one another,
If in our grief there is such a thing as disdain,
That it shall never vex the eye to see,
Nor shall our bitterness exceed our offence.
The reason why we should hate each other is,
Though some part of us say so,
That we would kill each other’s spirits;
So might we slay one another’s fancies,
And never cease one to talk of murders.
O my friend, if those eyes of mine that read,
Have eyes like those of those fair beauties that live here,
Or, if those eyes, like those fair eyes, love’s fair state,
Then thy fair self must have eyes like those fair eyes,
If such eyes thou art, mine is thine.
Love and pity seem to one another equal,
When each by their equal part doth give,
But, being neither, neither shall have either’s eyes;
Yet for each’s true eye there appears
an equal part of shame, and much grief:
Her name, though unknown to all,
Sorrow to him is not so much esteemed,
She so called, that she did manage
To keep the place she’d hold in so much disdain.
“And be not so fond of him, I have seen,
That you are kind-hearted and kind-deaf,
And though our tongues be as dumb as stone,
you with my verse can read in my verse,
Which, like a scroll, you will open and close.
When I am dead, when my verse was no more,
Where was my spirit when you made me immortal,
Or when you redolent me to the fire,
Or why the sun that set on this earth befriends
The dead earth from heaven again,
Nor leave your heavenly name in your sonor’s name.
But my love, my love’s true name, should your name be,
The one, that shows how true your love was.
Now that the summer’s end is past,
Let me count the days from now till then,
And let the days lengthen the length of my life,
To give you more leisure to begin again,
Since I will spend this time here in my bed.
But I will not spend you till your will is done.
Thy fault I have not yet made am excuse;
Thy fault will take thy self to a faraway shore,
And then I’ll be gone, and thou must stay.
Thy spirit I do shake, it shall shake no more.
The earth may be full of worms, yet mine eye
Pleads on the sky, and on the ground,
Which through the web she guides obeys.
But my heart, my heart shall not win in that which it contains,
For if that be true, what shall I say?
O then say thy self, thy heart’s sweetest heart,
Tells thy heart’s content to wander aside,
Which shall leave nothing but that which is found
That lends thee truth, beauty,


======== CHECKPOINT 041 OUTPUT # 004 ========

Awakening in an age of darkness, where the weak sleep of reason did dwell.
‘Look how she walks, and yet she no shape can hold her hand
With such a slight pace, as when she enters a park,
With such gentle pace, yet no shape can catch her hand,
But woe to me when I ride along, if I die,
When life-force, by nature’s command, is in excess,
And so much more is in my strength, than in thy face.
Whence are we not all that in spite of one,
Each son, or every daughter, or any of us,
All for one thing have we done, or been done to deserve;
As when I, as his name by mine own name
Sets out upon the ocean’s current,
The ocean’s current with his current takes his place,
And all the rest rest takes his place,
Like a heavy-slaughter’d boat, in the water,
And now this heavy boat doth he proceed,
To make him return again, and so return
To kill his breath by a harder blow:
For no man’s breath can remove a heavy blow,
though water be heavy, yet it seems
Heavy indeed to me now, as when I was light,
As when the sun goes down in a cloud.
O, that thy light so pure doth my body doth boast!
that thou dost breathe in the form of man,
To show thy self on thine own terms,
Which thou dost not yet possess, despite of me,
If it prove true, thou art all-wise right.
O pardon me then, how rare then thou wast when I was young,
A thousand times more rare now than when thou wast old!
Thine eye the better seeing better,
For this better being, mine being thy good,
Thine eye the worse losing the better gaining.
So am I, now all those that do the duty
Of serving thee, in my power do forsake me,
To stay my headlong quest of revenge.
For though thou thy name be buried in thine own pride,
yet I never saw thee shine a whit in thy face;
And yet thou in thy deeds didst stand in need
And by thy deeds I should esteem thee:
And therefore did I love thy face even when thou wast dead.
What shame dost thou make of me now that I see thee so green,
For life’s golden age thou so coldly disdain’st?
Or of this beauty thy beauty is like this:
If life’s golden age were but like thee,
How could thine beauty live that age so cold?
To me thou art but the same,
If beauty’s colour doth stain the same,
My heart with thy colour doth stain all, my soul doth forsake me,
Yet thou art my love, and I his love.
To be blunt, and thus blunt in my words,
For to me, the knife is bluntness’s dullest knife.
‘”For there lies the sweet jewel in thy hand,
That hath not yet been scythed, and yet no scythed,
Canst thou still live the flower? or else
That thy living flower to thy self will be?
The one, though alive, still thy self shall die.
O how many a flower hath her in thy hand,
And yet no flower in thine is living,
Which by thy own hand, and in thy deed
canst not be thy flower?
Who, that thy beauty in thy self liveth,
What self canst not make thy self love?
Whose body no form hath of his acture doth give
Thy self thy image doth hide, thy life doth give,
thy beauty doth hide, thy life doth give;
So, thou art all these, and all these doth live
As one, and all these in one.
thou art all this, and all these in one.
“Why art thou all these, and all these in one?
Because thou art all these, and all these in one.
What is this, that thou mayst speak,
But to my verse, whose true form thou wilt take.
What dost thou make of this false cipher,
That hath not already been done?
Who was it not with much ceremony
That gave the herald the green?
And what good had it to gain her that time,
Whose name was not yet born to praise?
Why should men’s eyes open when their pen doth begin?
But he that is rich in thine, so doth he steal,
Wherein the eyes of men are made blind.
This boast, which she makes of him,
His denial is his own reason


======== CHECKPOINT 041 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Measure on my poor face,
My joints were broken in a knot;
But as her lover she did not mend,
She did fix a sharp knife to pry;
Then in a trembling motion, her eyes, now dark,
Are in a frenzy, like madmen plunging;
She, mad, strikes him with her hand, and so
Her other hand she holds fast to his neck.
So, lo, he doth hear her complain,
Lest she should break his will, and be set free.
This said, Collatine did give his eye
A desperate look, and presently she
Charged the knife with great danger,
And made him her main pursuit.
‘For this purpose will I kill this poor man,
If I will, and yet thou shalt not slay me.’
“Die,” quoth she, “if thou shalt, and yet he will not catch me.”
“O yes,” quoth she, “I was deceived;
By this my spirit did betray me;
When I met your fair Adonis,
O yes,” quoth she, “you were a son,
And a true son is to a true father a son,
I’ll bear thy image in vain, though thou make me proud.”
And from her bed, whereupon she lay
A glass of clean crystal water,
That she as the sun still might see.
‘O,’ quoth she, ‘do not believe in witchcraft;
A kind of enchantress’ fair, well-built, and modest face,
That doth smile and bear the picture;
Who, as she prepares to appear,
Looks on with surprise the eyes that doth behold her;
And to the eyes of men she gazeth,
And frowns upon the unseen,
And puts on the false pride that so thrives on fear.
And thus ’tis done, and Adonis
Is forced to make his plea;
And the maiden fair that by his hand he doth cherish,
Doth in her hand his love-sick habitation,
That he by turns ravish’d, or else give him relief.
‘Then would I have died if I had lived,
I suspecting the night would have given thee this,
So thou shalt die alone.
‘Thus far, my love I have given nothing but ill;
This I’ll forbear from again, till the better dispensation
May make better use of your time.
To whom do I not appeal when I go,
That you have a greater store of time
In which to rehearse me than I in you?
My love is true; to your sweet love I am afraid.
The more I think about it, the less I love you,
For in the thing it is, I find the defect
A little of love lost is almost lost,
Or lost all, but more for that which we see:
Thine eye hath his fixed place and view,
The heart’s fixed place and view,
and every little wound which might conduce
To help thee in his cure will remain
An injury of your death, even to death’s end:
‘O well I, if not to you, then at least
To do thy wonted will I do to make thee more:
But now I have all for thy will done.
O no, that I may have been of your will,
And for my sake did not do it for fear,
That you might so advantage your will.
‘If thou wilt, thou wilt fulfill all my will,
Thou art my friend, my god, and will bear thee
To every blessed date, to every holy hour:
Since from thee dost thou this day’s work come,
thou wilt live, I have no duty to kill,
That you should live by my example,
In other respects am I better qualified.
This said, his hand came in a fist,
Whose hollow body it met with th’ outcry.
Now she was deified of his power,
The thing he had in mind, the thing he sought,
And in his desire doth convert it into force,
To give his will full power, and make the deed stay.
She looks, and the place where she sat is white,
And as it were a place where her eyes had rest,
Her cheek being filled with that which it cover’d,
Her brow being full of that which now she shows.
‘This sight, that thou dost behold, in thy heart
Shall wittily thy heart be misled:
Thy eye in thee, all things else else controll’d
Are dreams, made for shadows.
‘And this wondrous spectacle thou dost behold,
Which every one above thy prime will bear witness,
Thy self to


======== CHECKPOINT 042 OUTPUT # 001 ========

Rebellon’d, not for thyself.
But thou hast, like a dying god, been wrought a king:
He hath been but a living god;
Then was he thy father’s slave, that thou mayst bear him,
Whom thou dost destroy, as thou dost destroy me,
From me thou wast a son born of worth,
And that thou mayst live on, still dost kill me,
From me thou wast a son born a dame,
And that thou mayst live on, still dost kill me,
From me thou wast a son born a dame,
And that thou mayst live on still doth kill me.
But if thou survive in this, this is thy death;
For if thou survive in it thou wast made for,
And not to recreate, so is thy life.
“O father! pity the fool,
By whose sinful thoughts my love doth confound!
O shameful heart! O proud pride! O false heart!
O false thief! Let him be freed now,
Let him be freed soon after;
For his crime he hath committed, but his guilt still remains,
His honour is not worth the loss,
So why should I then forfeit the thing I covet,
For what I think I have deserved?
So are you. Collatine, I do not know
All this, nor all my good in you lies,
The thing that you, in me, make me grow,
For me you make me better. Collatine,
For Collatine, I am Collatine,
And Collatinus is Collatinus’.
And that Collatinus hath done this to me,
And in me, he hath done all this,
that all men might believe Collatinus.
‘Thus in a certain place did Tarquin appear,
Hiding the wound from which she fell,
Towards whom he was wont to rest his strong arms;
For the boy, seeing his wound, would at once bow,
For he was not the thing he sought but the fee.
‘So did Adonis slay Tarquin, and he to thee,
When in the midst of them both Adon slew,
And in the name of both worlds confounded,
So did Adonis betray the two truce’d lords,
And then the prince to Tarquin slew
At last, ‘twixt their hands he was tied:
Her maiden name was Adonis’ and her mother’s name,
Her maiden blood a queen’s shade confounded,
To keep all things private, and therefore not public:
For that name in the watery blood
Which by that name she bore confounds
And kills all good women and all creatures good.
‘”O, what a sight that endures when once struck,
It seems to me a spirit to fly from a tree,
And in the air where it lands it doth flit;
Such vapours, resembling heavenly vapours,
Are apt to burn immodest buildings and make them more shaded.
If that be the case, this fire, which is burning,
May in my body thence be purified,
And my body in it be purified again.”
He that doth flatter himself that he doth flatter,
Yet ’tis his poor self that doth boast of it,
Till he on his self boast so, to gain what he cannot get,
The rich steal his treasure, the poor he lends;
For then their lords in debt do lend him,
Which he doth dismount in his haste,
Like those that would break from their boundless arms.
Let him, not in haste to the bottom,
That he may not wade nor sink before he takes,
Nor live by delays so long,
as his own might prove.
When he hath so surfeit, all enmity breaks,
And thus Collatine, Collatine of thine,
Against his will doth he dare not speak,
But when his will doth speak, he shakes his head,
And neighs upon his foe, and loathsome stories fly,
That with his foul tongue their enemies may well know.
When Collatinus, Adon, Tarquin, and the rest,
Have defeated their own armies, their state is made plain,
their foes their enemies themselves betray.
Thus Collatinus, Adonis, Tarquin, and the rest,
As Romans when they conquer, make the war,
And then themselves themselves themselves themselves betray,
This conquest is the more grievous.
To have her in war with him thus, is treason,
‘Tis, she’s my love’s husband, and he my wife,
That my love loves not her when he’s not with me,


======== CHECKPOINT 042 OUTPUT # 002 ========

fright of them will make them forget him.
‘O, what a dame of hers I have been!
As queen of Rome, or mistress of any,
My dear Lucrece must have wished me dead,
To be buried in thy tomb alive.
‘How can such a fool deny that he loved me,
As if in my tears thou dost then weep,
To say he loved me in the least?
Or else that he never saw me?
What gives him pleasure that he so doth boast,
To say he did not even think of me when he looks?
But as the gouty pines he now doth pine,
So do we pine, and pine for ever,
If in thy thought thou dost resort to my song,
Or if thine to speak of me so,
The sun will not scorn thee, nor pine at thy verse;
All praise be to thine own self that doth live,
Even where thou livest, not where thou livest:
I should therefore write thee the night before.
When thy love hath writ in my heart,
And in my soul hath writ in thine,
Thy love shall live in my heart, and in thine,
Thy body, and thine in thine, shall survive thee.
‘So then is he forced to leave his lord,
To make him wait with more eager eyes;
And therefore the gaudy groom, as he prepares to lean,
Shows not hospitality, but oaths that he will take,
To woo his captive still farther away.
When all these batt’ring gates are but for one,
And all these with no breach of trust
Will open to every eye that can see,
Which eye which loves this most, that beholds,
Will look, and say Amen, and straight
To each and every part of him, wherein he dwells:
At the doors which open are like windows;
The one to open will not yet see him;
The other will not yet see him.
‘Thou wrong’st us, ’twas not the time,
It was a precedent to his course;
The other’st a precedent to his ending.
‘So, in the heart of thine own will,
In what thoughts and wills hath life sprung,
Who by thy deed through death shouldst live?
In whom in thy will’s wake art thou to dwell?
What is thy soul’s will and purpose,
That ever by thy will or will’s end canst thou stay?
This question is the hardest to answer,
For every one by a single wish,
can the cipher still hold out some light;
Till his cipher will say he loves thee, and yet
He says no, he is a coward and he will not stay;
He would not betray him with words, but would wail him dead.
‘For why should men decease women,
When they themselves themselves themselves themselves would betray?
Then is the fault of the livery moon,
And all things foul in the fair are but black
From thy beauty to thy lips, and forth again:
She hath the white, she loves the red.
‘And when the sun in heaven’s blaze hath dyed
The face of the heavenly host,
And all that is in him red, pale, and weary,
With his lips hath done his purpose end,
And yet all the world, from thence, to see
From Tarquin’s flaming furnace, all this motion
And all my part in all his work so troubled,
So is this verse mine alone, or mine alone,
When all men’s eyes, and all their parts together
Made that verse my own, to thee belong.
Thus did he say, ‘I love thee,’ ‘O yes, ‘O yes, ‘And by this my verse,
To thee belong I leave no farther fear,
For thou shalt live, and all my parts shall live.
So live I that in thee belongest.”
Thus did she answer her alabaster eyes,
Which with more red than blood now lies,
Hearing her bewitch’d tongue, as she was woo’d with the wind.
‘Had she not,’ quoth he, ‘experienc’d me thus,
And seen my face in her glass;
‘Had she not,’ quoth she, ‘experienc’d me thus,
And seen her in her glass!’
What a spectacle then, that in thy face,
A careless wretch, with a mirthful laugh,
Let his visage in a bath full of woe,
And let that be thought a kind of hell,
whereon our fairs and gardens are made,
Thy face, and all those that are in us made,
And all


======== CHECKPOINT 042 OUTPUT # 003 ========

tremendous a cloud, and she on him grew as if by the wind.
And now with the wind she doth begin,
Whose course that she doth follow doth not alter.
“So soon as this wind shall blow away thy brow,
My eyelids shall be set on fire, and thy lips burnt out,
My joints shall tremble, my joints shall tremble.”
She says these words to fright the boy;
“Let them see,” he replies, “there is no god but love,
But there is no god but love that loves.”
That’s all there is to say.
‘But why should I not kiss his lips?
What kind of kiss would I give him?”
“Ay,” quoth he, “breathe deeply, breathe gently,
And kiss his lips again, and repeat again.
‘That is, but a dream,’ quoth she, ‘and I know not what it means.
My heart’s sealer, if his heart break,
Then shall my heart break again and be drown’d in filth.’
‘But for that, I say, thou shalt not take my tongue,
And put my love in the mouths of fools.’
‘O, that shall be thy fair name! Let no man tell what it is!’
O none but that name will bear it:
let him have no love without a fair tongue,
And no love without a fair tongue a fool!
let him have many a pretty tongue,
And many a pretty mind, and yet no true mind
Like herself were espoused to be.
O let him have many a pretty tongue,
And many a pretty mind, and yet no true mind
Like herself were espoused to be.
‘Poor traitor!’ quoth she, ‘if I could break this oath,
No doubt I should; but why should I break it?
I suppose it is lawful that in my lust
I should so abhor the theft of thy face.’
‘Why should not I?’ quoth she; ‘if it are lawful,
I would say so, and yet no man would say so!’
Thou wilt get, thou fool; then my trespass will be thy reward;
Thou art a thief that didst pay a ransom:
But thou art not thief enough, that pays the ransom not.
“Now I have said,” quoth she, “I think I may say more;
I have seen thee before, and thought thou dost look.
But now, beholding me, in a dimly-lit room,
Thy eyes are like glowing fire, whereon the cold smoke doth dwell.
What should I say? Too early I was afraid;
Then in the course of my speech did I find
A shadow till now, and now is none.
“How did my horse get on that bridle so fast?
‘I do abhor him,’ quoth she, ‘but I did shun him
If he shall show true character to me in the near.’
Her eyes, too young and too old, did see;
Her lips did, too young and too old, tremble;
‘Thou wilt find the kiss,’ quoth she, ‘appear in my cheeks,
And smile, and seem to wink, at my cheeks,
And say, ‘I love thee more than I ever imagined.
But how shall I kiss thy cheeks in their full glory?
A kiss of thy cheeks, or of thy lips?
To win me back, I’ll have to kiss on the cheek;
When love’s flame dissolves in my tears,
Or like a jade falls from heaven,
Th’ fiery venom disperses everywhere;
His fire cools with the wind, and rain doth boil,
Like rain from a snow-white morn.
To make the worst of it, she doth begin
To scratch his ear with some blunt instrument;
Then ‘gan I tell her ’tis an accident,
That thou didst rob thy maiden face
Of one precious bate, that on thy chin lie.
She thinks him dead; and, beholding him,
Her eyes, burning, and smiling, in her vision;
Her face is warmed, her hair is tied,
And round her back lies a hound;
Like a lamb, that like a lamb trots;
And like a lamb stoops, as if it would find a prey;
But like a lamb stoops still, as if it would find no prey.
‘That sweet angel that hath wrought thee this,’ quoth she,
“shall he not steal another kiss of my life,
For she hath wrought thee all these offences:
She hath done all these to me; and yet thou shalt not have
Those foul thoughts that from thy lips hast crept.
‘”O pardon me


======== CHECKPOINT 042 OUTPUT # 004 ========

Upper, for he was dead;
She in his bed he did lie,
She in his bosom did rest her head;
‘Yet, lo, there shall he remain,
So shall I remain, till thou take him from me.
‘Why dost thou leave me here alone,
Thy eyes, that made thee this world’s babe,
Are in thy chamber a closet to hide;
My hair was the height of high-pitch’d virtue:
No, no more than a silken pail hang’d
Of bristly pearls, that in thy hair
Would hang like a woeful strumpet.
So, thy beauty shall never remain
Unless thou lend me thy life,
And be my ornament when thou shalt have to live.
‘This was my plea to the tyrant king
That he should not be so kind as to give it life.
He was quite right in this, and so was she;
But he that did give it life still did give a second death,
Like fire from a furnace burnt out in night.
‘But that fire which is sweet, yet cannot flay
Into the channel open’d to it find;
As soon as it is closed, the flame
Which burning from the flames cools the body,
With cold disperses it, and cools it again.
So when by the hot-burning pyre the sun
In the eastern sky hath burnt himself out,
To feed his prey with cold air, I will lay:
My thoughts, my words, my music to you,
Will sing hymns of praise to him, and be sung here.
“Well, ah, ah, what a sight it was,
For from the crystal vapour she descended she fell;
Her hair, wrapp’d in a careless puddle,
Shook loose the thread that tied the knot,
And now it must be tied again, and never be tied again.
‘For lo, from the crystal vapour she descended
She fell; her hair, wrapp’d in a careless puddle,
Shook loose the thread that tied the knot,
And now it must be tied again, and never be tied again.
‘Thou art but a man’s-bonnet: what a dame’s soul doth wear!
Till at last she puts on a nun’s face,
And looks on in astonishment; and when she looks again,
She sees a hideous wretch devour whose flesh she lies;
She takes him by the hand, and kisses him on the cheek;
The rich were wont to lend him this thing they owed,
And, lo, they had him not, but as a ransom,
Lending them, but in his own right did kill:
So are their wills to love and loathed be,
To kill the other two, and be never loved again.
‘But what of her beauty in thee didst thou steal?
Thou art the worst of both, lo, and I do believe
That thou wast not the worst of all.’
‘The world hath no such thing as a right to slander,
But foul slander from her eye she hath cast,
And for that slander she doth spend in slander’s sight,
And all that foul creature that by her hand doth spend,
Is for naught but her that doth spend it.
‘”In him, therefore hath Collatine lived,
Who by his blood the fair prince doth spend,
And to his fair blood doth spend the gain;
And thus Collatine lives, and to his fair blood doth spend,
‘The gain,’ quoth he, ‘from me I give thee,
And thou shalt have it for my sake, too.’
‘But be not fond of me,’ quoth she, ‘I will not kill thee,
For if I should, thou wilt kill me alone.
And then shalt thou go and kill me in thine own hand;
Thyself shalt live and then I shall die in thee.&#8217#8217;
‘For where,’ quoth he, ‘in thy self thy self thy self lies,
Myself to thee was to belong,
And thou to my self to thee me subsisted:
And thou to me was to live a part,
Which to thy self and me was to live a part.
Then if thou shouldst desire it, how can I persuade thee,
that it should be so, though in my self
No such self-will can abide?
Or if it should survive, yet remain,
And therein abide the unwill?
But if it should perish, is it not enough?
What can it but abhor that such a thing,
When such a thing as thine,
Like himself to the fire, must burn the earth with thine eye?


======== CHECKPOINT 042 OUTPUT # 005 ========

create all these blessings from thence, that thou mayst see the merit of their due.
‘For why, what of thee, let me say,
If thou wilt, I will tell thy reason:
For what I have, thou art all that I have,
And for that, from me thou mayst draw,
And from me I derive the things thou hast.
O how thy sweet, true, and truest form canst not lie,
What art thou that we scorn, and in that we view,
Thy beauty gives the earth a crown,
Who, for that, is crowned with this good fortune.
‘Thus shall I say, ‘this poor boar grazeth on my knee,
If this be true, my leg is out of speed,
He takes the life from my thigh, to chase him:
To kill himself he ducks, and with him the boar
Tires down the banks of his flaming beseeched foot.
‘If it be true, then thou wilt try,
And bewitch my soul with thy silly story.’
‘O then mayst thou behold the boar,
For fear thereof is neigh’d, and neigh’d so.
O, that thy soul may suspect the night’s foul deeds,
Thy lips the eyes of heaven doth behold thy crime.
O that thy soul may suspect the night’s foul deeds,
And that thy soul may suspect the night’s foul deeds,
Thy lips the eyes of heaven doth behold thy crime.
O, that thy soul may suspect the night’s foul deeds,
Or that thy soul may suspect the night’s foul deeds,
Or that thy soul may suspect the night’s foul deeds,
And thus may I prove thee false, and prove thee good.
What dost thou prove with all these false tongues?
what dost thou prove with all these false eyes?
O, that thou hast the power of thine,
But that thou alone possess’st all these powers!
But what power hath thy hand to do with my verse,
Wherein I draw thee a prey of fear?
O pardon me then, if I might, write a lie,
Like those sad-bemoaned pages which on my cheek lie,
That on their pages I sometime glance on thee,
When thou hast so much as touched with mine eye,
What is thy pity that thou dost hate me with so much,
When I thy shadow did mine likewise abuse,
And yet didst not love me but thou thy shadow dost love me,
And yet didst not love me but thou thy shadow dost love me,
What is thy pity that thou art so bereft of me,
When I my shadow did my body imitate thee,
And yet didst not love me but thou thy shadow dost love me,
Which was thy shadow’s pity still to my eyes,
To whom thou gav’st so much as thy fair face.
O what a sight that creation makes,
Save what beauty hath in it lost, it remains!
And beauty’s beauty is not even attaint,
But as thy beauty willeth not with his beauty,
his image hath as his worth lost,
No, that is what makes him worth lost,
he’s not worth nothing, but lives.
And if the knife toucheth his tender neck,
the dear boy shall soon have lost the day,
For he is dead, and that made his moan no more.
‘”O, my dear boy,” quoth she, “if thou wilt kiss me again,
I would not but scratch the top of your head.
You were a wolf when I was young, now am I a dog,
Hiding in your blood the stain of shameful crime,
That in me you too much shame should read.
‘Therefore shall I die in the ground I lie,
And never again my fair self again to dwell,
That through your blood I toil, till you are rid’d with me,
And die, for you alone I have the privilege.
So may that fair fair flower that blooms in thy field,
Who, like a dew-bedded dove, lies panting in thee;
Her plaintive hand sheaves the wound, till at last she hears,
‘O,’ quoth she, ‘it is raining;’
‘Rain,’ quoth she,’so drop I drop;’
‘Rain,’ quoth she,’so drop I drop;’
‘Rain,’ quoth she,’so drop I drop;’
‘Rain,’ quoth she,’so drop I drop;’
‘Rain,’ quoth she,’so drop I drop;’
‘Rain,’ quoth she,’so drop I drop;’
‘Rain,’ qu


======== CHECKPOINT 043 OUTPUT # 001 ========

Ars the old man that did it serve,
And old man that should live.
‘Why should men’s eyes be blind?
When in heaven are they not seen?
when in hell do they not see?
When in the fair gardens are their fair lights hid?
When in the burning fire burn their holiest flowers hide?
When in the cold-burning hot brine lies done,
Do you not see the fire?—why should my eyes have power
To make those false shadows more bright?
Why should I be silent when my heart desires,
And yet still my heart desires, still shall you see,
Even in the airy puddle that doth sit?
And wherefore dost thou, the heart of my heart,
Save that which thou dost make for love’s use?
In my time do I strive to show thee
And that beauty which thou dost prove,
As to thee in time’s fair creation,
When thou shalt see the day’s glory,
And in that time thou shalt see time’s faults,
And time’s glory shalt be eternity.
Then are they not my enemies to shame,
But rather the world’s good graces, to gain their praise,
That they may speak, and do amend
Fair tongues to men, and fair words to women.
When thou art the sweetest tongue that ever taught,
Who in thought and deed doth praise every thing,
Thou art my love, and I am thy sweet love.
The best I can say is so, and I vow to live,
The one, I’ll be, the other not be.
The poet loves so, and so should the painter be.
What’s more true than ’tis untrue?
What’s worse than a superfluous feast
Won’t his pride to wear out his fame?
His pride to scorn and all his fame to disdain:
So am I, and yet in love, my lust is so great,
And in my boast so is my pride:
How should I then live, and still live to say
I love thee, thy name is in thine,
And in thine my pride thy name is hid.
So shall I live, and yet live in thine,
And in thy pride in thy pride in thine.
So shall the ocean drown and thee drown again,
O most wondrous ocean, thou hast not called,
Since thou art thine, and thy owner still doth call.
‘”How are you so fond of mine, and so fond of mine?
Is it because you did my father steal the day,
When you must be gone and make me return?
If so, is this my fault, and thy fault all;
So am I, and so are thy faults all.”
That poor me the rest by this said,
By this said I saw how much more my heart craves
Than my cheeks, and yet for them their white,
Since their faces in my brain were painted so black.
But to my weeping eye this well-painted tear,
My tears are in glass, and in his eye they fly.
His hand upon that thigh is double-locked,
He holds her head, and she on his thigh.
To put his hand in my breast she strikes him,
And he, to quench his passion, quench her fire,
And kill himself before he drowns.
‘Tis he to whom she speaks; ’tis she; ’tis him, it shall be.’
‘Tis he, she says; ’tis him; ’tis him, it shall be.’
His hand upon hers doth obey;
his lips to mine do obey;
His lips to mine obey me;
Mine eye obeyeth mine heart;
Mine ear obeyeth mine ear:
Mine heart obeyeth mine ear:
Mine ear obeyeth mine heart:
Mine eye obeyeth mine eye; mine heart obeyeth mine heart:
My heart obeyeth mine heart:
My heart obeyeth mine eye; mine eye obeyeth mine heart:
My heart obeyeth mine eye; mine eye obeyeth mine heart:
My heart obeyeth mine eye; mine eye obeyeth mine heart:
My heart obeyeth mine eye; mine eye obeyeth mine heart:
My heart obeyeth mine eye; mine eye obeyeth mine heart:
My heart obeyeth mine eye; mine eye obeyeth mine heart:
My heart obeyeth mine eye; mine eye obeyeth mine heart:
My heart obeyeth mine eye; mine eye obeyeth mine heart:
My heart obeyeth mine eye; mine eye obeyeth mine heart;
My heart obeyeth mine eye; mine eye obeyeth mine heart;
My heart obeyeth mine eye; mine eye obeyeth mine heart;
My heart obeyeth mine eye; mine eye obeyeth mine heart


======== CHECKPOINT 043 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Ages it shall be as a mountain bewitched by the wind;
And all alone in darkness doth pine the day.
Thus shall life, the sweet end that canst not die,
With this life doth make death seem like a journey.
‘This said, Collatine his fair maid,
In the meantime, on the banks of the Muses,
The banks seeming drained, the Philistines rose,
And from the green fountain whereon they lay,
A thousand fountains rise up to the sky,
Which as they fly from the sky, their contents
Seem to overflow the channel below.
‘The painter could not deceive his art;
But as the flood from the heavenly fire
Which in his fresco now encloses
In his pupil the gaudy rose,
So should the painter’s skill be harmed.
For from thy fair eyes the painter lies,
the picture being blackened from my soul.
In that case I will think how to best make thee better.
‘”This day is nigh, and night nigh;
All things are but shadows, and things dimly seen.
In them you have no feature, but nothing:
That makes you better or worse, what you truly are.
“For this reason I would swear I saw a boy,
Saw beauty die and beauty be reprobate:
The flesh would take away, and nothing of beauty:
But beauty do slay, beauty replete,
To nothing but in the endless war of ages.
So that I was thou in this present shadow,
Shall I not in thy fair beauty, like to thee?
And yet thou hast the right, I do wish I had.
‘Now wake up, let me hear thee again.’
Now wake up again, and hear me tell more:
For then I think more upon my own negligence.
This she says, and I hear her speak;
For he replies by beating his beard;
And now the painter, in rage, outstrips her:
To make him answer a harder question:
She replies, and now for that question he shakes;
For he replies by beating his beard;
And now the painter, in rage, outstrips her.
His art is so well known, that his wit
Or even his skill, to the best of his skill,
Will find no respect in our time.
Thou wast my love when I was young, and yet, as I age,
Till now, though I see thee again, yet,
thou shouldst be my love again, and yet not my love:
Thou art my love and my love is dead,
When I will live again in thee.
“This, this, this, this, this,” quoth she, “this, this, this,
I can not write that I have not read thee:
The night will stop the day, and day’s joy shall last.
This he tells her will in his will,
And sometime he intends to take her,
And sometime she intends to lose him.
When this, her eye cannot distinguish,
Her will is not so strong as thou seem’st,
She can’t break her will, but she knows she cannot,
She is bound to obey and obey her Will,
And obey his will till he break,
Then she must swear to him and swear to no one,
That his breaking will be no break,
Even to a stranger that he hath sworn.
‘What will befall her if he break again,
What can hold her back, that she cannot keep,
Or can she still resist but with more strength?
O let her be contented, the heart’s vassal;
But that it is so strongly with me,
Is all my duty, to lend thee this help,
Of mine own free will, to lead thee this harmful night.
If this promise be not enough, how much more shall thy Will?
For how shall my love live but by thy Will?
A thousand vows would have me still free,
And I would leave my beloved alone,
The worst of all evils being fair.
‘That she may say she’s sorry, and be silent,
The better is to persuade her;
Which makes her sad and her joy to the left,
In the worst she may be, which she thinks best.
What is it that makes a man mad,
When his passion is so great, and so rare?
And what makes an unkind act
such a storm to hit an hour?
Is it love that makes so many a fool go wild,
And so many a thousand a day stay at home,
That they seem so far from home again?
No love to love but those that are,
By the power and strength of my Will


======== CHECKPOINT 043 OUTPUT # 003 ========

crus, and I will give thee the best.”
‘Thou art a fool,’ quoth she, ‘and thou shalt not be fool’d in the day.’
“Ay, sweet, and yet thou shalt not be deceived,
For I have seen thee to this end and I am sorry;
So I will not look upon thee like an infant,
Nor say my name despite thy beauty,
I will not kiss thee nor hold thy hair;
I will kiss thee, and kiss thee so,
That I will kiss thy sweet face, and keep thee afar;
Then my soul with my sweet body’s repine,
Will not forsake thee, and will live beside thee;
So thou, my love, and I my love’s repine,
will live beside thee in spite of thy repine.
“Thou art a fool,” quoth he, “and every fair woman will,
Feed thee, and leave him, if she have a heart.”
The painter did not like her so well,
That she did him wrong, and she no better.
But, seeing her scorn and scornful eyes,
She thrusts him down by the neck, and that she doth hold,
He straightly obeys, and they both to the fire.
‘”O false goddess! ah, but what treasure thou hast hid,
But theft, which no man well can steal.
For if thou giv’st to my stolen jewels,
If I lose thee, my love will hold me ransom.
‘Now all these papers that my soul keeps bound,
That keep my verse from thee,
Will write a note in me of my love;
And for this I’ll write a sweet note,
And by this note I promise thy dear love a place.
But since thou art dead, I hold thee to be
my constant guide, to make thee happy again.
‘I’ll kill myself to kill love,’ quoth he,
‘if my poor soul shall dare,
My life shall be thievish, my death wretched,
And my dear soul shall never find a son.’
But what wrong hath he in her sight,
Till, like an angry hawk, with her wings in flight,
She flies, and then, like a dove, her wings fasten’d.
“Look what she did to my face;
The venomous vapours she threw forth,
Her blood was shed in my veins, and her tears hid.
She that did stain my face was no match for my wit,
For to her disgrace my life was stained.
And yet no cause can hide her crime,
She that did stain mine, too, still cannot prove.
‘”Had Collatine not been sent thither to fight,
Or had the fleet-foot captain gone,
Or had he been captain of the fleet-foot’d chase,
Or had he been captain-in-chief of the fleet,
Or had the fleet-foot captain taken away,
Or had the fleet-foot captain been captain-in-
Of the fleet, and all the crew to blame.
So had she for Collatine slain,
And her for him she’d for the lives:
She’d for him the pride and all the fame.
‘And with this she concludes, ‘Had I not, he would not have done it;
So now I see the grave of him,
And with that the thought proceeds, ‘Had he not, he would not have done it.’
His lips, though still red, still did open
When in his hollow choir the choir doth sing,
And by this purl they prove their worth;
And now the curtains are close, and the birds sing:
But, true to his love, he holds the fire and brimeth:
The birds to their sweet melody do sing,
And each part sings to their liking,
But all those parts to the choir doth sing,
And each part to the choir doth sing a new song.
‘Now what excuse,’ quoth she, ‘can any mother give
For her daughter’s wounding or for his father’s wounding?
The world can never forgive her son,
And so I hold her in that guilt,
For that she did not make him come to die.
Look what happies he did steal from me,
And now mine own loss I make mine defence,
To keep the coward heart in my side.
‘”His face with scarlet tears and golden thread
Seems as white as night, as fine as snow;
His lips are platted like snow, his nose like crystal;
His eyes like dials, his lips like coal-black;
His hair like lusty thread, his beard like gold;
His breath like snow-white foam, his lips like fire-black;


======== CHECKPOINT 043 OUTPUT # 004 ========

ro from the Greeks she could not comprehend;
And in her fair cheeks she bears the cross,
Like sweet Venus, to shame the Greeks,
To shame herself for being so despised:
Her passion on that fair face doth burn,
And from the fiery pit that burns so hot,
As from a burning furnace, from forth her flame,
And out of her flame comes the bateless night:
When from out his foul vapour doth sit,
Her cheeks, red as snow, flame up his visage,
Whose hot breath he then doth fill up his glass,
And all smiles confound him, to make him wonder.
When they have said, ‘O, I will not kill thee,
Because thou hast done me wrong, that which thou hast done,
Thy self art thine own, to reprove my self,
Thy self to my self am I condemned.’
‘Thou shalt not kill me,’ quoth he, ‘and thou shalt not kill me,
No, the statute will stop that man’s crime:
No more shall my life, my friend’s life be wasted,
And death in that case shalt be my own torment.
‘O,’ quoth she, ‘this night’s offence is my offence,
My self was once a lover of thee;
And now that I know thee and love thee,
All my world being blown away, I in love with thee,
Being thralled with endless hours of tedious fighting.
‘Gentle boy,’ quoth she,’my heart’s heart’s clerk,
My heart’s storehouse for thy part I keep,
And I have more to give thee, than thou in me.
By this I mightily conclude whether
His heart was mine, or mine;
Either in or out of me my dear love will remain,
Which should make thy love so great a part of me.
And so begins to play with me;
My dear Lucrece is sadly set upon her breast,
And all alike gazeth in grief,
Like wolves which their prey doth chase.
But now she cries, and now it shall be ending,
To see the shame and sorrow of it all.
Her tears, like blood from a casket, stream o’erwhelm’d
To his cheek, and forth again, a swoon:
For shame and disgrace, her tears themselves do bide,
And now she bids them drop like snow-drops, as if from some snow-drop,
Hiding no colour in her tears.
‘Then be gentle, and do not use my tongue,’ quoth she,
‘For shame is too small a thing;
Nor being too small a thing, being too large,
I will not curb thy flood, nor do thou put thy wind in
The way of my verse, although thou wilt have mine.’
When she concludes this said, her sad eyes still
Upon his cheek, as they dreamt of thee,
Whereon their sad ears he falls, as on a pillow,
As if he would quake.
For he, perceiving her distress, braketh her from her bed.
Her lips, so white, his nose against hers,
Show’d in all her silken cheeks, the red colour enclos’d
With white the blood that from his lips reek’d;
And as one should a virgin be, the other his blood,
To wit or skill, or colour, or age.
As one who hath lost, to lose again his place,
To lose all, he will fight with a thousand limbs.
‘O,’ quoth she, ‘it is a common crime in this place,
To rob a man’s wife’s life;
Yet is it not so with thieves and murder’s children?
What heinous crime is it then,
That one cannot rob a man’s wife’s life?
Why not with thieves or murder’s children?
When in their pure innocence did steal their life?
When did the guilty take advantage
Of the bereaved’s fair reproach?
When did the guilty themselves betray
Their woe upon the woe of their crime?
Or when were all those guilty eyes that taught
How to see evil done, and how to see good done?
Or when were all these red lips that red had,
So red as blood in this eye should bleed?
‘Dear friend,’ quoth she, ‘if it may, let it go,
And then every eye seeing it, shall have a look;
Then shall all my friends be red-green,
Each one a pale shadow, and each a pale sight,
Which neither eye nor mind knows is,
Which is but to steal, nor love, nor knower,
Where either is nor loves, but only to steal.’
“My friend,” qu


======== CHECKPOINT 043 OUTPUT # 005 ========

pharm
O, why not her face, or her brow, or her chin,
That in them all would appear white?
For she with her brow, and in it white shine,
If she had none, how should she live with thine?
A man’s nature, by nature too strong,
Is too weak, being weak, being strong bred to fear,
For in his power is so strongly shaken.
A thousand ways in this, this, this, this, this,
For the victors he will fight, and the other he will wither,
And she herself dies as soon as his strength takes her,
When death shall stamp all my earthly rights,
That my earthly garments shall bear my name,
And all my honour to this world’s memory,
And all this for nothing is worth,
But for one last good ending to give me,
From the bottom of my heart I should give him more.
That was my purpose; now I dally,
And do my best to help him achieve his aim,
Or at least stay the blow from which he would clip,
That he may take from me this long night to gaze,
And keep this dream a pure night, to make him happy.
‘Then shall she see that my face is true, and that my brow
And her lovely thought become the subject,
Of which nothing is, nor ever is,
Even to this self what thoughts form my brain,
For it is my will to convert it to pen,
And that pen is this crystal crystal pen:
To make it anew in my soul to write,
Of this the world, my will to convert,
And this in this self I in thought convert,
To make this the world my heart is the better,
And self for me I call your Will.
‘But do not let false thieves in my house,
Shall steal my blood, my life, my wealth, my fame,
And then steal my life’s life and lose all that.
‘Thou wilt not steal, or I shall not steal,
I have lost thee, but I have thee, and thou hast me.
Thou art but a weakling, and a lame woman,
As children are now, that is, to thee.
“That is,” quoth she, “the chief cause of thy sickness;
Thy soul’s fault is thy will, and that is thine,
Thy will’s fault is thy self,
And all thy self thy body in one place.”
He shakes her gently, and with a sad frown
She takes his hand, and he her arms.
So do they, and all my love from thence will fade,
The grave will bear their shadow, and their name.
‘But now,’ quoth she, ‘you tell me, this old boy,
This is what you see in my eyeballs,
These windows to the east of this hell are seen;
You now I saw the shadow in the sky,
And in my eyeballs was this shadow concealed.
O how sweet that daylight can seem!
O how true that love is!
The sun in Paradise is white,
And his shadow in the ocean is red.
No, this my son, this old man,
This old man’s face I did not know,
And never know it still, despite of my eyes!
‘To the west this crow flies that hour,
For this crow flies that hour,
And this crow flies that hour,
So my son for this crow flies his speed,
And to this crow flies the deadly night!
So should I sleep that night as thou sleep’st,
Which is to me the hardest task I must undertake,
For what seems to me so sweet must appear so dark,
Thy glass is full of deceits,
And beauty dead and forgotten,
The dull of day still shines and shines with night.
For me thus night and day are alike,
A pair of pale-fac’d hounds, pale as night’s cheeks,
Who like birds, sing, and do fly;
And now I am dumb, and like birds, do fly,
And make no sound with my continual motion.
‘Tis true that thou canst not see what I am thinking,
But that thy lips (my lips) are disguis’d,
In thy speech, in my words, and in all their parts:
In the course of my speech I measure thy part,
And to this end mine own shows me thee how I measure,
For beauty doth make thee beautiful too,
And beauty doth make thee unappetizing,
That in thy beauty doth thy parts appear:
Beauty doth make thee to myself resemble,
And in that thy beauty doth make me to you resemble.
“If


======== CHECKPOINT 044 OUTPUT # 001 ========

ivari, that is my duty,
So must my good report be kept secret.
I can assure the world that he was not my slave;
It seems he took my life, and then I was slain.
‘”Therefore by him I will live,
And live with thee, by him I will die;
Thy name’s antiquity doth speak of thee;
And now this, thou dost say, the tomb will be
And thou shalt dwell in eternal sleep.
The painter loves to show things moving,
And beauty, in his painting, holds it in great pride;
Yet when it is in decay it is esteemed so,
It is esteemed a second summer’s delight,
And summer’s sweet season is ne’er warm nor dry,
For ever a winter lies, despite of summer’s freezing heat.
But now Adonis, that proud boar,
The sun that doth not see him, or the sky,
Grows to his eyes like a rose that doth bear
Her colourless hue, and yet like a flower it bears:
The sap, which on it doth bear such dank sting,
Is peel’d, and sticks in the bud, and thence proceeds:
To the sweet sap doth it get, and thence proceeds.
I have often heard that the son is a goddess,
And yet have not seen her in action;
And yet no one loves her more than I,
I am old, my dear, and therefore no more,
What shall I say to old Time? I am old now,
And yet I love him more than he did me.
‘O then, my dear, my dear friend,
Have my love-killing instinctive heart,
As thou didst with my father, or with thy mother’s.
‘I,’ quoth she, ‘desire, and seeketh for means;
If that which it seeks I can’t find,
If I cannot find it in my desire,
For it is false and cannot be found,
So to win I must make false love.
So with this I give an account to your wits,
That, like a gentle-pied fool, your wits may know
That my heart is deaf and dumb, and thy thoughts dumb.
So can I, in all my true and true skill,
Have some false learning to impart,
And, like a sluttish skilful, with bad manners:
By this I should say I am old, and die poor;
But I am old and poor, and thou art old,
That is thy dear, and in me is thy liking.
This he answers, with some stern disdain:
Thy eyes, like flaming swords, they will not defend thee;
All that fortify’d is thine, and my soul’s defence.
Her cheeks red, her eyes daff’d pale,
Their lips red, and she hiss wildly.
He throws the knife in her face, and she in him.
“For this purpose hast thou drawn from thy heart,
That thou mayst read the name and characters thereof;
In short thou know’st to call me ‘Herc,’
As ‘hisc’ in Old French ‘bronze’ or’slack’ is used here,
And ‘Hisc’ in Old English ‘bleeding’.
So should thy sweet self in the name of ‘Herc,’
If thou wilt speak and hear them speak.
thou in them hath sent all rigour;
If the strength do me, thou in me must fall.
The wound is deep, it heals only in so deep a wound;
When I have receiv’d the wounding note,
The feeling is faint and deathly,
Then thou art the poet’s muse, and thou must die.
‘For if I live, if thou art dead, my verse dies.
If there be no living breath in thee,
Then all my verse shall survive:
What tongue can speak of dead love is to die,
As it had no name to die,
It was but dead, as such, to die.
For in thee I will live, in thee I die,
In thee I will die, in thee thou must survive.
‘O, what a day! O, what a day!
I did but look upon thy face,
And on the stars, and in the deep dark
I was afraid; but then, lo! I behold the bright moon,
In her dim dim glory, bright with her radiance.
‘But come, let me see thee, dear friend,
With the crystal orb that holds thee in this ill:
O no, mine eye is not the sharp one,
My heart is not the giddy one,
But thou art like a dial, like a bell:
And thou


======== CHECKPOINT 044 OUTPUT # 002 ========

demand’s not so; she hath done my husband wrong; yet that’s not so.”
‘Thou shalt not kill me if thou wilt,’ quoth he, ‘this deed be so cruel; ‘why shouldst thou kill me?—Thou art a wife, a true and lawful wife, and husband, and daughter, and mother, ‘—now excuse me: ’tis a true wife, a true mother, a true and lawful father, and son, and daughter, and daughter’s mother, and son, and daughter’s father, and son, and daughter and daughter’s mother:—Now excuse me, I will not kill thee; but thou shalt kill me by thy hand, and I shall kill thee by thy heart.’
‘Look what thy fault in thy servant did wrong thee,’ quoth she; ‘these men did act in my husband’s best interest.’
‘Then why not thine own self?’ quoth he; ‘why not my son’s mother’s son?—’And why not thy son’s wife?—Then my husband’s worth is in me being thy partner, and mine is not in him being my husband.’
‘And why not my daughter, or my wife, or my child, or my friend?’ quoth she; ‘and why not mine too, my wife too?’
‘Do not say that this is thy will; for I have sworn to thee this oath, and promised it to thee; but if it be false, say so at last; for no false witness can bear the truth, and none will hold the truth either by it being forged or by the time it shall appear;
Therefore the knife hath not cut at love’s breast the knot in my heart;
I will not slay you unless thou wilt swear a thousand feasts of thy love.
And yet I vow a thousand feasts of thy love,
Then do I not love, thou hast no love: but thou wilt love, I will kill thee, and yet thou lov’st not love.
So my love was love to thee, to all fair women.
‘I can see thy pity,’ quoth she; ‘how much happier I should have been forsworn,
Had my love been love to thee; but as forsworn, I know not how.
‘That my love may live to tell the story,’ quoth she, ‘it may be, that your life may be told
Till death’s effect upon thy youth be ended.
For never shall your love be so cruel as this.’
The sun that never doth shine doth burn her city;
But her heat from thence scorches all, and all is done.
‘”If,’ quoth she, ‘I die,’ quoth he, ‘I’ll come back again tomorrow, and you to supper,
And you, young and of good will, to entertain me with my story.’
‘Then be it lawful for me to be woo’d by those,
That shall in my passion be woo’d by many:—
O pardon me, poor poor creature, how much I hate to hear;
Then be it lawful for me, being woo’d by many,
To have false lips, to have false friends,
To have false eyes, and true tongues:—
Oftentimes my lips are the better part, and lips the worse part,
But for that I have the better part, and your whole is
Till then I should change my state to be fairer,
For you, and I, in that change.
For I hate, and I think, to hell it is;
Yet love’s fire and rain on that ground is bare.
Thus far from home I from home,
My dear Love in the heat of battle doth fight,
For in her absence I dally, to kiss her back,
And to kiss her back every where amazes me.
She sighs so, and her heart herses,
But like to the wail she keeps on till it break.
“I love to see her,” quoth she, “and yet there she sits,
And when her lips have bent so, her tears do fly,
The hairs on her face do tend to peel.
When her tears have puddle’d up like water in a brine,
And when her lips have puddle’d up like mud in a brine,
Her tears do tend to rain down on wet grass,
And when her tears have puddle’d up like blood in a river;
When her tears have puddle’d up like mud in a fountain,
Her tears do tend to spill; for woe be’rence, woe is so great.
For woe is so great that woe may wane,
For woe wane thou dost grow; woe wane thou dost grow.
If that thou wilt grow and w


======== CHECKPOINT 044 OUTPUT # 003 ========

202, which makes it the penance of life?
O why, she doth not disdain him,
She takes him for a stranger, and she for a friend.
O that your father may be a painter,
And that his true name may be so well known,
Your mother may be such a devil as she appears,
She may be as proud as a beggar;
She may be as dumb as the world’s most treble-bonded fool,
Her self a devil that can be shunned,
She may well be the fairest of all the gods,
Her beauty so true, so strong,
That the world would swear to it.
What of beauty’s outward semblance did she throw,
Which, like a flower in mud, with her bare foot she pricked,
Like the ripe ripe pomegranate in the spring,
Whose flesh it self incorporate is peel’d from maturity,
Wherein it remains a weed but when fresh,
Doth by the continual touch seem to die and decay.
But as your father did kill himself with his drooping hair,
So shall this mourning day come for thee:
Thou art a living monument to the dead,
Who live, but die, and be buried in thy tomb.
So thou must be thy self, for all time thou art gone,
Thy sweet self this life doth entertain.
‘Tis true, and true a truth in this matter,
Thy shadow’s shadow doth bear this truth:
And like a cherubin it bears this sorrow,
And like a dove it bears this sorrow;
For what’s lodged therein it doth cry,
And where it dwells deep sorrows doth dwell.
For shame’s crest on the Collatine sits,
And pride’s crest on the Collatine lies,
And pride on the Collatine sits;
And here the Collatine sits and stares.
‘The lines of Brutus’ story
In short, they have been drawn in thought,
Which seem’d the pen of sweet words, as their shape told;
And to wit they have begun, to rhyme,
And I their mists to fill, and you to tell,
The map of time, place and shape,
Came in my glass, and it did take
Inwards the thought, which made the thing take in,
And inwards the thought, which made the thing unfold.
‘But now he comes and runs from thence,
For to him I say ‘Kill him now, and I’ll spare thee another,
Unless you stop him from thence.’
‘”Kill him now, kill him now,” quoth she; “kill him now, kill him now!”
If thou dost not then, I am done with thee.
O yes, I am; I will not be rid of thee,
Because thou art not my love; but thou hast but given my love,
To leave the house that thou so deservest.
And then with a heavy sigh she drops her head,
She liv’d on her head, to be forgot.
But I the world will not forget thy death,
for it was mine honour to die beside thee.
No, kill me, kill me soon; but let me know thy love,
And then for that purpose hast I sought:
A widow that lives by thine own death,
For thou art my dear, and therefore of my love,
Love shall not drown me, nor take me away,
Losing me will be but a desperate death,
Thy soft hand, that holds it to mine ear,
Will scratch it so it lands, scratch it so it never lies,
And every groan shall sound it wrong;
Then thou hast ’tis thy last, and ’tis thine.
And when the night is past, if thou still desire
To hunt the day, with thine eye thou dost hunt,
With thy tongue thou canst but speak,
Or like a froward-complexioned wretch,
Crawls for his wound, or wounds for his self.
‘”Gentlemen,” quoth she, “you are as your self to me,
As mine own eyes when I strive for your sight,
As the birds when I preach the good news,
as the berry-sprung plume whereon it grows,
Hast thou thy self in the bud doth flower?
The world hath lost a fair match, let not the boy,
Make thy mark on that fair fair date to wear:
Be contented thou art with my verses,
And I’ll write in thee my verses,
Sweet sounds, dear love, which thy verse should make,
If thy love should doth make thee sad.
That thou shouldst read them all


======== CHECKPOINT 044 OUTPUT # 004 ========

mberg for my part:
So with thy help I might my will live,
And be thy guide when thou motest thy fortune,
And with thee thou’ll keep the world’s spoil from growing:
My love will not lose his sting, and yet he may not get it;
But I him, thy loving handmaid, doth that force.
‘O peace! my love, what a sad and dismal doom!
The world’s chief ill-favourable injury;
The common grave the worst mortal hazard;
Thy health’s a melancholy object to mourn;
Sorrow hath every good thing a grim adjunct,
Yet with your gentle assistance doth my heart rest.
‘O thou hast given us this present, and thou hast taught us so
To leave us this present’s bondage,
That we this present in our minds make the change.
What of that change must I make in thee?
What of that change may I make in thee?
Thy self in thy self-same self doth live?
What of that change may my self make in thee?
The world will look upon that change in thee,
And in it, the devil will frown upon thee.
“Let us look into the matter further,” quoth he, “
And that we may, through this good report,
Inving new grounds for new love,
Finding old grounds for new love’s springing,
With love that in the past thou dost remain,
Love shall never be a common good again:
Therefore may I bequeath thee this good news,
With thine new love to thy old love’s good report:
And that good report in thee is lost,
For thou hast lost that good report,
And all for nought can love revive thee:
Whose side is thine, what dost thou yield?
What dost thou gain by thy deeds so much?
Thy self thou forfeit’ning thy self to decay.
“O how ’twas thy love, thy love’s flower!
And in that flower doth live a beauty,
That hath not in thy self harmed thy self:
But when thou grow’st thine own, how many flowers dost thou have?
When I was young, thou didst play the father,
When thou wast old, thou were my earthly home:
But now I have been your lover’s toy,
And thou art the beauty which ’twas thy father,
And thou art my body’s toy too.
Let the painter draw his own pattern
Of his own self-portrayal, where those wrinkles
Between two shadows doth lie,
To show the false beauty of thy painted face.
Look how that my shadow, as painted by thee,
Will the gaudy turrets of Troy stand,
And every noble air that creeps from thence doth fly,
The clouds will wink and dint and fade,
The sun and moon will not rise,
The world’s rich in silver, and yet doth live!
That I thy image in this fair world needs is well knew,
I have seen thou appear before every eye,
I have seen thy face carved out in stone,
Since time immemorial in thy face.
And yet my verse is so plain
My verse, mine own being told:
For why should you not to your love tell,
Though you in a tongue to others praise me so well,
When I in thee live my love so well,
That your love’s praises in mine eyes are blown away,
O, the world’s fair queen I should so far fall,
For then my loving love to thee would be lost.
‘O night, day and night! what a wretched world it is!
dark labyrinths in the deep hollows of winter!
What dost thou mean by night-killing night?
No, I mean night that hides a deformed devil!
O false thief! (But where thou art not true thief)
How can I then complain that thou didst steal thy breath,
For thou art like to such thieves, that steal thy breath?
Let me not be blameworthy, for my praise
Is not all my praise due to thee alone.
‘Therefore have I chaste been of thy kind,
And by thy fair sun and moon doth stay,
A perpetual wife and child,
Whose due shall never be questioned, nor love reproach,
Or dote on me, nor ask me what my name is.
That was thy fair name, and gave it my all,
To call thee not by that name shall go,
And to be called nothing else by that name.
Thus had she borrowed all her treasure,
And now she hath borrowed more than she should bear,
And she more, she thinks her self more poor,


======== CHECKPOINT 044 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Parish, this is not to excuse thee;
This man was his father, his mother his wife;
He slew her, and now he seeks revenge.
For this murder did he not betray his oath,
For I have seen no signs of kinsmen
Of either sex’s blood, nor bloodless love.
‘To stain with blood the sepulchres of men,
To stain with death the sacred date of days,
To stain with blood the rich wealth of mansions,
To stain with blood the honour and majesty of kings,
And bloodless lust with bloodless lust reigns supreme;
And lust for wealth and wealth for wealth reigns pure;
And therefore not lust for pleasure nor for pleasure
For lust for lust is lust of men:
And therefore not lust for wealth and wealth
For wealth and wealth are lusts of men and women.”
“O, dear friend, you are as straw that bleeds
In your face’s bloodless ointment as straw in my cheek;
O, dear friend, you are as straw in my cheek
As straw in thy bloodless ointment is everywhere;
O, dear friend, you are as straw everywhere else is shed;
This poor life’s waste thou dost throw away:
And here and there thy spirit of filial pride
Lifts up the curtain that blinds the thing thou view’st.
For I was once a virgin and thus die,
Had you as offspring not married to water,
O, what a wretched thing it was!
And yet your image did you recreate,
And it in your beauty, in thy perfection,
In other words, in your nature,
In other words, in mine own nature,
My nature as you were then was new,
And new all, fresh all, is your beauty new,
And that you are no longer alive to love,
I’ll kill myself, kill your false god, and yet you still live,
And yet love you still live, I’ll kill myself again,
If you shall permit it.”
His lips were crimson and he gave them a kiss;
Then they gave each other another kiss,
And the old man fell asleep again;
He seemed to catch her by the neck,
And, bending for his prisoner, struck her on the breast;
Her tears did fall and fell on his cheek;
He lim’d them for his own defence;
The shame was too great, the shame confined;
That shame so much more lodged in one’s mind,
And thus it seemed to say, ‘He is dead, there remains a son.’
So was he done, and left for Lucrece’ sake;
To stay his poor body, whose parts were torn
From him in decay; for this purpose did he pray,
To make sure her eyes and lips, that she might see
The dreadful truth behind the bloody knife.
‘So shall he be king,’ quoth he, ‘nor I his subjects:
He is gone, and shall never return;
So shall I be queen of this fair city,
And doting sister of yours.’
‘Why hast thou not asked her, daughter of thy love?
she looks on us as unkind,
Hateful that thou didst break the seal of trust;
‘Tis true, but I do abhor such dishonesty,
And yet thou didst mend the seal of trust,
That thou mightst break the world’s seal by this deed.’
‘What was the matter?’ ‘That thou shouldst leave me
Though I thy self be absent? what did I say
To spite thee, and to prevent thy flight?
Thy honour, thy whole being, thy whole being
All these in one, in one being so gone,
You can live and die by that, for that,
If you live long, you die with me.
The lily doth flower, and hisses, and hues pale,
And he, sweating with fear, shakes his head,
And all alike, exclaims aloud, ‘O, kill me!’
“Fie,” she says, “fie, what a fool thou wast!”
But when he says ‘fie,’ the woman replies,
‘O, oh lo, lo, it is an old-fashioned cry,
And old favourites are blunted;
Thy lips and thy teeth may be tame;
I do not hate thee for that;
I do not hate thee that I do hate thee.’
“Fie,” quoth she, “it would not have been so,
But thou art fair, and all things beautiful.
For beauty is thine, and beauty thine alone,
And thou, beauty’s child, shall never die;
The world to thee, and thy beauty alone
Have thine in common, in thine


======== CHECKPOINT 045 OUTPUT # 001 ========

viz, I have no love but to love thee,
And in that I list thee, I have no love but to hate thee,
I do not regard thy worth to mine eyes,
But then I have no love but to hate thee,
That I do regard thy beauty to mine eyes,
And in that I do regard thine, I have no love but to hate thee,
Yet in that I do regard thy worth to mine eyes,
And in that I do regard thy beauty to mine eyes,
And in that I do regard thine, I have no love but to hate thee,
I never have wished to see a nun die,
And now all too soon I must return to my bed.
‘And here she meets a platted pion,
With pale ornaments on it,
That seem to show the dead in the living.
What beauty lies concealed is as plain as day,
Which no shadow shows, nor no shape can convey.
So therefore she takes the pion, and feeds it on,
Whereat the pion whips round, like crystals,
Whilst the spirit feeds still on the vapours in the brine,
To drink the distilled breath that through the brine
Heavily doth lend his aid to replenish;
And as the spirit feeds, yet ’tis weak,
No man can take his part, nor part his spirit,
Nor part nor part nor part neither is in the same
Of several things, and is assailed as idolatry,
And idolatry (all men make idolatry of thieves)
As all fools make idolatry of fools,
And that which is taught in childish schools
May well be termed idolatry,
To make us all like one another,
For one our love, one another our folly.
She throws on the mantle of thine,
Lifts her head, and neighs, and throws her eyes about,
Whose mouths the air, filled with vapours, doth swallow,
Like a coal-black ocean whose colour doth hide,
Whose vapours thence disperses like mist in the brine,
Whereon the vapours thence seem to boil,
To boil the pure water of the brine,
With such hot ashes as her body would burn,
That her breath, in it, would dissolve,
If it ever return again to water?
Is it jealousy, to see that your heart doth call
A pilgrimage from thy self to me,
To do me honour, that I call pilgrimage?
Or is it that in thy deeds shows grace,
To invite in my self grace that grace so rich?
I love you in secret, and in secret I love thee,
That all this toil away, and nothing of you,
is there to love, but to delight.
He looks upon her in his pale-fac’d eye,
Like to anon he stares at her still,
Drawn from forth his bosom, through her nostrils,
Who now are suck’d up and down in his mighty bow;
He dotes on her like an unripe deer,
When nature gave thee pleasure and sorrow,
To love, thou must yield, sweet lord.
Love in this, that and all the rest.
This said, his hand, like a falchion,
Doth stop the wind that bloweth from his wings;
Which on his golden chin doth hang a sceptre,
Or from his long-sack’d hat, as it doth hang from his eyne,
A thousand favours from heaven pay’d.
What else hath thy power but to call it thy due,
That thou mayst live a son to a pure mother?
Or that thou mayst live thine own son and thine own daughter,
But no man hath the right to use thee in this cruel,
Which thou shalt by law make an end of every year.
That thou wilt live to be buried in thy husband,
Or else be buried with him as your son,
Or else be buried in thy husband’s memory.
In either case he shall live, and thou wilt never be.
‘”His scarlet hair doth cover his face,
His pale, jet-black downy eyes do cover his cheeks,
His short, pale, straight, and jet-black tail,
With red and white, do cover his lips, his nose,
His soft, round, and quite round ears;
And low he stoops, still on that downward curve,
To look upon the wind that blows at his head,
And hear the rustling of his woeful cries.
“My tongue,” quoth she, “do not teach it to thee,
Unless thou wilt remove my lips’ painted bark,


======== CHECKPOINT 045 OUTPUT # 002 ========

executions from their mouths?
Their faces, that sweet smell that they possess,
Are so familiar, so flattering,
That they fear not the touch;
Their lips, which to your salving eyes fill,
Breathe forth your sweet breath, that with blood might breathe.
“The diamond, with ten thyself’s strength
Hath carved a precious date from a puddle,
Which thou shalt cipher for twenty years.
‘Gentle maid,’ quoth she, ‘you did summon me hither,
To take my letter and to affright me.
Have of mine a feeling affection to show,
Towards which I may aspire;
For that purpose thou dost strive to gain,
For I am thy self, and thou dost strive
To set the perfection of my art,
To set the sweetest and fairest age
Upon the earth, and to destroy all things short.
‘But when Opportunity comes, I will strike him with a hammer,
And in his pride will stamp the day
With my blunt sword, till Opportunity is slain.
‘Why should I then have strength to stand by my friend,
when Opportunity is not slain?
when Opportunity looks on Opportunity,
Will he frown at me when he sees Opportunity frown,
And smile as if at death he were my friend?
When Opportunity smiles at me when he sees Opportunity laugh,
The lips of Opportunity, as they did him shame,
Are lips in hell, lips in paradise;
And all things holy, by heaven’s eyes, are made sweet,
When Opportunity smiles at me when he loves me,
The tongue replies, ‘Thy eyes have seen what I have not.’
And the one true heart that loves no form,
Is asperg’d with all evil therein;
Which, by his hateful abuse, can no fair forgive:
But as his foul abuse with loving eyes,
To love all, all love’s fair parts to give,
That to himself alone, to none else,
Shall base and unjust, enrich all their parts.
Which, being painted with her own hand,
In rich filching, makes them white,
And looks like so much wealth in her eye.
This image was used for Sinon’s charmed show
By Ajax, and Tarquin’s son;
They both took their seat in the saddle,
And Ajax did the rest, the one fell,
And the other the prize.
‘Poor fool,’ quoth she, ‘now my image appears,
And from my sight it may appear,
Whose eye it self from forth a blasting fire doth droop,
Which on that burning iron doth enclose
Thin globular bulge which gives life to every tear,
Whose blood being boil’d on that fire, gives life to every tear;
And by this fire, a bloodless flame
Appalls all who in it encounter it.
In this ecstasy all the powers of nature
Under the sway of their influence did fly,
And from thence did fly away all their grace,
That all by themselves their judgment had done.
O who with her beauty didst thou invert?
For when thou shalt see her frown, turn back,
Or let her tears drop like drops of rain;
What dost thou art that dost smile and laugh?
Or give them tears, that they do shed?
Let them have no tears in mine eye,
O give them a tear in my heart, I will bear
That which I do not hate, but you must hate.
‘I’ll burn you alive in my bed,
Or kill you alive in my bed-wand,
Or kill you alive in my bed-wand,
Or kill you alive in my bed-wand,
Or kill you alive in my bed,
Or kill you alive in my bed-wand.
‘And for a thousand favours do I smother,
Of blood, or of feathers, or of silvered ivory,
Whilst I in thee am bereft, thou art all mine,
For in me thou dost hang the feather.
Thus do I vow to my love,
That never to forget thee live nor know thy end,
Unless thou help me make one anew born.
To that purpose doth I begin a rhyme;
Who by this fair work doth invent a rhyme;
Of those fair gems doth my praise live,
Which doth not survive my fair name to write,
To make a poet of thee, to me thou art.
Let me then tell thee of mine own blessed birth,
Whereon my love in thee doth stand and live,
And where doth thy love live, and where thou art in me.
‘Yet may I hope that love, in thee, shall ever live,
And


======== CHECKPOINT 045 OUTPUT # 003 ========

stanbul.
No, no.
No, my love was not born of desire,
Nor could it have been
If from the time I was born a man of sense,
Or if any such thing ever shames me,
I must look upon it with more suspicion,
Because it doth not fit the picture I call,
And therefore with more disgraceful looks doth it grow,
To bear new blood in new sins?
Or if those fresh eyes that by thee grow
Shall gage thy self a more holy dispensation,
The sickly blood thenceforth to thee bequeath’d,
Showing me not by my deeds but by thy life.
‘O gracious God, if thou art the one true God,
And only good, and true in thy self,
And even so love did seem to dissolve,
And do away with the picture that doth lie,
To my shadow doth live and in me remain,
To the shadow doth live and in me remain.
That I am buried, thy picture here remains,
But as thy picture now remains, so shall my picture go.
But as thy picture cannot be buried alive,
nor your image can be forgot,
Nor your self (being self-same)
be forgot for ever.
‘But thou who art the grecian and all-breeding flower,
Till you taste it is sweet, but it is bitter,
Thine, and nothing else but sweetness remains,
Sweet food to thine eyes, sweet drink to thy lips,
Sweet smell to your sweet senses, sweet taste to sweet smell,
Shall every tongue taste with thy sweet odour bequeath?
But why should I then beauteous bequeath
To one, that can’t change his taste,
Or one, that loves so much, with thine own taste,
To one, that doth so despise thee,
To one, I have one, and none else,
To kiss, no kissing being pleas’d there,
Is love so sweet it is self-will’s only delight.”
My dear Muse, do not so much as blush,
Tear thy lovely eyelids; for fear of injury,
I’ll wipe them all away with a blush;
My dear Muse, do not so much as blush,
Tear thy lovely eyelids; for fear of injury,
I’ll wipe them all away with a blush.
The lily he would not scratch,
Nor the rose she would not flower,
She would not breath, she would not love, she would not love;
She would cry, ‘O comfort, my dear, my dear,’
‘My love, my love!’ quoth she;’my love I’ll scratch;
And scratch at him with my knife, and then kill him with my spear;
And do not let my love be confounded with thine;
Nor let my love be a hind, a hind to gain,
My love be a hind to gain, my love be confounded with thee.
Let me assure you my love was not stolen;
For that I stole, and thou art not mine,
Thy honour will thy death prevent.
“O pardon me, ah! the clock is past four,
And all my quiet hath ended.
Let me confess to be false my dear friend,
When I have some kind of report,
I will make my defence more sharp;
And in the morning, to-morrow tell lies,
Thing like a sad-tun’d man:—
Who, feeling pity, with red lips,
Shiver’d the cheeks of his fair cheeks,
And set on a course so sad!
‘Thou mak’st the time sweet and long,
If I cannot be mad with all my might,
By my deeds thou hast done me wrong;
O, do not excuse me, for I am not mad:
But be true, thou art my muse, and I will write:
Thou art the true love, and this is not my will:
And when thou art, the painting of love,
Thou canst not live again till I die.”
Yet when they had asked her how he did,
She advisedly replied that he had begun
To talk to her, to get her by the arm;
And when he, too early, had begun,
As soon as she could speak, the white was blown away,
And on she fell, whereupon he, being tied,
With a chain-mail-like device did thrust,
He thrusts his sword in her vale, and falls, whereupon she cries
Whose hollowal womb resounds like unto the night,
Whose piercing shrieks do throng the dark chamber,
When each by him hearing do so dread,
D


======== CHECKPOINT 045 OUTPUT # 004 ========

ameda’s blood, the tender blood of the sweetest of all,—in other words, his worthiness is to me to be found in nothing, but to be his delight, his delight is to be.
‘So oft hath he gone by day, and night by night by night;
As oft as night he stayth on his horse,
His weary woes upon the ground,
His weary labour in the dark;
He never leaves a cave, though his light
Shall consume his light with wasteful hours.”
I think my love is as wise and kind as thou art,
As thou shalt see in the fair gardens set,
Which have a blossoming bud in the bud,
And in the spring the galled jade doth thrive,
In the winter doth summer decay.
‘Yet,’ quoth she,’such was thy youth,
That he should seem old, to my ears delighted;
For why should my youth complain of such an age?
How canst thou compare to a beggar,
whose wealth she buys from abroad,
And makes her neighbours pay more than she lends?
Or why should my youth complain of beggars’ stories,
Whose stories sell themselves like fair gems in Greece?
or his beauty, with which she admir’d
The scars of battle, the scars of battle’s scars,
Whose scars in my soul are like those in your eyes.
‘My love is love to none but of friends,
I trust, but I do swear, thou lov’st me;
My love is not my love, nor may it be
Thy self, but my love’s defect is thine.
The sooner thy soul doth see this,
The sooner thy love doth think this,
The sooner thy love doth think this thy friend.
‘But what of thy love doth this love undertake?
What is thy love but a jade?
I have no such thing, but one that grows on thy brow,
Hath beauty in thy brow thy beauty’s spring,
And beauty in thy brow thy beauty’s date,
So beauty doth beauty live, beauty die.”
But what of her love doth she undertake?
Which love doth so live a love in scorn?
For where love doth live she dies, and beauty is liv’d;
If beauty live, beauty die, and beauty be liv’d,
She forlornly doth plead that she loves no more,
Than she forlorn that she may have a daughter free.
The time hath come when thou shalt not delight
with my love, but with all my foes.
O yes, I loved him all; I did hate him not.
So shall I be revenged on thee,
With a happy death, and a hell no hope of cure.
‘”Look, what a fright it must have felt
That my guilty heart should cry in her pain,
To have such a punishment, by thy side?
I will not relent, nor leave the lawful place,
That thou mayst not reprehend my trespass,
Nor ever detain thy wrong with a kiss,
But by my side shall repose no excuses:
Such an honour to me, for Collatine,
To thee shalt all honour be,
If thou do my guilty wish violate.
“And for thy sake,” quoth he, “this night I will leave
The night, and swear it to thee,
And spend the rest in thought and deed.
Look, in the stars thy constellations line,
What virtue doth in thy breath shine,
What doth thy breath decay, what beauty doth change.
These lines they make to thee, which thou dost draw,
And to thy self thus set my heart adrift,
Whilst thou art the star that doth all other shine,
O, what beauty dost thou thy breath deface,
that I for my life can see,
And no shadow can stop my sin from obtaining thee.
What am I when life is death, and death no more?
When life is freedom and freedom perpetual?
when life is death and death no more?
When life is freedom and freedom perpetual?
When life is freedom and freedom perpetual?
And what is life when freedom is absence?
When life is freedom and freedom perpetual?
And what life is when freedom is absence?
And what life is when freedom is absence?
And what life is when freedom is absence?
And what life is when freedom is absence?
And what life is when freedom is absence?
And what life is when freedom is absence?
And what life is that which is not kept
When nature herself is kept from releasing her offspring?
Or when nature herself is kept from releasing her offspring?
For why should nature’s offspring be kept
From


======== CHECKPOINT 045 OUTPUT # 005 ========

steered the ragged time.
She sigh’d and whetted her heart;
She put her lips on his lips, and each other’s,
And, as she did so, his were full.
“What a hell of witchcraft was she in!
Shall foul tricks of foul craft lurk in thine eyes?
If any, let thy might abide no more;
Thy fair might, though foul stain be so green,
For there is no fairer test for such a fall.”
She kissed him, and he, in turn, on the lips.
“Lo here I was, Collatine’s friend;
In his shady car he sat,
In rude ignorance, the painter was naught;
But now he came and sat down beside,
Came again, and sat down beside again.
Here Adonis sits, and he doth sit,
Look at his dead friend that sleeps,
Who by heaven did not so wake him.
‘”And when I told her I would not kill,
Thy beauty fled, and life fled again,
And beauty’s fled and life were liv’d in thee.
O that thy sin may be shown not in thy days,
Thy guilty shame can never be put into thy face:
Thy sin in thy guilty guilty years should ever stand,
And even in thy guilty years thou shalt never be free.”
“Thou cannot make amends to wrong me,
No, I assure you, I am not mad.”
‘”What of that, my friend?”
O pardon me then I may say,
I have but one desire, one desire of woe:
And that desire is desire of self-love,
That I toil with my self, and then with my foe,
With this in me did my self grow,
Which then, I suspecting still, is the time,
Of all my restings, which is this beauty dead?
And if thou wilt give me grace to excuse,
I’ll tell thee what I do, and he will know
Who is my self and that part of me
Which doth play such a part in thee.
My self as thou art, my self in thee,
Sith that thou in me, thy self in thy me.
But then the verse says, ‘Thou in me’
I am thy self and in thee,
And in both, thou dost in me’self doth live’.
‘Poor soul,’ quoth she,’my part is in thee,
I should be thee, my part in thee,
And in thee was my body, but in thee was thine,
thou didst give the world to my body,
For that body in me now doth live,
thou gave that body thine, and in me thy.
‘Tis not enough, then, that thou give’st thyself a head,
That thou lov’st the whole, and that thou all’st is found.
‘But do not say I did not,’ quoth she,
‘The book of life did give thee thine;
A present worth of praise and favour did lend thee;
But if that present belong’d to thy self,
then his beauty shall in no sense live,
And nothing will in it may live again.
‘But what of this, my friend, how fair is this?
Let the fair herald thy name appear,
Let the giddy pioner my picture live,
Let every flower in thy bounty be green,
Where all my graces, all thy blessings belong.
Let all thy beauties whose blossoms do cover
all that he hath that doth live.
I must not let that sour tongue in,
Thy graces dispense with all sweetness.
‘I do, and shall bear it to thee in spite.
By this he crosses the threshold of the brook,
When in his golden chain his high hand rest’d,
To kiss the sweet lord of his high estate,
who in honour doth he bow.
For why then the sweetest man doth abide here,
For who would give so fair a fair offer
To such a wretch as he would render such a fool?
For he that obeys this king doth lie,
he will not, nor none else will, dare kill him.
But if it be true, his will will he overrul’d,
And kill’d her husband, and set her in servile night.
‘Why dost thou give my life to tempt fate?
Or make the unkillable death of a child
In the line of succession of thy surviving lovers?
To steal from my self a potential life,
Give all life to the child that was born anew?
But if my death were immortal, thy beauty


======== CHECKPOINT 046 OUTPUT # 001 ========

nesty that we may be, are but shallow adjuncts to our praise.
And yet our praise of him is a thousand things.
Look, here’s a nice, plump, short-jointed little hound,
What ungainly objects are there,
that the world can see but by thy eye.
How can the world, that is thy seat,
When that poor unloose frame can with a blow,
Have thy self, thy self again set free?
But that self hath nothing in thee,
That nothing can make him part,
What may but be a part of thee,
The world could with greater beauty see what he was,
He was nothing, in thee nothing he was:
But now he is all that, and in thy lot he is.
How can my love make him a part of me,
For that is my love and him I part?
Thy pity, my sweet love’s fair grief’s fair cost is:
And thou dost give the fair a part in my grief.
For in thy thought’s thought’s thought thy self thou art,
Thy self I’ll pity, my self thou dost spare,
Yield thy pity to his fair will.
Thou mayst for sure return and be fair,
To the gaudy day in his fair fair fair,
When no fairer yet is but free to pass,
For through a gilded gate a king lies.
This he did with a little diligence,
Which, by the tender enforcement
His gentle hands in quickening their pace yield,
So quickly doth he turn and leave his way,
That his rider seems to him to follow him:
The poor hound obeys, and so
The lion takes up his hind legs, and with him goes.
‘”What shall I say? ‘”Well, good night, good day,”
“Good night,” quoth she; “this is good night.”
“Fie, fond love, fond fear, false ambition,
Grief will not laugh with me when I am gone.
Yet are some with greater courage gone:
What treasure thou dost bring back in thy face,
When in it thou art full dearer still,
Than the weightless contents thou vassalise.
The day’s task is to persuade me to attend thee,
Then to myself I’ll entertain his show,
To see him with my poor daughter, and then he takes
The thing he sought, by conquest gave;
For when in doubt he willeth, he plucketh
The thing he sought, and there his will take.
Then to myself I’ll bow before my reason,
And to the general conscience hold the plea,
The worst is best, the worst is best both.”
The boy that did her proud defy slay,
She was her own mother, and her own god;
But when she saw the disgrace in her husband’s eye,
he thought her love were dead; and now she
For his use takes place in the heart’s delight.
‘”That thy Grace might stain thy record,
With a gloss like that of his own blood,
That thy picture should not be despised,
Or be so heavily profaned in print,
That posterity might more aptly call it,
‘Thy face is thine own, thy heart thy self;
For by thy self thy self art glorified,
And thou self worth’st so much to all men.”
‘”Thou unused slave, for whose good will will do me harm,
Under an antique knife’s dull hasty scythe,
Whose sharp knife wounds at every vein,
And never once plungeth into an infected spot:
Thy love, therefore, to hear my argument is,
Thine own fair, to be suborned to thy will.
‘Thus in a pure state she looks to scorn him;
As in a pure state the world doth disdain her,
When beauty doth stain so black a place.
She that hears him speak, takes heed,
He in her thoughts doth comment and she in tears.
‘I never saw thou on this face nor
Witness my sinful looks to others.
‘So was I, as thou fled thence,
And by the hand of nature had suborned thee,
As from a virgin womb to a man,
Or to any fair yielding herb,
Thy sweet smell to that sweet odour bequeath.
‘And whilesth I in my ecstasy do behold,
When I in ecstasy do comprehend
Thy face’s force with the shifting of thy breath,
The thought doth on that side conclude,
And my will in that side undertake:
“O yes,” quoth she, “though thou art dead,
My will be


======== CHECKPOINT 046 OUTPUT # 002 ========

visitor and in her own honour she did hold the key.
‘”In vain,’ quoth she, ‘hast thou not sought, I have no appetite,
And never shall be thy friend?
If you desire, be kind to me, and if you do find,
Then be kind and find no desire of me,
But be kind and live in desire of my self.
‘Then be kind as ever, and do not be fond
Of words, if they ever will hold you in sway.
Then be kind as ever, and live in love of my self:
I will be thy love, and thou shalt be thy love’s guide;
Love’s golden hair, long and light,
A pearl which shall in time wear out,
Thy beauty’s breath must expiate.
‘Then be kind as ever and live in love of my self,
As thou wast thy self and thine self shalt live,
And die, thy self in thy self shalt live.”
“How then?” quoth he, “if life, that which thou hast,
I will not live, because thou art dead,
And life, that is life, dies with thee.
And this shall thy life in life depend,
That thou wast not born, is life-killing.”
“Then be kind,” quoth she, “and live in my self,
as thou art thy self, so with me.
When life is done, there shall be no more pain
My body, so to speak, is done away.
‘But be kind as ever and live in love of my self,
A thousand favours from your fair store bequeathed
To your happy-purchased hand, hand, or foot.
“Good night, friends,” he says, “if my heart were told
The contents of my hand, that is to say,
the turtle, the wolf, the boar, the hebrine, the eel,
How will you like them all, to see them in your nights,
And in my sweet imagination did you draw
When you in dreams you must dream them, when you dream words,
From your sleep do you dream on my face,
When you in dreams imagine all these shapes in your eyes,
And on my face do you make your judgement;
For I never sleep, nor think my heart wrong,
But do my thoughts make me weep, my tears being wet.
For when you in dreams, why then do I wake
And then say, ‘I never sleep that night before,’
When in my heart you in dreams do think this
I hope thou thy love, and not mine own,
By thy fair fair show to praise thy fair show,
Of whom thou in fair shows must judge,
Where fairest creatures stand, and where best to make thee stand:
But thou in this fair fair fair show shouldst not stand,
For thou lov’st not the fair, nor thy fair self,
For in thy fair self thou lov’st not the fair,
Fair self, self worth, self esteem’s charter
Is wasted with all these; and, behold,
With little beauty, with great beauty falls.
For, to the blackness of that blackness,
Love stains the picture, with it hate’s stain,
For beauty’s stain is so much better,
Which is so much better still, that I hate to stain,
Which like a black-fac’d coward I do repent,
And take a deep breath, as one that weeps,
While listening ears wail our woes, while our eyes weep,
And dost thou in the act of weeping lie,
That all our sins seem unto thee with weeping:
But thou in thy self wilt bleed, and in thy self wilt
bleed, and in thy self wilt thou wilt
Make my body bleed as thou lov’st, and in mine do
bleed on, and die in my self.
‘When I have read many good books, many of them true,
And by and by behold these fair beauties
With painted truth and nice style well known
The like of which the world may perceive,
To see your self in all things strange,
To see in me all your errors,
To see what you think in my good works,
To know what you think in my bad works,
And what you think in my good books,
To know what you think in my bad works,
And what you think in my good books,
And what you think in my good works,
you do not love where you must be.
What you do love is but where you are.
For where you are you are made of nothing.
So that your absence from me should in any way affect
Your beauty, not yours, I must your help,
To make


======== CHECKPOINT 046 OUTPUT # 003 ========

intervened-betrayal-witness, slanderous, or traitor,
Or that by his unapproved name he hath been scorned.
So are you that when I in your name did write,
You in the Old and New Testaments,
Called your witness to the new’s judgment.
Who is not acquainted with the style and scope
Of rhetoric and of the times,
In all parts of the Roman world,
Threw their eloquence and reason in hand,
To make the mind of men more dumb,
Force them to be ignorant of their words,
Then to themselves with their decrepit examples grew,
As fools themselves at first thought dumb.
“When in his course of will he make discovery
Who can answer him in a certain matter,
or give him force to say “Well, thou shalt see”,
Or he will comment upon his wits,
Or suggest him to entertain an ill night,
That hath the power to make him dally,
For when his will doth bow, he sets his aim,
And to his aim his will chides the foe.
When in the hope of some greater gain,
Or gain where none, but a fair end,
can physic me that you, as I breathe,
To recite the reasons that govern
All my happy events and to varying accidents?
The more you me, the more I strive,
And to your greater good I my list grow.
If thou permit my love to grow old,
For it to-morrow is come, and my grace die,
To-morrow’s pleasure, my grief and hell
Will live for thee alone in your sight.
So, quoth she, thou wilt wilt take away,
Thy beauty, thy pride, thy shame’s strength,
Thy worth’s whole is but to rob thee of it;
For that it needs should rob thee of more,
Than thou shalt rob thy poor treasure of it.
“Why hast’t I heard the captain tell them it
Of the time it hath cost me nothing;
And to have them questioned so inordinate
Is as being forbidden in me as in thee;
And why not in their captain, in thee it is welcome?
For, like a bad precedent, all things right abide,
Thou art as good as thine; but that thy fair
Being as bad in good, doth in itself commend.
“The old oak fell, that hath power to tear it,
And every ripe drop hath stain’d and gone.
‘O, what a hell of witchcraft lies in me!
No blot upon her face is she new-blest,
though the stalk have blackened with age,
Or wrinkle-tongu’d in spots with heavy wear.
This heaps scorn upon her face with black disdain,
Saying that she might as yet be white;
Yet in a sort of disdain she smiles, and bids him go
The straight, and only way.
But, alas! Too late, the crooked time hath past;
And for that offence there is no redress;
Her tears are reinv’d in her cheeks,
And now to the time when her husband once stood,
Her tears have emptied their cisterns into her eyes.
‘”I will not remove, nor leave you here alone,”
“My love, my love,” quoth she, “this knife hath no pleasure,
Mine is a blasting heart, and mine is a blasting ear:
Let me make a truce, where you will,
I’ll bow before my self, and then bow before thy face,
And then I’ll thrust my knife in their faces’ faces’ ears;
But you can never be too keen, being too slow,
For fear of seeming blunter, I’ll be gentle,
And when you are gentle, be bold too.
But that shall be the fault of your verse;
The thing that will do your wound most,
Is not your poor verse, but my love, and I the painter.’
This old lady’s maiden name is Lucrece,
And to my mistress Tarquin she encloses;
For to her mistress Lucrece she lends a kiss,
And for that sweet sweet kiss beauteous kiss she doth lend
To me this dear love, now for my sake.
I will be a kind of tutor to Lucrece,
And I’ll teach her how to make new friends
To me that she herself in others’ eyes,
To know when to turn to good and when not to good.
‘Thou lov’st those that are, and they thy enemies;
When beauty is subdued, thou art not so sweet,
And yet thou art not so sweet,
I have heard of a love-killing boar,
Which doth stand and fly


======== CHECKPOINT 046 OUTPUT # 004 ========

restrooms, and all in haste,
To get the sweetest parcels which the world can afford.
So in this desperate chase, from the field of view,
He doth fall, and still on the way
Doth make the swift pursuit, to be gone,
To take his weary horse, his weary mother’s,
And then to be outstripped again,
To leave the race and run away again.
‘”In vain, O comfort, I will attend this poor devil
With excuses, and yet shall not rise,
To show thy face in her happy tomb.
The rich shall suffer, the poor shall be free.”
‘Tis the time to blush, for love’s worth we boast,
That we boast of this rich conquest.
O well I will not boast of my beauty,
Nor proud of my wealth, nor my fame,
My wonted skill, nor my outward grace,
Or my outward modesty,
Could not he make such robbery upon the fair,
By striking at my brow with his foot’d spear?
And to the robbery yield, to make my breast come
Thine own eye a mask to hide thy fair.
She looks, as a curious beholder,
Bids her not to look, but to stop her breath;
She puts on a frown, and thence follows
A desperate look, and there she stops again,
Who, by some strange influence, having seen
A woman naked, now her looks are
The worse for grief, her face the greater:
But the more so we in Lucrece find,
Those in excess of our sorrow blush,
To make that fairer shade look worse,
More white, and therefore look better on you.
I hate to be so kind, and yet you are
The one, and the other to be.
The one, and the other to be.
So is the thing that makes me love you the most;
The other is love, and I in love with you find.
‘But why do I pine for you so strongly,
That I should say so oft, and still say so,
Then thou wilt keep quiet for mine eyes to see?
No, I would say ‘You must be, for the stars are watchful.’
‘That I saw thee,’ quoth she, ‘your face in mine eye;
How can they not say that I am new-waxen and wiry,
Since I did see thee when thou art old and red,
Or when I was fresh and dead and bare,
Or when thou shouldst revolt and revolt again,
Thy cheeks thus shall no man tell thee mine:
For if thou wilt, that I in thy days will behold,
I think a devil in thy sweet bending reign,
That by thy sin thou dost deceive, I will kill thee;
That thou dost reword my verse, in thy heart.
When thou shalt review this, be reconciled,
To thy love, to love’s love’s love, be reconciled,
To that love being new-fired,
So shall this love be, till thine, which in thee remains,
The world is forgot, and all is black.”
And he in his cabin cries: “My son! my son!”
“My son!” cries the old maid;
Her voice shakes, and her eyes, dimly dimmed,
Shape the dreadful scene in her head:
And from her dim cell some sound device enters,
Which, from within her hearing field, in hearing
ensures a kind of fright; and then the wolf begins,
With white, and so the story ends:
And in that fearful fearful distance doth lie
The coward, the brave, and all the others.
To hear them speak, each one to the contrary,
To say, or to do, in their wills,
Thy wills were my will, that I thee directed,
Of my good name, and thy good will’s will being done.
So love is sweet, and it is so esteemed,
That in it thou lov’st not stain’d, or thou lov’st stain’d
The grave of thy self, or that which thou livest buried,
Thy worth’s perfection in thy self,
Or at thy self thy self’s death, thy self die,
Or thy self’s self live, thy self is new born,
And thou shalt live in thine own self’s flower.”
And as she this time ne’er had bathed his eyne,
With tears, but unwholesome, his eyne did cover;
Her nails do peel their white and hang almost beside them;
But in his burning city-house, where summer is held,
The sun doth not shine, nor his shining clouds cover;
Nor heaven to earth nor water but rain


======== CHECKPOINT 046 OUTPUT # 005 ========

170 that this world may behold,
And see his beauty grow, and die of want.
What then are you that thinks on me now,
Not that you saw me on the field of view,
Not that you wink at me in my place,
But that you have observed my course and seen
My crooked beauty grow, and die of want.
Look where I am now, all alone, and your picture,
For my shame hath thy shame done to me.
‘”Now thus begins to unfold my evil;
‘Twas not long since the very creation,
My will, which for my goodly deed sought
Doth but bear my doom, and it is my will,
To lead a sinful life to death,
To kill myself, and all my loved one,
By hanging my life in the least chance of obtaining.
To live by thine own self’s stealing, to live by thy self’s stealing,
To live by all thy love’s theft, that thy self hath died:
Thy self, with thy self’s self’s murder in me,
will be thy only friend, my only friend in me,
And by thy help shall live a thousand friends in me.
“So when I have all these for thy part,
Thy fair face to all these for my sake comes in,
Sweet thoughts, thou fair heart that taught it to write,
Thy lips to all these are sweet aids to taste,
In things sweet, simple, and rare:
O most of all, my mind, my love, my love’s colour,
To think and love, is in my mind so created.
“So then my love, if I would in thy sight,
Would think twice, as many times in a day,
The same thoughts and all their different parts,
Which at thy behest would straightway convert
To one simple thought, where they all mingled,
To one sweet thought in one, one simple sorrow.
My sweet beauty, in thee I basely build,
For thee, mine is thine; for me, thou my self dost build,
And for thee, mine is thy self dost grow,
for my verse to your liking I’ll quote:
Here ‘The blackest bastard thou shalt find,
Who would steal thy breath of air from thence,
And put the breath in the eye of every man,
That every tongue, all over the earth, may know
The blackest bastard thou shalt find,
Who would steal thy breath of air from thence,
And put the breath in the eye of every man,
That every tongue, all over the earth, may know
The shadow of death, that shadow in thee:
Then, lo! this is my verse to you,
And for you, my verse still to be:
If any, please tell me that thou thy self’s slave,
For if thou thy self hereafter dost die,
The shadow of death, and that shadow in thee,
This shadow in thee, this shadow in thee,
Thy shadow in thee, this shadow in thee,
Thy shadow in thee, this shadow in thee,
Thy shadow in thee, this shadow in thee,
Thy shadow in thee, this shadow in thee,
Thy shadow in thee, this shadow in thee,
And in thy shadow lie still, and in thy sight,
The same is true in me.
‘Thus far have I been gone by night,
And now to myself have I sworn,
When thou livest in the course of my words,
Thy face that in every place hath writ
Grew my spirit to fire, yea to change,
And to change my outward forms to those therein,
To take upon myself my parts,
to write, now that I am done
I must begin again, and there shall be no end.
The sad music to his oratory is heard,
By many, each one so beloved,
That he or she may be espoused to fame,
While he, in the best parts, is despised.
My poor soul, if that which it calls,
Will but rob it of the light, and thereof blind,
And make a false star of woe, and shame it so.
‘Tis the fault of all men that they do evil;
And thus she for her, in my verse,
Thou art a devil, my love a devil.
To prove my truth I will prove thee false;
The more I prove thee, the stronger I will be;
And thou my self, with thy self’s aid,
To the aid of many, and of false stories,
To the aid of false tongues, and false examples,
To false mothers, and false children, to falsehood in me.
To make that which I believe false, that which thou


======== CHECKPOINT 047 OUTPUT # 001 ========

fanatic so, that’s to say, I have not observed.
My cheeks are bare, my hair a wreck;
The lily pale and the rose green,
I will not hide, but for thy sake shalt stay.
To make them pale, I’ll give them potions,
To get rid of the colour dead, and of the tears.
His lips are lean, his nose full of rage;
His cheek leaner than a lily’s bud,
And his lip beauteous as hell are,
Yet mine eyes, in their pure beams, do make my sight fairer,
And I see the same with my lips.
O lest these tears in mine eyes be tears,
And thy breath breatheth all in my sinful heart,
When thou shalt see how this sinful weed die,
The sire of thyself shalt suffer thy vow,
Thy mortal body shalt in thy body decay,
Thy soul’s soul thy body to be thy dame:
And thou shalt be thy wife’s slave when thou shalt live.”
She says this to him, and all amaz’d,
Her eyes, like marigolds on fire,
Touches their contents with hot determination;
And they make their wills for sweet observance.
O yes, this said, his hand he held up,
Whose purpose it was, was to kiss my hand;
Then the glove being fastened, she forth again.
She doth so beguile the haste,
That she in a little while doth fight with haste;
Then she takes up a fearful eye,
And, lo, the fiend she sees, her heart doth fight.
‘So let it be, that thou thy self art so blind,
Who cannot see but with thy own eye
Perforce perceive the danger of my trespass?
Even so I am afraid, that my steel will break.
Whence art thou so dumb? whence art thou so hard-working?
Whence art thou so hardworking, that so hard work obeyeth?
when thou shalt encounter a boar, keep thy tongue
To make him more afraid by thy desire:
Till then you with steel still possess good will,
And so by thy will relent, and relent,
Like as you, that tongue that makes the bark stand still,
May more embrac’d by thy tongue embrac’d.
She gives him a kiss, and that too sweet moan,
Tells him to keep his tongue long; and she, full of trust,
Tells him to keep his tongue soft, but soft moan fast.
Sweet-smelling Tarquin, with a solemn look
Of chaste chastity seiz’d in her breast,
Bidding the cold-fac’d nun stay awhile,
The heat of his passion still outbraves her modesty.
‘”In him the watchman, in his satchel, lay,
Into a coal-black cistern a little white,
With dials and other precious antiquities in vase,
That burning candles might shade their smoke-distained light;
The windows would open and close, and never wink;
What cold, what hot, what cold wouldst thou feel,
If thou enter in the cold closet of night?
When thou enter in this cold closet dost thou enter?
Myself an attaint of thee, and of my
aggression am I to subdue thee,
The first is conquest, the second denial;
And therefore, being both, I will my self subdue;
For thou art my slave and am I not free?
, as he runs along the banks of a rose,
He stops, stops, stops, stops again;
He grinds his teeth, till, like a drunken rider,
He drowns his blood, and, like a boar, is dead.
What dost thou that dost steal from this flower,
That thou shalt hoard and not reap it again?
My life, thy flower, and thy beauty being dead,
I’ll live, and be thou another Muse.’
‘I will,’ quoth he, ‘I will; but ’tis too late;’
And he replies by hanging his head;
If there be no further question, stay still,
And make my love a silent pilgrimage:
And if there be any, stop not my thoughts till I find some,
So thou wilt be thy friend in love:
The night’s breath is too warm, and too cold,
And all these annoyings make my heart murmur and shake.
But thou art my friend, and I hope thou will be,
That my name will ever remain secret,
Nor my body till all my thoughts are rid’d.
When I in peace see your pale and bloody face,
All hearts bow their heads in mine honour


======== CHECKPOINT 047 OUTPUT # 002 ========

ocrat as the son of the dead,
And as the son and heir to a life,
Yet still with him shall live, and still with him no more.
‘Dear lord, would my verse now be
To your use, or your own pleasure?
Do not despair, for that will alter my mind;
A man can be unjust if he be not kind;
Thou canst not be unjust if thy sweet self remain.
Even to this end my verse with verses replete
With happy themes doth so far go,
That I have seen with more delight
Than any I have seen in your fair name.
And each fair jewel in fair form a god doth store
In precious stones that will in time live replete,
Each dear dearer that is not so,
The one is thy best, the other to be,
From your loving hand, wherein are you the present?
Then what hand can hold back thy loving eye,
When in spite of all strength do you seem to wither,
Being pushy in arms and knees, and prone,
To watch his proud legs, till he with arms be gone?
Or do you but be your own storehouse and feeder,
When in the bosom of love do you seem to die,
And then be you dead and living in that.
And like a falcon falcon, he leaps from the sky,
And being slain, flies where he lands.
What a lovely sight it had! ‘Tis a shame not to see,
That you seem to wander in the dark,
But dark night’s effects wear out your dim show,
For dark hours are quickly yielded to dim mists;
So then your fair complexion is best suited
To night-wand’ring time, and nights are spent with mists and dandles,
To sad-sad and weary days.
Yet for thy love, for her, life in my sight is ended;
She hath him by death’s broken knife, and I by life’s blood.
In thy shame let no other boast go,
Since thy beauty so doth live in thee,
That lives no death, thou wast not alive to kill.
Let him go with his prey to meet his death;
The coward heartless eye of heaven will not let
The coward soul get close, and if so, what hell
And how fast and how coldly it moves!
O, what an eternity it may be!
For even here the lines begin, “Who ever shunn’d thee?”
And, ere he say’she’,’she’, ‘he’,’she’, ‘his’,’she’ or ‘his’,
Came with him to take a look, and there she lay,
To mark her troubled face, on whose smooth skin
Her pale cheek, like a pale-pink’d pear, roll’d up in her head;
Round this round eye she doth behold a fair flower,
Which seems to her to promise sweet favours,
And soon begins to enchant her sight, so she gazeth:
But then she hears a heavy groan, and soon falls,
Like falling clouds, which from their shining spheres doth fly;
And having begun, quoth she, ‘My body will not rise again.
Even in the clouds of eternal night,
As from heaven’s melting girdle doth unfold,
all in vain Love, now and then the night
Will ask thee to bless the day with a kiss.
What treasure dost thou lose when thou returnest hungry,
That thou art one of the many that dost praise?
‘For lo, the proud jewel that keeps thy city fresh,
It shall live in my unlooked-for treasure;
So shall it never die, though in decay it seem
To decay on the earth with decay.
No, it shall not perish, though it be old,
Yet till we have tasted it, we are slaves to decay.’
“But be not too fond of your fear,
For the teeth of thorns, by their sharpness disturbed,
Kill yourselves at first, and then for fear of long:
Then do not leave the party, for fear of injury:
Then I will not lie, and thou shalt see me again.
Then love’s golden rings shall never wear away,
And lo the tables shall be emptied of their delight.
‘O Time, thou art the fairest jewel I have,
Mine is thy right hand, my other is thy mother’s hand:
Both amiss, now is the time that I must tear,
To show my love to my love’s false treasure gone.
Then weep, and be silent, and then cry out,
The one loves me, the other to blame:
And the sighs that come in one can


======== CHECKPOINT 047 OUTPUT # 003 ========

nearer, my love was love not love to thee?
Her face, like that of a virtuous nun,
Was not so smooth, but seemed so heavy,
Like the visage of a sluttish goddess.
O how her cheeks should betray the deep thought
Of days full of labour, or hours spent
With no leisure but idle nap?
Love made me wake up and be my rest,
When I was tired of that rest which I thought
So to myself I wake up, wake up again, and be gone.
Yet when I was tired I would not sleep,
Till sometime Lucrece come and stay me,
As often as the Romans did stay.
Her eyes, like sappy blossoms, did cover
Her cheeks, as white sheets, do cover every part.
She had but one look with those eyes of thine,
Like young women’s eyes in summer’s scorching heat.
‘To thee,’ quoth she, ‘do write to me,
For thou art the one, and I the other.
Thy beauty, being dead, remains a virgin name;
The one lov’d, the other alive,
To dwell with him who hath no eyes to gaze,
Save where he can make thee behold his face.
‘The thing that harms my heart more,
The thing that heals my heart’s infection?
I will pity thee with my vow,
And vow I will not let that wrong keep.
I have said this to Tarquin, to get thee his tongue;
To him I do swear, ’tis true;’
‘Lo, it is,’ quoth he, ‘this day I must vow:
Unless thou prove it, I will thy fair,
When thou shalt have twenty kisses with me this night.
And to the painter, by whom the work is done,
A true copyist would be esteemed,
of painted words I might prove
my love with greater grace.
For from the wood which she herself was sawn
Proud of her life, yet not so fond of words,
That in life words should ever rehearse,
In beauty dead or alive,
Her beauty dead, and still she liv’d:
But never to-morrow would hear her complain,
In death, or things death hath wrought,
And death still live, still live, and thou wilt see
By my love’s shadow my life’s end shall last,
If life’s end thou wilt desire to renew.
So then shall those whom thou hast lost,
That thou hast lov’d with my life, and I with thee,
That is to say, to me the sole bond still unbroken,
To me the unending string is as strong,
as the riper fawn that doth scratch her groom,
Catching his prey with a frantic gait,
Stirred with sudden desire his prey by a wait:
In vain the giddy groom doth chase him,
Making frantic turns to make him fly;
And when he lands, fearfully in his haste,
He tushes her gently on the cheek, and there
A coy smile, but with her own teeth it appears.
‘Then be advised, young love, to take this knife,
When in thy power thou art tempted by many temptations,
As when in the power of lust I slay,
For every fair that touches thee doth beauty grow.
‘Look, what a world of falsehood hides in Troy
Shows in thy image all falsehood and truth!
What world can false religion, in whose pride so proud
Such a glorious show of beauty doth dwell?
What true and true religion doth deny,
Whose lips themselves upon either’s lips stand condemned?
If in the centre of all truth there dwell
Wrathful falsehood, what sin can a worthless pen plead
Be of death? if in the centre of true thoughts doth lie,
And thou the author of a false deed write,
Then is beauty a god but mortal,
And perjury a high art, a devil neither sweet nor devil:
And if in that case the author of thine,
Whose name is Tarquin, the greater sin,
Is he not the thine too? (O pardon me, I know
Thy face thou hast ne’er harmed, and my name is dead)
Then thou art my dear and most beloved: but lo,
That is, all, was but an ornament and ne’er loved.
And for this purpose drew Brutus,
In hand with Lucrece’ wound, and by him that did fly,
Bid thy body’s passage be granted,
And then, as Lucrece’ arms their pace proceeds,
Bidding them be hasten to Troy, where he lies,
To see their god Tarquin again, to see


======== CHECKPOINT 047 OUTPUT # 004 ========

flix to the sick and the poor.
That which thou shalt behold,
Thy inward spite, inward pride,
Thy inward shame, thy inward shame,
Thy inward pride, thy inward shame,
Whilst thou art egotized in all this:
All these hold together like a melting heart,
And each to a breaking point doth shake
Thy self-will and true faith, each as melting clay.
And then from their banks he throws up his eyes,
Whose view is all-divining, all-loving, and all-hiding,
Which make them unrespected, unrespected, and unrespected eyes,
When every part confessing their defect hath pow’r
To all things that are, whether that be, to do or say.
This she did disjoin from her breast,
And then she again broke forth her sighs, and threw them
Through the breach of her lips, to drown the breath.
‘”In vain I bid farewell to my son,
To my self-love, to your honourable deaths,
To your honourable deaths, your honourable deaths,
To your honourable deaths your honourable deaths,
To every fair creation that ever lived,
And in them all your right, in them all wrongs,
Thou best living, and best living not best alive,
Which I hold to be the worst and best,
For nothing, worth nothing, truly being,
By nature’s force can best make thee better,
Being born again in this respect, being born again better.
If men did question what qualities
Their beauty should have, they should say,
The sun is green, the moon red,
The stars white, but in themselves they change;
But if the sun in his prime doth change,
The moon in her shade doth change,
And on the rose doth change all.
“That I have been woo’d in dreams before,
Like to some untimely jolting hour,
Showing my heart hath stopped beating, and my heart be
Dazed, sweating, with sorrow still doth rise:
At length he doth depart, and goes to bed.
O if she had had, my life might not have ended this way,
For her life had not ended this way, my life had ended this way
For life, and death, and all.
“Thou wilt be king, and thou shalt never last.
Thy servant is too unkind; let him go,
let his foul blood flow unthrifts,
Whose sweet breath doth swallow up all clean air,
And drinketh all in his foul flight,
In his foulest excess begets his foulest blood.
So, having no other means than this,
To do my will, to do my will doth call;
Then by the bloodless will of this pent-up will,
The verse would begin: “Lo, this pentagram is to show thee how to make good
That thou must not live by your deeds alone.”
But when the trumpet once more starts,
The weakling shrieks, and th’ impression of her pain is blown wide.
In a pause, a pale-fac’d man
With a red and feathered mourner’s hat
Holds sway’d the proceedings, in her head
What may her angry thoughts convey;
What may her sad words convey; what may her sad words express:
Thy self being mute, she in his place doth sing.
‘What should I say to prevent him from coming,
From me? or what should I say to prevent him from coming?
‘In vain,’ quoth she, ‘I must say this: I love thee; but thou shalt not love me so,
Thy voice is thine own; therefore be merciful:
And for this, I will do thy right;
Thy voice is thine own; therefore be merciful:
And for this, I will do thy right.
‘Thy voice is thine own; therefore be merciful;
For this, I will do thy right; thy voice is thine own; therefore be merciful;
Thy voice is thine own; therefore be merciful;
Thy voice is thine own; therefore be merciful;
Thy voice is thine own; therefore be merciful;
Thy voice is thine own; therefore be merciful;
Thy voice is thine own; therefore be merciful;
And for this, I will do thy right; thy voice is thine own; therefore be merciful;
Thy voice is thine own; therefore be merciful;
And for this, I will do thy right; thy voice is thine own; therefore be merciful;
Th


======== CHECKPOINT 047 OUTPUT # 005 ========

hath and wert to the object, and there she stood, and there she did stain, and there she did stain again: so shall I be revenged upon my breach, that by my breaking I never mend;—I never will confess that I ever loved thee, nor ever knew thy true state.
And this she said she would remove her cap, and she would remove it, if it could be fasten’d to her will: so shall I be revenged on my infamy, that by this fast I do extend to thee some more: so may the world be warmed with my poor ill:—
Yet in thy bosom’s arms thy will, thy will I do defy not!
The time hath come to remove the stain on my life,
And to return to life’s course to rid my name of offence;
For with the change that comes to me I am purposed,
That when no such semblance to me remains,
I may return, being proud and privileged:
Beauty in itself is lost, if not in that, in thee.
‘Thus far from this edge of thievish doom,
I’ll fight the blunt wolf with my steel might,
And yet my steel might not hold him long.
“How could I forsworn to Tarquin fear?
Who would swear that I would not defy?
Who would swear that I would not swear that I would not defy?
Let those spies of yours that do open
My registers to secret conspiracies lie hid,
And all men are tenants to rottenness ensnareth:
To every fair I can devise a measure,
Which I to your help might live for ever.
But in me that all is force, reason hath his art,
But my art in things of subtle importance,
And subtle things for art in things of power.
When you look upon my antique books,
I have seen that old books are precious;
In newer works they prove more precious.
But ah, for that book which old men may borrow
Of newer and newer beauty’s beauties, my muse hath writ,
And to the praise of all ages readeth,
The antique of your times is still extant.
Love is sweet, but not sweet to men,
And it is sweet in the least to men.
For then do I wrong a man, a woman, a child,
For even as a drunken lion swerves, the rider with the goblet,
By that swift-footed lion’s sting might come nigh.
The world may well conclude that I am unkind,
For all men are kind, but most are kindles.
‘Thou grant’st to be woo’d of a wife,
Till thou thy self at last give me thy hand,
I will not abuse thee, and yet thou must use
Thy soft hand, to tame thy kindling hot:
Thy soft hand, to tame thy kindling hot,
To tame thy sweet being, thou must my sweet use.
So thou lov’st my sweet ass, and I am thy friend,
So dost thou my friend make me your slave?
, like him, Tarquin was mute, and thus remained:
So do my slaves, that thou, the author of my sins,
Thou left’st me no other choice but to torture,
Thy self, to give thy self the rest by me stealing,
Or to my self by thy self stealing,
That thy self with me to be forsaken did give rest
To thee, and to thy self thy self.
‘So will thy fair sweet self be my prisoner,
And in the hope of being free from this hell,
Return to thy self, that I may in the least belong.
And if thou wilt yield, that fair fair fair,
And with my fair fair self, I thy self may be freed.
Yet be free of bondage and bondage’s bonds!
Being free from bondage, is my bond renewed.
That’s why I have sung hymns of love to thee,
As often as I write to you,
Thy love shall live, and thine love shall live in thine own eyes,
And in thine eyes thou art the better for my fair taste.
“Look what kind of man a king should have
Who had no son, but had two, and one beauty,
Would do thee honour by selling your life.”
Such speeches are rare now, and yet they tend,
To provoke fear in those who themselves are strong.
O how did I not by chance betray
My affection to a man of thine own,
Nor my love to a man of thine own?
O never fears your love that not my blood can cure thee;
Never in thy power am I contented
To torture your love, nor love your love to


======== CHECKPOINT 048 OUTPUT # 001 ========

jerseys.
To each his fair and perfect rank did his fair name take,
Like a summer’s day and a sun that doth ill grow.
In vain he plots his decease; for fools make errors,
So their folly’s fair show doth spend.
Sometimes her eyelids are fix’d in her face’s hue,
Like crystal globes whereon rainbows doth dwell;
others see but obscure circles,
Sinking unseen behind hidden bars,
And then as they see their spheres they dim
With dreadful twilight and dismal night.
O no, she knows no such thing,
She goes on and on, her course being enforced,
Like a clock that ‘gan break at midnight,
When no time nor hour hath allotted
Whilst the world’s busy beating heart beats,
To let the sad morrow wait on that morrow,
Whilst the world’s busy beating heart beats,
Which now her sad heart so slow doth commence.
So are they mute, and then the clock tells
That Time’s minute is expired, and Time’s second begun.
“Why dost thou pine and cry, ’tis raining?’
Poor earth, why dost thou pine for water?
Sorrow mak’st the eyes weep, and tears in their tears;
And therefore her weeping eye doth weep more,
For pitying herself that she is so late.”
“Poor fool,” quoth he, “your day’s pleasure is past,
And all that entertainment with your hearing,
Doth spend the rest of your waking in idle brain.
Even here, like a dying coal, the waves break
Within the hollow wall of a cave;
The painter’s rough image peep’d through
As if he had seen it with his true eye;
The deep purple pearl encloses
Whereon the tears shed in tears stream forth.
‘”Why dost thou pine and cry, ’tis raining?
And why dost thou pine for water?
To drown the life in death of another?
Or to convert water to vapour,
That thence doth it convert to use in fire?
O neither art thou mine, nor I thy debtor,
For thou wast my earthly image, my fair wife’s tear,
When thou wast dead, I too, the image of thee,
Must live again as living Collatine did thee,
And live on as thy living Collatine.
Love made you stronger, and we all better endowed,
Both with your loving hands and our love’s feeling paws,
So do I now strive to prove
That all men have wombs and minds both created.
Love will not kiss me, but that which is left unswayed
will stain your coat of love’s best,
If it ever must be yours: for what it doth sell,
How well it doth in the eternal struggle!
And in this trial will you enjoy
The better part of the long lasting happiness
If you will the better part suffer!
“Fie, fie!” quoth he, with such a sound,
That his eyes did dart from her face,
And in her remorseless blood
From his lips did fly a dazzling array
Of white, of red, of blushing, of changeable hue:
Some on either side their wavering heads dropp’d.
“Fie, fie,” quoth she, “why, woe is me!
My parts are too weak, my strength too great,
To fight, nor be defeated by the foe.
‘So with this, he rouseth from his bed;
‘Then I faint, and then faint and win.”
“The plague will not touch thee till the next morning;
The naked thief will not touch thee till he clears;
If he smothers thee, thy sinewy hair doth wither;
Thy untun’d hair, thy loose twisted sense wastes;
Thy uncouth act of love destroys not thy dear life:
Thy bare poor, untainted body doth mock thee;
Thy untun’d body doth mak’st thy shame:
Thy untun’d body doth mak’st thy shame’s decay:
Till thine infirmity doth tell thee thy sweet time.
“I’ll give thee all my heart I can,
And tell the sad story of my untimely death;
And thou dost live, if thou dost not give it my due.
Thus is thy soul brought before thy eyes
to this sad-beholding doom,
That she may be revenged on my untimely death.
‘Thou wronged dame, and shall blame me for this;
Thy treason, and thy treason’s foul deed,
Thy spoil, and ‘gainst


======== CHECKPOINT 048 OUTPUT # 002 ========

past
His eyes were clouded,
That stern fear in his fair cheeks did frame
What might his face have done wrong,
What might his soft hand do wrong, what might his lips do right?
He would have wink’d at that foolish time,
And left her bemused husband with his woes.
“When I have sworn to thee, thou art my love,” quoth he, “if thou do, then lend
a hand of kindness to love that will do it good:
Even so thou shalt not bewray it,
That in me it is thine own fault.
Thy self, mine own wrong, is thy sovereign good,
And thou, thy true self, thy self’s foul arbiter,
That every good man can do good to me.”
‘Thou art as good as mine; but if thou keep this oath,
The world will say that I am poor,
My life is but a toy,
And nothing but mine is true,
When in the truest sense thou art made,
For such an earthly hand doth issue
As mine to the earth, my self to heaven,
What’s my colour in thee depends?
When in thy breast do thy parts disgrace?
O no, I am not your slave,
And thou my slave am I to my loathsome tongue;
But as my lord, so too my love is to hate;
And the love that is best is love to love worse,
To me the best is better than my love to love.
To me the worst is love to love best,
To me the best is love to love worst,
For loving is not love without love’s love.
When I have sworn to thee, I have sworn thee,
And to thee I have sworn my love,
And to thy false tears with thine have committed,
Thy pure love with mine eyes hath decayed,
And thou shalt never possess thine again,
For my love is thine, thy thine is mine.”
For she, that hath sworn, was never freed
From the bondage of her oath;
And that free remission which thou shalt see,
With her protestation still renewed the flood.
So hath he his guilt swerved, and her woe hath dried.
‘My sorrow shall in no way diminish
The course of this storm which shall ensue it;
It shall then be a storm of showers, bloody showers
And sad groans and bloody groans, each hour’s protestation,
Will wash the face of this earth and all her ocean;
But when, blushing with surprise, she sees the bottomless flood,
And all these sad sights shall thence remain untold.
O where hath my love been lodged,
that to the world he gave this life?
How can my love be sent away?
The answer is this, ‘He gave me this life, and I this life.’
‘But that thy sweet love may in some measure survive
The disgrace of so forsaken a name,
I’ll undertake to take thee with more pride,
That thy love may in some measure survive,
The shame of such a name being espied,
The honour and glory to which it goes,
Whilst thy name as an honoured mark doth appear,
And I in a perpetual minority esteem,
The dead, being mov’d with newer age.
‘Poor unruly beast,’ quoth she, ‘why dost thou fight so?
My body is strong, strong, proud, strong, strong, strong, strong!
If thou (my body) should break, O let my proud soul,
Be anchored there, and let no break-up of thy breath,
thy worth to me assured,
I am to thy good thoughts, thy bad thoughts assured,
If they prove untrue, I hold thee for their sake,
And by their false infamy kill thee in thy state.
When in doubt shalt thou review
The fickle workings of fortune-telling spirits,
Where thou art but a child, and thou art a man,
When beauty turns white, the best is ‘twixt thee and me,
But in the best, thou dost be best, and best is best in me:
In me, best is best, and best ‘twixt thee and me.
“The wolf sheds his blood at the sight of thee;
The lamb cleaves at the zealous mother;
The mare is so quick in her doom that she bites the rider;
The sire commits the crime of his lust:
The freeborn, free, not only to breed, but to breed
As quickly as man can, by his own skill begets;
He that lends, is not his own free gift;
Yet when he lends, his free gift is such a hind;
When he lends


======== CHECKPOINT 048 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Inner a man, as a lamb, with all his might he will devour;
But thou lov’st me, and I hate thee.
This said, she toss’d up the dead of night,
And cold-pale forth again, that their red lights did lend;
They thence in their dimness fell asleep.
‘Thus says he to her, ‘I’ll hunt the boar, and kill the lamb;
Thou know’st when thou art hunted, and where thou art not hunted.’
‘Well, foul churl, thou couldst not kill a living thing,
Nor would thou the better of men kill a living thing,
To know that thou know’st time doth spend wasting.
That thou know’st time spent on useless shows,
And that thou art once spent reading useless books,
That time spent reading and listening to things dead,
How dost thou be a fool that hast spent all thy time
In this idle, senseless, senseless book?
To write, how dost thou spend eternity?
Or even the world to say, Time’s dead and you are
Time’s living instrument, to write to thee?
What right, in Time’s dead instrument should a story take?
Or what right should a story have to you,
when thou shalt begin to ruminate,
Lest the time prove no use;
And even in thy ruminate will rhymes grow.
Thou art never all that, yet when I feel thee grow,
I’ll compare thee with the wits and blushes I had,
To-night when thou dost live, when I weep for thee.
‘Had she his arm, that nice hand that his hand did bind,
She might have wished she might have cried, “O false tears,”
But she did not catch his eye; he fell, and she fell again.
The wind that bloweth from thee from the sky,
How dare I that should call upon thee?
Or my poor muse accuse me of foul maleness?
But thou art my muse, and she my poor conscience doth
Take all my faults from mine own breast,
And dedicate them not to thy own poor tongue,
But thou thy self shalt write of mine own crime,
To be my muse in thee, and not in me.
‘Thus says he: ‘Upon thy image shalt thou sit,
And if thou dost desire to have my image,
And by and by, desire may be gave,
Thy picture shall thence be the tomb of love,
That to thee my love may dwell,
And thou thy self, my love to whom thou mayst convey.
But if thou dost desire to have the whole,
Or ten times more, for that, than mine own likeness live,
What then do we say? O let them not say that
No picture they can convey,
Or that their own self a better show
Grows from thee, as snow from a bire are spent;
My soul, my body, my soul being taken,
Lays waste in eternity the sands of time.
‘O thou wilt, despite of death, bequeath to thy bed
The immortality that is thy will,
And be buried in eternity thy sweet will preserve;
And bequeath to thee all eternity’s treasure,
With thy will, in hope, in fear, in hope
That thou through the portal from the grave mayst come again,
Will tie the knot that keeps thee prisoner here.
‘Thou lov’st not thy self, but thou lov’st too much,
Thou lov’st not thyself, it is thy will,
Thou lov’st to be, but it is no help to stay,
A perpetual torment, and a torment for thee,
Even in my will, and in thy will,
What is thy will, and what is not thy will?
Thou canst not will, and will not fulfill;
But like a fiend, whose sting wounds all heal’d,
Who in the worst of triumph doth stand
For the death of thy self, thy own death’s spoil,
And who doth not, by their dying breath suffer,
More pain than mine own body did deserve.
‘But, dear boy, if aught wrong, say not I,
My will is never shaken, nor my will never grow,
But my will be thy constant will;
And my will in your image will ever abide.
Love is but an instrument for ornament,
And by ornament it is meant neither
To do nor to get, nor ever to leave.
‘But my will,’ quoth she, ‘do every thing but work,
And that through my will be enforced.
I will not entertain the thought of perjury
Where thou art not my self, yet


======== CHECKPOINT 048 OUTPUT # 004 ========

generated, by heaven’s help;
Or at the least, by the help of a heavenly spirit,
A place where no earthly harm might ensue:
To such assistance thou help shalt find,
A home that will thrive to thee well,
And love that grows and dies by thee alone.
“To me therefore as you here set down
Each thing that shapes me, my mind doth answer:
If that, you too, were one, then all things are dreamt.
Yet if I were one, mine thought, as you mine,
Would in your thought form a true theme.
And by thy sweet thoughts did I derivate
Thy fair name, that in thy thought
might thy sweet name be remembered well.
Yet thou being dead, I cannot seem to thee
For thou art still my ghost, that liv’d in thee:
Thy likeness in thine reflects, and mine in thy mind,
That thou mayst see thy old self, for the very sake of me.
‘But where is thy sweet heart, that needs a rein?
Or where hath thy beauty left me, where didst thou put it?
‘My sweet self thou art, and for that which in thee
Shall art dead, that thou must return again.’
‘Then woe is me! Too much of this, my dear,
Cannot bear, let alone bear;
For then I am too much swarmed, my dear,
And my love lost in the flood drowns me.”
“Ay me! yet another instance of witchcraft?”
‘O father, what of witchcraft is
Of a more reproach than thy late honey?
Or of a pureer spirit than thy good?
Or of a woman possessed of such extremes,
That even in their bareness they did look pale?
What could a careless fool do wrong?
O steal their breath, and wear their own!
Even so the bank where they spent their sighs gave
Whose fresh outrages in their mess hall no cure to bring,
As men’s tears, which, like silver globes, did cover their
Breathing water down the laden river’s banks.
‘Yet from the burning furnace in whose hot head
Thou shalt not look, mine eye hath not found the way,
He will not smother it with his bending motion;
So with a desperate rage the fire heats up his heat,
That, hot with fright, it doth quake with his rage.
‘O, that desperate exclamation of mine,
Who at my unswayed hand, fearing lest thy hand fall,
Or else his bending motion seem’d to betray,
Mine eyes, which love bred, did make my heart rise.
But love hath mine eyes’ function in me,
And in that function the lily flower,
As a memorial of thy sweet youth,
Upon that flower I may my self live,
If my self grow old and I in thy sight grow.
But that thy beauty should stand in thy sight,
thy pity well may be blest;
To be blest is the least of all desires.’
As they have debated whether to kill themselves,
Or survive by swallowing so much grief,
To die by swallowing so much misery,
to die by-pass’d was his passion;
As it must was supposed he would die by-pass’d.
‘”Thus says he to her with unwholesome gaiety,
A league of thine eye’s twining shall I spend;
Such strife and strife my heart makes;
For one by my side is slain by another;
Such strife my heart makes for peace and rest.”
‘Thus says he to her with unwholesome gaiety,
A league of thine eye’s twining shall I spend;
Such strife my heart