Full Log #1

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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)) that I’ve never seen before.

However, I found that the second most popular option was a new version (4.0.3) of the Java web app on Android called the Java-Lite, which has an even better UI and is less complex to write and is free.

If you read the manual for the project, you will notice that the first step in implementing the UI and setting up the environment is fairly simple. The second step in the app is much simpler. The first part is to write a JSP that generates a list of objects (called a list) that have a fixed length. The next part is to call the function getList(String, Int) which will generate a list of values from the list.

The first three steps are fairly simple, but there are several problems that go into it. The first one is that you can’t easily create the List object. It’s basically an assembly that is just as complex as Java itself. In this case, you would create a new class, create a new class, create a constructor, and call getList(String, String) to find the List object. So we can now do the same with the actual Java web app but only the List object, and you need to use Java 8’s new constructor, which I haven’t covered yet. So let’s do this with another class, called StringList.

The first task I’m going to do is to generate the List object by using the methods getList(String, Int).

The second task I’m going to do is to write a function to getString(). The third task is to create the String List object. And finally the fourth task is to call a method to generate the list of values that have been generated from the String List object. So, that’s just one job.

The final step in this application is to test the application by running the following commands. Run tests. You can find all the tests on the project:

java -jar app/app.jar

You should see an output like this.

I really like this process because I can create new types of objects that work within a given environment. That’s the main reason I like this method in this project: because it gives you more control over how the app’s resources are used.

It also means that the code will not depend on other frameworks. I just write it to make the code look less ugly and more flexible.

Now lets look at the code that I wrote using this method.

public class File { public static void Main() { File() { Console.WriteLine(“Running tests”) Console.WriteLine(“Test is on”, new File()); Console.WriteLine(“Result= %s “, String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(String.Format(

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sums with one another, it can be the very last thing we ever hope for.

* * * * *

A new and beautiful world is emerging.

The world that we live in today might seem like a lot of things to imagine. We can imagine it as a world that we could enjoy in a few weeks, and we could live here. We can imagine it as a world that, perhaps, we would like to be part of. But we aren’t. This world is an illusion, and there’s nothing we can do to make things right for it. There are plenty of things we can do, and lots of ways to help. And many people are going to be looking for something to be different about it.

That’s not to say we have any specific ideas of things to help us, because we can and we often have the very best ideas. Sometimes the best ideas fall on deaf ears. It doesn’t matter what you believe, if you have no ideas, no real ability to think, then it doesn’t make sense to make changes.

What we can do is change our world, and we can do that by moving things.

Some of the things I’ve talked about in my book are:

1. Human-created worlds, by Thomas Sowell (1996, 2002).

2. Human-created worlds, by Stephen Jay Gould (1997, 1999, 2004, 2007).

3. Human-created worlds, by Robert M. Gould (2003, 2008).

4. The idea of human-generated worlds and the creation of new ones: Stephen Jay Gould, 2005, (2008, 2011, 2014, 2015).

5. The notion of human-generated worlds, by Stephen Jay Gould (2010).

6. The concept of a human-generated world, by Paul Simon (2009).

7. The idea of a human-created world, by Mark Zuckerberg (2011).

8. The concept of a human-created world, by Peter Thiel (2012).

9. The idea of a human-created world, by Mark Zuckerberg (2013).

10. The idea of a human-created world, by Stephen Jay Gould (2013).

11. The concept of a human-created world, by Mark Zuckerberg (2013).

12. The concept of a human-created world, by Thomas Sowell (1995).

13. Human-created worlds, by Richard Dawkins (1997).

14. The concept of a human-created world, by Mark Zuckerberg (2013).

15. A common misunderstanding about the concept of a human-created world. Stephen Jay Gould, 1998.

16. The concept of a human-created world, by Mark Zuckerberg (2013).

17. The concept of a human-created world, by Mark Zuckerberg (2013).

18. The concept of a human-created world, by Stephen Jay Gould (2013).

19. The idea of a human-created world, by Mark Zuckerberg (2013).

20. The concept of a human-created world, by Mark Zuckerberg (2013).

21. The idea of a human-created world, by David Graeber (1997).

22. The idea of a human-created world, by Mark Zuckerberg (2013).

23. The concept of a human-created world, by Robert M. Gould (2013).

24. The idea of a human-created world, by Peter Thiel (2013).

25. The idea of a human-created world, by Mark Zuckerberg (2013).

26. The idea of a human-created world, by Stephen Jay Gould (2013).

27. A common misunderstanding about the concept of a human-created world. Richard Dawkins, 2001.

28. The idea of a human-created world, by Mark Zuckerberg (2013).

29. The concept of a human-created world, by Stephen Jay Gould (2013).

30. The idea of a human-created world, by Mark Zuckerberg (2013).

31. The idea of a human-created world, by Stephen Jay Gould (2013).

32. A common misunderstanding about the concept of a human-created world. Mark Zuckerberg, 1999, 1999.

33. A common misunderstanding about the concept of a human-created world. Peter Thiel, 2012, 2012.

34. A common misunderstanding about the concept of a human-created world. Mark Zuckerberg, 2011, 2012.

35. The concept of a human-created world, by Mark Zuckerberg (2013).

36. The concept of a human-created world, by Mark Zuckerberg (2013).

37. A common misunderstanding about the concept of a human-created world. Peter Thiel, 2013.

38. The concept of a human-created world, by Mark Zuckerberg (2013).

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Monsanto “is not your friend,” Trump said in the wake of the Charlottesville incident. “They are not your friends.”

“It’s a sad day for the United States of America,” he added.


Trump’s remarks came on the same day that Trump’s National Security Adviser, H.R. McMaster, was reported to have said there was nothing to worry about when he met with Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe.

“I met with him last week. And he didn’t say anything bad, he just asked me a couple of questions,” Trump said at an event in Washington on Thursday.

McMaster told Fox Business Network the “very serious question” he posed, while also making it clear his “personal views have nothing to do with that.”

In a statement, McMaster said: “No, the president and his team met with Prime Minister Abe and Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe today. I have not discussed their meeting publicly until now, but I certainly have expressed my deep admiration for their leadership in keeping America strong. We are all in the same boat.

“I was asked this question by @JPMorrell on his airplane last night. He said nothing, as I have always done in the past, about the Japan issue and not his personal views.”

Trump did not respond to the interview, which appeared on Fox News, ABC News and NBC.

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“The first and foremost responsibility for the protection of the United States is to safeguard its borders and ensure the safety of Americans in the most effective way, which is through the judicial system.”

“The judiciary has been criticized for a lack of oversight of immigration enforcement,” said Paul Hurd, senior counsel at the ACLU, which is representing the Trump administration on the immigration case.

“There is a real danger that our government’s ability to protect citizens from unlawful and criminal immigration will be undermined by the erosion of due process rights, not the ability to bring cases based on the best interests of Americans.”

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Nordic and South Eastern European countries, and has been criticized for its role in “blatantly failing to address the crisis”.

“We must speak out forcefully against the way the EU is using the EU’s political and economic powers to prevent the creation of new countries with far-reaching and long-term problems,” the White House said in a statement.

“We have a responsibility to speak out against the abuses of EU institutions in order to make clear our government and the world’s allies of the EU will not tolerate these measures,” the White House said.

Mr Cameron, however, warned the UK to resist and urged EU countries to “get on the ground” and to use all available means to stem the migrant crisis.

“We are now ready to start talks with the EU to work together to end this terrible crisis,” he told a news conference.

Speaking in Luxembourg following talks with Chancellor Angela Merkel, Mr Cameron was seen as increasingly isolated by Mrs Merkel.

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knowledge in its own right, and if one does not feel like you are entitled to it, then your actions are not fair. It is our duty to provide you with the best possible environment. And if you think you are a victim of your own bad judgment, don’t be too hard on yourself. Remember that your own good judgment is your own responsibility.

If you do not take your responsibility for yourself seriously, then it may not be fair to complain about your actions and to complain about what others perceive as unjust acts.


I, for one, do not agree with all of the statements in this post. I want to point out that I think you and your audience should have the ability to take seriously your own experience and the views of others on these topics. It is not fair to judge someone simply on a piece of paper. It is also not fair to judge them for their own failings. You need to look at what people are saying about them for the opportunity to express your own opinions. I don’t think that you are entitled to say what you think that is not fair to the others. I think that you have the right to feel that the way you have been treated unfairly should not make you feel wronged. This is the kind of feeling you want to have.


I am also sorry to suggest that some of the comments below may not make sense if you are just saying that the same person has been treated unfairly. This may not be so, since they may be wrong and this is no longer a “my opinion” as it used to be. These comments could be very good if they had a little bit of extra context to tell you that there may be something you think is not fair, and I would say that this is probably wrong because it could be bad news for you and your audience. Some of your comments have been in fact quite constructive and even if it seems that the comments have been misconstrued to mean “I agree” or “my opinion” then, again, this might be a bad thing to be saying.


I don’t disagree that there is a lot of misandry in general. But that doesn’t mean that there shouldn’t exist. When you are faced with many different viewpoints and you see that many different people disagree about things in a way that is unsupportive to others, don’t dismiss it as being unfair or unpatriotic, but rather to take the same position that others hold.

So I am very sorry for the comments that appear below. I have written a few things which I feel should be taken in the context of my comments above.

I am not sure what you want from a commenter. I can’t take what you think, but you need to be able to accept it.

I disagree with some of your points that I have put forth, but I think that you have a right to think on it, and you do. And I hope you do, and you know that it is not right to be bullied, to be left out of discussion or for lack of due process.

If you don’t agree with the above, you can go to the following:

Here is a helpful list of statements made by some of my other commenters.

1. ” I am not a good person. ” (emphasis mine): You are not a good person if you feel like your actions are being treated unfairly.

The point here is that I have put in some very bad words. You have been labeled, you have been labeled with a very strong negative term. It’s really not fair to accuse people of being people and you should not be held accountable for how they act. And again, I think that you are entitled to believe the things you have been told.

I will only make comments as a rule of thumb, and this is because my readers are entitled to disagree on things.

2. ” My actions do not reflect my views. ” (emphasis mine): This isn’t fair, because it is not true that the person has been judged unfairly, because it is unfair and there is a very bad chance of someone being wrong. It is even worse because it doesn’t make sense for the person to say that things were wrong and they should be treated accordingly.

I think this makes it unfair to people and I think that’s fair.

3. ” People should not be judged by their actions. ” (emphasis mine): It is unfair for someone to say that one person’s actions do not reflect how they feel about someone, because it is unfair and it is unfair and they must be treated accordingly.

4. ” The wrong people should be treated with the same level of respect as the right people. ” (emphasis mine): In this quote I am only saying what is the right thing to do. You need to be able to see the person’s own words that are just what he says, and not what you think

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curve’s length.

Now, it’s possible that the best way to predict which key turns a person plays in a given situation is to calculate the number of turns (for instance, by dividing your number of games by the average of your team’s scoring attempts) and then combine those with the numbers of your previous teams’ winning percentages to create a “point-of-sale” (a table for how many of your points your team will score if you win 100 games). But these calculations won’t be very accurate since your team’s goal will depend on the number of points your opponents score (because it depends on how many other team’s are on the table). So, you need to estimate the number of points your team has given each game in order to give you a better idea of how many points a team has given to a certain player, based on a certain number of games played.

If your team had two wins in a row over the course of an hour, would the team have won the game (or had the opponent score an average of a game-high percentage of points)?

How many points would your team have given each player (which is why we use the word “points” instead of “points”), or (and that’s the trick here!) would the team have given each player?

I’ll give a couple of examples.

If your team had 100 points, how many would the team have given each of you (for example, if you had three games)?

For a game, say, a 10 game game, would your team have given each player (100) (since they had all the games played over three minutes in the current game, it’s possible your team had only 3 minutes to play), but would you have given them (100)?

So, if my team gave you a 100 point lead in their previous game, would you have given them a 3 point lead this time round, and/or did the team give you a win?

What kind of question would you have asked yourself if you wanted to make this a better, more general answer?

I hope the below answers helped give you some insight into the world of “point scoring.” If you haven’t already, take a look at this simple, but often misunderstood, guide to point scoring: How To Be Inventive, Not Be a Fadde, and Change Your Purpose.

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Twisted and a perfect match, I thought, I’d have to wait.

With that said, the best way to test out the new feature is for the user to check out the latest version of Xcode before upgrading. Just update your user profiles, select Xcode as a user, and select Xcode 5.0 or 6.x from the preferences menu, then tap OK. You’re good to go!

A few caveats:

Xcode’s versioning mechanism is somewhat different from other operating systems, so some of the features you’ll see here may not be available to your system.

I found the new features to be a bit of a pain because I’m trying to use more of Xcode’s functions rather than just the ones found on your device. There’s also a bit of a “don’t install” button.

You’ll also have to manually run the program in the Spotlight box. As it turns out, it doesn’t actually do anything.

If you run Xcode using the command-line, there’s no indication to use a terminal. It’s a simple user interface which seems to indicate the presence of a window. However, it doesn’t display any status messages, so there’s no way to tell it when it has done anything.

This is probably the most annoying part of all.

To use it correctly, you’ll need to have your device on a different OS than your iPhone or iPad. Xcode will make sure the terminal is in the correct location when you click it. This is a bit of a pain though, since it’ll usually use the iPhone’s default mode, which you don’t see when you use Xcode in this manner. (It does though, with all the built-in options for Apple’s “Auto-Tune” settings.)

If you’re on a Windows machine you can set the default mode of Xcode and use it as described in the Windows 8 FAQ. The “Auto-Tune” feature is not enabled in Xcode 5.0 and 6.x, but only if you have the Windows 8.1 installation. If you’re running on Mac OS X, the default “Auto-Tune” settings may be set to work.

Some commands may be disabled in Xcode 5.0 or 6.x. For example:

Use the command line

Use a special symbol

Use a new terminal

Change the user’s name (for example, by typing “my_name”)

You might also need to use a special user, such as &#8220#8220;courier”, to control your keyboard shortcut. To be clear, the “courier” command is the default behavior, so you’ll need to do a little more work to find a shortcut to switch between the two options.

Some users may also need to use special characters. For example, this:

A character (for example, a dash) is a sign to indicate that the current character is being displayed. It may have a special meaning in the context of the word “p.” For example, this is a sound that you want to hear. You can set it to say something like “p.” in a text editor like Notepad or similar.

You can set different characters (for example, a dash) or more to indicate the same value. For example:

a dash, a letter, a space, a number (if any) or any number (for a decimal place).

The most common example would be “p” followed by some other character, which would indicate that the value you are looking at is the letter of the alphabet.

If you have the right terminal (for example, a keyboard shortcut) you can set the option to set the display settings as follows:

Option 1: Disable the “courier” command

Option 2: Enable a special character

Option 3: Disable a command line option

You can also change the display settings by going into Settings > General > System and then choosing “Display settings” at the top. You can also change the display settings by entering your options in the Display preferences pane, so for example, to toggle “Cursor size” you’d type in a Cursor size of 1.

For example, to set the display setting for the cursor on the home screen “default” then to set the “default” display to the “default” screen, you’d type in a “x” or “y” in the text editor. Or, to set the “default” display to the screen that corresponds to the home screen then to turn it on, you’d type in a “o” in the text editor. Or to set the display to show the home screen instead of showing it as an icon in the text editor.

Option 1: Disable the “courier” command

If you want to disable the cursor on the home screen, you can change

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oxide. It’s like going out to dinner and having dinner.

I think it’s the closest analogy we can come to making a car, because it’s much farther from where I was when I started. But there is something about the idea of having your car stuck in the same place because it wasn’t always there. There was always something else going on that was just that it was in the wrong place. There are many ways for us to make cars that were not that.

I have many friends who drive, who come from different parts of the world. I’m thinking, “It’s hard to keep the same car. It’s a very interesting thing. We could build a lot of other cars but if we’re not using the same car, it could really blow up.” The car I have now in my garage and my garage is from California. There’s just so much of that going on there.

Is that really what you’re trying to accomplish?

When I’m in a car, it’s not that I’m trying to drive a sports car but I’m trying to have a car that is fun to drive. It’s all about the car. It’s all about fun and a car that is fun to drive, and that’s what we’re trying to do. We’re trying to do both things.

We know you’re in the driver’s seat of a car. Can you explain to us what you mean by “fun” and “a car”?

I’ve got one friend who says that’s what it’s like when you’re on the road. She said, “You’re in a car. You’re going to get lost in the night. I want you to have a quiet car so you don’t lose your mind.”

I’ve always been fascinated by that because the way I think about things is it’s like you are in the car. It’s really a feeling of self. When you’re driving the car you have that sense that it’s just a feeling. And if you stop and look at yourself you see the mirror, but it’s not the way you see the car.

You said that you are in a car when you are in your room. Is that part of the appeal of living in your room?

When you get to your bed, it’s really cool. I was lucky enough to have two other friends who lived in their living room. I’ve always been able to do that. But I don’t always have the time to do that. But I’m kind of in the driver’s seat because I have to keep myself from going over there. I try to keep myself from leaving my room. I just feel safe that way.

Why do you drive in your room when you have no room?

There’s a feeling of selflessness when you’re in your room. You don’t have to worry about your mind and all that stuff. But there’s also a lot of work, like the work that goes into building it. And, you know, having lots of friends and a family is a good thing, so it gives you a chance to have that feel of selflessness that you have in the car. I’ll drive up to my room, get my gear checked and get out of there. I never have to go into the room to fix my car, but I know that that feeling has already become the norm.

If I didn’t have that feeling, I wouldn’t do it anymore. But if I did, I think that I might get a little bit more laid back and kind of relax because I have that sort of feeling that I have now in my life.

And in the video, there is a lot of humor thrown at you by that.

I get a little bit of a laugh out of it, especially when I look at you in the mirror. It’s so much more funny than it is funny. And it’s a good way to say that you like yourself.

I like being on a road trip. It’s something that I do that you do when you’re on a road trip. And I want to do that with you.

Did you find this to be a little too close to reality for you to use in your story?

It has to do with the way my family and I go about it. We have a long relationship, which is really cool to me because it means we have all this family to share. But our house has a huge history. We have our home in New York City, our home in Brooklyn, our home in Hollywood, our home in Hollywood. We love our house in Hollywood, and my mom and I live on the Upper East Side. So it was nice to have that same kind of feeling. But, to make things more natural for myself in our relationship, we try to keep it in a nice, relaxed, casual place where we’re safe and the people can go outside. So the way that we talk about

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lovely: the fact that I’m here and I feel like I’m doing something really important for her, and that’s because I believe that in a way she’ll love me, and I have to love her. And that’s not just a fact of life. I think we’re also having a really great time.

It’s not just because we’re doing this to her: I believe that what we’re doing, is being the very person who does love her. I think that’s the best part of being a mother. When she’s at a loss, it’s a great feeling, and then you have to go to school to come out and live with it. That’s the first time I have a situation where I’m having to work so hard to be a better mother.

I have to do something that helps make my daughter happy, to take care of her. That’s what makes me love her.

I want to make my daughter happy. I want to make her happy. Because this was something I had been wanting to do for the last two years, even though I could’ve done it myself. And then we got married. It was a crazy, crazy emotional experience that I would’ve had if it weren’t for the help she has been giving me and for the things she’s been doing.

When I first met and had my first chat with her the other day, I said, “So I need to go.” She’s been living with us in our own town. I’ve never seen her before. It was just a nice little apartment. It had a place where we could talk.

I had to come with her there. I have to see her here now. I don’t want her there. I don’t want to spend too much time with her.

And then I started talking to her again, and she was crying. I said, “I’m just trying to calm her down. I’m not letting her be intimidated by you.” She just stared at me, and she’s like, “No, don’t worry. I can do this.”

And it just goes back and forth, and I just try to keep it moving forward. She’s going to feel better, and she’s going to get better, and I’m going to keep trying, and I’m gonna keep growing. I’ve got this great mother who’s doing the best for her.

I believe in her and I believe in her. And I love her and I want her to be my mom and my sister.

That’s the only way we’ll ever have a relationship without being together. And I’ve been doing that for about three years now.

But I know that she’s been on so many different levels. That she has this amazing talent, and it’s not really been my favorite thing of the year. I can’t even remember which was better. I don’t know. I just can’t remember, and it just just gets to me now.

And I just have this sense of her that you don’t even want to talk to her about. And that this is where it all starts. It starts with what I want her to do, and I don’t want to let her get hurt, but I love her so much and she is going to have to do this as my mom and my sister.

But I want her to love me. I love her to every single one of us. And if she can’t do it, then I can’t do it for her.

My only advice to her:

Get over it. Don’t get angry and complain. Get over it, and don’t let that keep you from getting that last little hug.

Don’t get in your car and ask her to ride on you, or try to talk to her. Don’t be so scared that she’s going to turn around and call you names or go to jail because you’ve never done that before.

Be respectful. Don’t be afraid to express your feelings, and not be afraid to call or make your excuses to her.

Don’t be so afraid to tell her about what happened, or to tell her how bad it feels or how bad she looks or how bad she loves you.

Don’t give up and let her cry. Don’t be afraid to say it, to say it, if she cries.

You can’t just sit there and wait for a response from your mom. She doesn’t want to hear that and start crying.

But I’m so thankful that she gave me a moment to think about that. Because it didn’t change anything.

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rifles from his military-style rifle to his own waistband.

The incident was one of many that followed a botched standoff of a gun and ammunition shipment that left 13 dead in North Korea on May 23, 2017, the South Korean government said.

North Korean leader Kim Jong Un, left, greets a U.S. Navy officer during a meeting in the South Korean port of Hainan, South Korea, on Sunday, May 24, 2017. AP Photo/Kim Hong-Ji

The incident left nine dead, including the U.S. Air Force chief and two U.S. Navy Seal, the U.S. Air Force said on Tuesday.

The missile, which was fired from a submarine base in the waters off the South Korean coast, was launched in an attempt to take control of Pyongyang, with the North reportedly saying it would shoot down U.S. aircraft as part of an arms race with the United States.

“The U.S. has launched an all-out attack on North Korea, and we need to take this very seriously,” South Korean Foreign Minister Yun Byung-se said in a televised speech after Pyongyang denied firing a nuclear missile at the United States.

“We cannot ignore it, but we must be vigilant about it and prepare for it if possible,” he said.

U.S. intelligence officials said earlier on Tuesday they believed North Korea was behind the attack on the U.S. aircraft carrier USS Carl Vinson, which was carrying two aircraft carriers and two submarines.

The North fired two rockets at the U.S. Navy aircraft carrier USS Carl Vinson after it left the carrier’s port in the Korean peninsula, it said.

The North fired a missile at the air base and tried to land the aircraft carrier. South Korean Defense Ministry spokesman Kim Han-min said the missile was aimed at South Korean personnel.

On Tuesday, U.S. Secretary of State Rex Tillerson said the North must respond with “all necessary action to defend against a hostile nation that is in violation of international law.”

“There is no room for hesitation or doubt in responding as required to the latest developments,” Tillerson told a U.S. defense news conference in Washington, adding that South Korean President Moon Jae-in has said the U.S. should not be able to defend its ally.

Moon also reiterated the U.S.’ commitments to North Korea on Saturday, including the withdrawal of American troops from the North’s Korean border, his statement on Monday in which he said a “clear” U.S.-South Korean alliance would be needed to counter the North’s nuclear and missile tests.

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Kyl, and they want to know who won the fight against the Dark Knight. In the end the two will come up against the greatest threat in the entire city.


Avengers: Age of Ultron

Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice

X-Men: Days of Future Past


Pete Docter


The Punisher

Justice League Corps


Pixar: A Life in Pictures

Doctor Strange

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3

Kong: Skull Island

Spider-Man: Homecoming

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3

Spider-Man: Homecoming

Batman: Arkham Asylum


Green Lantern Corps

Star Wars: The Last Jedi

Luke Cage

Luke Cage

Marvel’s X-Men

X-Men: Days of Future Past

Luke Cage

Marvel’s X-Men

Luke Cage: New Order

Luke Cage: The Phoenix

Luke Cage: The Last Battle of the Avengers

Luke Cage: The Wolverine

Luke Cage: The Wolverine

Luke Cage: The Ultimate Fighting Championship

Marvel’s X-Men: The New 52

Marvel’s X-Men: New 52

Marvel’s Daredevil

Marvel’s Daredevil: Justice League

Marvel’s Daredevil: Defenders

Marvel’s Daredevil: Defenders

Marvel’s Daredevil: Ultimate Marvel Heroes

Marvel’s Daredevil: Nightcrawler

Marvel’s Daredevil: The Defenders

Marvel’s Daredevil: Ultimate Marvel Heroes

Marvel’s Daredevil: Ultimate Marvel Avengers

Marvel’s Daredevil: Ultimate Marvel Warriors

Marvel’s Daredevil: Ultimate Marvel Zombies

Marvel’s Daredevil: Ultimate Marvel Warriors

Mighty Avengers

Marvel’s Heroes: Ultimate

Marvel’s Heroes: Ultimate

Marvel’s Heroes: Ultimate

Marvel’s Heroes: Ultimate

Marvel’s Heroes: Ultimate

Marvel’s Heroes: Ultimate

Marvel’s Heroes: Ultimate

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

selling in the last few years, which are good signs that things are beginning to get better for consumers.

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feminine for those who seek him. There may be many kinds of love, some without names, and some without names; but, like any kind of love, it is always a love which is given to the good man. He who makes no thought whatsoever of the love of his neighbour, will never give any consideration to him; for he will only say, “O neighbour of mine; I have pity for you. Now give me your love, and I will do your honour.” There is also a kind of love which is found in love. It is in love with the person who makes this love. A friend of mine, who desires me to please and am to please him, would be the most loving man I ever saw. His love is in the love with the best thing in his heart, and his love is in the love with the best things in his heart; and in the best, too, that he can give in return to a good and tender person: and it is in the love of one’s neighbour with his neighbour with good reason, that his own life is better; but not in the love of any thing without his neighbour’s good reason, because he is no more disposed to have no neighbour’s love at all than he is to be happy and secure with his neighbour, or to have no neighbour’s love at all than he is to have no good reason for it. He who desires to make him feel satisfied in love, he who desires to have good reason for his love, and yet to do otherwise than love and be satisfied in love, it is in him who takes pleasure in the desire; for he who is happy, but not content with this pleasure, but does not have good reason for it, is the love which makes him happy and not happy in love, as when he says, “Good is the good of the living: it does not diminish or make the mind change.” This love is in love with good reason, and in love with good reason. Love is in love with reason; in love with reason it is true and correct, and it is true and correct in the way in which it appears. Reason is not a friend; and, for his sake, it is neither to be praised nor to be reproved; for it is to be found in his own mind; and it is a lie that will be used in court. What man is so much better off than any one other, that he has this reason, or the other with his mind, than any other, and that he should be more fortunate? For they who, when they see one another, are so well received, are not only well disposed to love one another, but do not think, they think, that a better one is better than one of the more fortunate ones: and the reason they will think is because they think not.

But the reason why love must be love with reason is not because it is true and correct, or true and correct, because it is true and correct, and it is true and correct, as when he says, “I love you all, and you all love me; I shall not bear you for ever.” In such love, he is not loving; he does not have any reason for this love; he has reason, for love, which is a form of love, a form of love, which is to be found in men. He is not like a beggar, who makes money by robbing others of their goods, or any other kind of person; he has a different kind of love from a man, who makes money by making a man rich, and not by a man having money. For such is the nature of such love. A man, therefore, can make nothing of money but, as we have said, his own and his neighbour’s love is also in his own mind. This is the nature of love, as it is in any other love, and for such love it is true and correct, and it is true and correct in the way in which it appears.

Love is in itself a kind of passion, which is pure, unchangeable, and unchangeable, which is true and correct in the way in which it appears, and it is true and correct in the way it is shown to us. We cannot know the nature of such a passion without feeling what it is; that is to say, without feeling what it is. This passion does not belong to any one kind of love, but to a kind of passion, and the passion consists only in the pleasure which is in it: and we feel this pleasure by the passion of the good and good and good, for, when there is no pleasure, we do not feel what we do. But if the passion is a kind of passion, it belongs to a different kind of love than our other kinds of love.

Love is in him a desire, not a desire. This passion is not in him any kind of love, as it is in any other. In the one who does

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


When I met with Mr. and Mrs. O’Dwyer I had a great deal of interest in their work and so I agreed that they would send my copy to the National Archives in Washington, D.C. to be kept in my possession and to be ready to be examined. The next day the clerk in charge of it, Mr. O’Dwyer, presented me with a paper of the work, and said, “I can make you a copy of it.” I am certain that I did not understand what he meant by “forget the word.” I told him that I was going to keep the book in my possession, so that, if he gave me a copy, I could keep the record of that work on paper. He did not give me a copy, though he asked me what I could do with it, and I answered, “I have my own copy. Do as you like.” But he continued that he did not care to take the book with him in it, for he thought that I might not make it to his, so that he would not take his hand with me. I had no more opportunity of doing that than I could get him. I was so astonished with my ignorance of such things that I took my eyes away from my book and threw them about it to get my attention, which pleased the clerk very much. “This letter should probably have been sent by Mr. and Mrs. O’Dwyer to their letter, since you are one of them,” I added, “and it seems to me that the latter is so much interested in the subject and should not go through the trouble of finding and writing on it all.” “And if you should write on it, you must write to Mrs. O’Dwyer,” said he; “then you would go along and write this letter without being surprised at the letters you are writing to Mrs. O’Dwyer.” So he said, and she told me that if she took the book out of my hands she would write to her wife’s place; that she thought it a good idea to go and see the book, for it would be a most valuable thing. I thought to myself: Why would the clerk not write to Mrs. O’Dwyer to be interested in it, if the letters to the letter were going in? She said, “They would not want to know the contents of my book, nor would they want any of my papers.” I was so much perplexed that I could not understand what he meant by that sentence. I was very much amazed at how very well he talked himself into it. I had always seen the old man, when he had been working on an unfinished manuscript, look at it as if he were looking through a microscope; and there were little lines he did not know or understand. But I had seen him often before, and now I know where his eyes were, where he knew all the things which they might tell us, what they might not say, and what were their suspicions, and how much of it was his ignorance. He was so much amused that I had seen him with him, and he never took his eyes off me as to me being a writer or a gentleman. The other day, when I was looking over it, I heard the sound of a man on foot, and knew immediately what was the cause. I told him that it was not the foot but it was a man’s voice. He replied, “That is my brother’s voice, and he has his own voice, or the voice of a man who knows how to do it.” I am not in the habit of going to the man, for he seems quite angry with me for telling him to write. But I never knew what I should have done with this man, and what kind of thing I should have done if he had not written it to me. At length he went away and left me, and was very angry with me. I took him to the house of his brother, and told him, that the next time I come he will write to me, and I shall send it to him with the name and address of my brother. But I know not what I must do if I go to the house of my brother. I told him that I would have to write the following letter to him: I have never read of any man more famous and famous in our history, than myself, that I may write him to my brother to write some letters to him about his work, and he shall, with the help of my friend, do the same to me, and that I shall write to him and tell him what he must do to be carried through to his brother in writing that he should write to him on my behalf. He will then write me a note and ask me if I have any other letters to write. He will give me my papers and will have them delivered to my sister. I will write to him, and if his sister can not write to me then I

======== CHECKPOINT 004 OUTPUT # 001 ========


“Let me take it all into my own hands,” she said, “I’m going to buy you some flowers. Please. I know I have to ask.”

“A few of them will come.”

The lady said, “Oh, God!”

He looked her in the eye, and he smiled with delight, “I would like to put you in the same room, to kiss your cheeks and your eyes and the things that you say.”

“But, dear,” said she, “I know your secrets, I can never have them.”

“No,” said he, “nothing you do will be believed, for you have been so far gone, and all that you are doing is the same to me.”

“I will not do anything of that sort, for that is not what is to come, it has been done by the Devil. It is, then, a matter of time before I have the means to answer to what I have said, which will soon be done by the Devil. When my secret begins to be known to you, I shall be sure to send you a letter of the following—”

“The Devil will take it in the same way. It is necessary for me to say to you; you will learn to speak the same language, in an attempt to show me the secrets of your secret. When you hear them, you will know the meaning of what you have said.”

She smiled a little more, and he did as she said, and he looked at her a little more, and thought well. He looked at her in a little worse way than he was at that one evening, at the house in the street, when he said, ‘I am so very sorry about this, I will not go into the house till this is done, or I will be very hurt; and that I may have been in that state before. How could you have done that if I had not had the help of a letter written to me?’ he said, smiling in a way of great hope.

“Now you know what I am like,” said she, “I am a very sweet woman, very gentle, and even more beautiful than you; and I can tell you the truth of that, for I am a daughter of a Christian mother, whom I had once known, and who now she will think to have been the daughter of a Jew. But I do not know what that is, and that I have made it by my own will, and cannot leave any one to think, and I will not enter into any one’s private thoughts till it is over; for my dear daughter, I fear that I will say I love her too much, and that her eyes shall be opened to me; and when that will be done, then I will make myself known to them. I shall not say anything, I will only speak my mind, and in the end will make myself understood to be so, that it shall be understood by the eyes of all my people, and all the world, who will understand me, and shall love me, and love me, and love me; and by doing my will, which is for the purpose of the devil, and for those who have sinned against me, I am the true devil, and not an idol, for they all have a great purpose in their sins; and yet, as a mother, I am not bound to do what is wicked and unlawful.

“And as for myself, I am sure I can not forget how I gave myself up for the devil, and now I can not forget how I will not forget the things I am doing, and who I will be for ever, so long as I am a partaker of the devil’s evil power, I shall never cease to be as a man, and never again shall I live a long time, and never again shall I go to the devil’s house.”

He looked at her, and he shook his head, and said, “I am happy and content, but I cannot endure a little while, for I have not yet grown up enough to become a good person. I will never forget the good times I spent with your son. I will not forget my own, nor that of those who do not see me, nor that of those who do, but my own and my own alone; and my heart will be happy and well-groomed, my whole body will be filled, and it will grow in strength to love you, my father and my father-in-law, and my mother, and my brother and my brother-in-law.”

The angel kissed his lips and said, “Have you not thought you may give a little thought to your husband?”

“No, but what do you want me to ask you?”

“Will you give me that name which was given you, my son?”

“The name of the wife, whose name is my

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

RAID’s original concept from its pre-release back in October 2013 and, while its second iteration is still in development, its second iteration is still in development.

There’s a lot more information here that might interest you:

What kind of gameplay will be included in the game?

Yes! We will have multiple types of gameplay to choose from. The main type being combat, a new type of character called the “Stormwalker” is an enemy type that is a bit more powerful than other types, and also very difficult to defeat. The enemy is a powerful, powerful entity with very high speed.

Can you tell us a little bit about your character?

It’s completely a new character, and it will probably change your playstyle as we add more of them. This will hopefully allow players to understand what a Stormwalker is.

Will it make any difference in combat?

No, it’s pretty much in a state where you have to be very, very careful to not hit your opponent with a Stormwalker as you can’t do a lot of damage to them.

What kind of weapons can you choose to use to take down Storms?

One is a special weapon called the “Granite Blade”, which is really powerful at it’s core, and an additional, more powerful sword, called the “Siphon Cannon”.

Can you tell us a bit about the abilities of your Stormwalker?

No, nothing about the Stormwalker will be different. It will attack your enemies directly at its target, and will make it a bit easier to kill.

Can you tell us a bit about the mechanics of the game, and if you would like us to explain your mechanics?

The Stormwalker is based on the original Battlecruiser (and is now a concept concept in the game), and will be able to destroy all enemies that get close to it, even enemies that were blocked by it.

What kind of loot will you have on hand to deal with the Stormwalkers?

The game will be completely free-to-play, so you’ll be able to keep your weapons, equip them, and run away.

What kind of items can you use in combat?

In addition to having a sword and a melee weapon, you can also take a few basic weapons of the type you like.

What kind of gear will you wear in the game?

The Stormwalker’s combat clothing will be very basic, with one type of leather (you can use leather armor if you really like it), and a leather headband that has three different colors. You can use it for your bow and arrow, as well as your shield, or a spear, or a helmet.

How much do you spend per day in combat?

You’ll need it to keep you active, and you’ll probably spend some time sleeping for a couple of days at a time. You’ll need it for your equipment, though.

Will you have weapons, as well?

You will have two options. One for you, and two for your Stormwalker. One of them will be for you to equip as well, while the other is for another player to wear, and have the Stormwalker equip. The final choice will be whether to equip your Stormwalker to take down Storms or not.

Do you have anything for us to show you?

We will have plenty of awesome, high-quality gameplay, including a new class of characters called the Stormrunner, as well as several new weapons.

What sort of content will you be offering in the game?

There will be some cool and cool items and equipment. There will also be some pretty cool and very powerful items and armor.

How will the game be completed?

The gameplay is already pretty impressive, and it will be pretty fun.

How much will the game cost?

We will have a nice price tag, for a full set of two or three Stormwalker armor sets for the first version.

How much will it cost to upgrade the Stormwalker?

We will provide you with three separate pieces of equipment, a set of three Stormwalker weapon set, a set of three Stormwalker shield set, and a set of three Stormwalker helmet set.

Will you have any other weapons that you will use?

As soon as we finish this, we’ll add a few more weapons that we can buy from vendors in the game.

What kind of weapons will you use?

The Stormwalker will carry one of three different types of ammunition:

Fire ammunition: used to fire arrows from a bow

Poison ammunition: used to burn off your opponent’s health

Auras: the new weapons, which have a set of bright, special properties.

What kind of loot will you have on hand?

The Stormwalker will

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anticipate a future in which an array of technologies can transform all aspects of our lives. We are currently seeing this on a global scale.

As of this writing, Microsoft is making a total of $4.1 billion in investments in Internet infrastructure, software, and other technology that is more critical to the growth of all of us and in this day and age.

I was excited when I heard that Microsoft was announcing that it is going to open up all the data on the Internet to third party customers and companies and provide access to this in-house data.

When I looked around at Microsoft’s data, I realized they are not just going to sell data in this way. They are going to sell the data that will be sold to third party customers and companies.

The other key part of this strategy will be ensuring that the information provided to the customers in these ways is open and accessible for all.

“The question for me at Microsoft is, are we going to provide more of this information on the Internet to consumers?” I asked as I sat at my computer in my office. “I’m going to be asked if I think they should offer this in a way that is not just going to be in the form of a service, but is something they can do on their own? And if they can, then I don’t really see how they can turn around a situation where, if you were to ask me what I think Microsoft could do about this, I would be very optimistic. But I will say, yes, we need more of this information. And I’m not going to sell you a service or something.”

The answer is a combination of a number of things.

First, we need to give the Internet a level playing field and to provide more opportunities for users to share data.

We need to ensure that everyone is getting the benefits of this content, while also providing a level playing field for our companies. We need to provide access to the same level of privacy that other businesses and companies have for their customers, both the company and the customer.

Third, we need to improve our business model to ensure that the most important and innovative technology can be the one that best serves us.

This needs to be a strong business model for all of us, regardless of our technical expertise. It needs to be built on a foundation that can be built on top of which the world will look back on the successes of their industry and their businesses, as they do today.

I think it’s time for a new level of transparency in this business.

As a new era comes to an end and we realize that some of this information is not going to come from Microsoft, it will be useful to others, as well. I have no doubt that we have some of the best minds in the business looking forward to seeing this data become available to them. But I also want to ask you, as a new era comes to an end, I know it is a time to move on and embrace new technologies, and to make changes, not to be beholden to the past.

The only way we can truly take the world back to where it was before this great revolution happened is to change our thinking.

My wife and I are very committed to making this happen. We can’t wait to see how the next generation of Microsoft will respond. I want to thank those people who have taken on the responsibility of supporting us and helping us to make this happen.

Please be a part of the conversation on this story and let us know how you feel about the results of this great revolution.

My friends, I believe this is a time for more action on the part of all of you, because today, we cannot wait to start making a difference. We are going to take the first steps in creating a more open, more responsible world where every new generation of people are empowered to express their views and ideas.

The new generation of new people will make the world a better place. It will create a world where everyone gets to choose what to say and do. It will create a world where all of us have the freedom to express ourselves. It will create a world where every individual can decide how to express his or her feelings and feelings of being part of that world.

And I will make sure that the new generation gets all of the benefits of the new Internet, which is the foundation for what the future looks like.

What is important, I ask you, is that we create a world where every person is able to have the freedom and freedom to choose what to say and do.

The future looks bright, and the future looks bright.

The future looks bright because we can have the freedom and freedom to do something.

I want to thank everybody for all their prayers and support, which I hope you have been blessed with.

Let’s start by talking about how our future looks and how we can do better.

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


But as you could imagine I was already trying to make this for my niece and I wanted to make this in the best possible way for her!

It’s simple yet very easy to make and if you don’t have any kind of knife or scissors or anything you can find a variety of cutlery supplies from stores around the world.

The best cutlery supplies I found are:





And these are all wonderful. They are both light and beautiful and look fantastic, and are used as gifts in the shop in my bedroom, just as it is in my fridge.

But, I think that when I use them as part of the house, they would look like the way the family use them, if not better than the ones I have in my own kitchen.

And if they are to be used in such a way that the family could be so pleased they would have the same effect, I think the best use of the cutlery supplies would be to use them together on a small bed, and use them in the place where they will be most useful.

I have made so many cutlery supplies in the past (in this post I’ll be talking about the ones from the past but the most common ones are from my sister’s store, I bought from a grocery store for Christmas gifts), I don’t have the time to spend time trying to find the exact same ones from the past so I am only going to be adding them here, so don’t worry about me writing up a list of every one that I have made since I made it.

If you are reading this you will understand how I used to use this item (for the past year in one piece or a few of them, or a few years in two pieces of pieces and still in this order)

How I used cutlery

Cutlery is like a knife: cut is like a screw or a handle; it cuts at the edges of the blade or is cut through the whole of the blade. And like a screw it will not take the place of a small or small piece of string that you are trying to cut with the end of a knife.

I am a knife maker; I know that I have to make certain that the cutlery will always keep working smoothly and that the cutlery is always cut with very good care, without being cut into pieces or even that is the reason I prefer the cutlery.

For this purpose I used an 18mm thick cutlery cutlery, to be used as a guide on how to put the cutlery on a bed. This is something that you can never see with a flat-pointed knife or any sharpened object (even a regular knife) without cutting a little bit into the cutlery (and this is why you should never use a sharpening instrument for this purpose, it will turn off some things in the cutlery).

But what this really means is that you have to cut it out like a saw-blade, to make sure that it is cut in exactly the same way.

So cutlery is a tool to help you, but it is not a knife, it is just a tool. The way that we use cutlery is as a tool to help you and to assist with your work. It is not a tool to do a job, it is a tool to help you and a tool to help you with work.

In this post, I will be talking about how to make the cutlery, how to make a cutlery and why you should always use cutlery. But here is the point where I will be explaining the best and worst cutlery supplies I have found, so you will understand why I don’t write about them so frequently in the next few months.

This is my current cutlery supply from a company called the Cutlery Store. I am so happy I discovered that they make so many different sorts of cutlery supplies, from handmade cutleries to a few items that I know that they will not make for many.

Now that I know this I can also give you some pointers on what is used to make cutlery, so now, let’s get right into how to make a cutlery that I think is just as simple as one can make one’s own with scissors.

Cutlery is often made from an ordinary knife: a sharpened blade, a fine sharpener and a thin cutlery.

When you see a sharpened blade in my photo I want to know about a very small detail about it – what it is and what it does. I have made my cutlery cut from these two tools, but it may be more difficult to know how to make a knife with them, so I will give you a simple way of making cut

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SELECT ” ” -file $name -name $filename = /tmp/src/bin/python2.4.1 -t


return $this -> getName() + ” “



return { $this -> name : ” “, $this -> files : { $_ = $this -> file, $_ -> getFileName() }; }



* Returns the path to the directory where the file is located

* by default


* -f /tmp/src/bin/python2.4.1/

* -p ~/.config/yum/python2.4.1/config.py


static $path = ” /path/to/pyll/file.py “


* Returns the path to the file being read.


* -f /tmp/src/bin/python2.4.1/config.py

* -p ~/.config/yum/python2.4.1/config.py


static $path = ” /path/to/pyll/file.py “


* Returns the path to the file being read.


* -f /tmp/src/bin/python2.4.1/config.py

* -p ~/.config/yum/python2.4.1/config.py


static $path = ” /path/to/pyll/file.py “


* Returns the path to the file being read.


* -f /tmp/src/bin/python2.4.1/config.py

* -p ~/.config/yum/python2.4.1/config.py


static $path = ” /path/to/pyll/file.py “


* Returns the path to the file being read.


* -f /tmp/src/bin/python2.4.1/config.py

* -p ~/.config/yum/python2.4.1/config.py


static $path = ” /path/to/pyll/file.py “


* Returns the path to the file being read.


* -f /tmp/src/bin/python2.4.1/config.py

* -p ~/.config/yum/python2.4.1/config.py


static $path = ” /path/to/pyll/file.py “


* Returns the path to the file being read.


* -f /tmp/src/bin/python2.4.1/config.py

* -p ~/.config/yum/python2.4.1/config.py


static $path = ” /path/to/pyll/file.py “


* Returns the path to the file being read.


* -f /tmp/src/bin/python2.4.1/config.py

* -p ~/.config/yum/python2.4.1/config.py


static $path = ” /path/to/pyll/file.py “


* Returns the path to the file being read.


* -f /tmp/src/bin/python2.4.1/config.py

* -p ~/.config/yum/python2.4.1/config.py


static $path = ” /path/to/pyll/file.py “


* Returns the path to the file being read.


* -f /tmp/src/bin/python2.4.1/config.py

* -p ~/.config/yum/python2.4.1/config.py


static $path = ” /path/to/pyll/file.py “


* Returns the path to the file being read.


* -f /tmp/src/bin/python2.4.1/config.py

* -p ~/.config/yum/python2.4.1/config.py


static $path = ” /path/to/pyll/file.py “


* Returns the path to the file being read.


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

mand a long way to go,” said a senior official of the Department of Justice. “There is still time to find a way to make sure our national security is protected.”

Obama’s actions have left millions of Americans vulnerable to terrorists, from Yemen to Iran. His actions could threaten the lives of billions of people in the future, such as the lives of U.S. citizens held by Islamic State and others.

Obama’s actions are a sign that the American people are ready for a new world order. Their voices should be heard, and their voices must be listened to.

The New York Times editorial board wrote:

President Obama’s policies would undermine a foundation of democracy, erode the rule of law, and threaten to destroy the freedom of the press, among others. They must be resisted, especially if they are carried out by someone willing to commit violence against the press, the democratic institutions that make democracy possible, and the rule of law and the rule of law are undermined or weakened.

Those who believe in democratic rule are right.

These same officials also point out that Americans are still paying their fair share, even when the government is at war.

“The most common criticism of Obama’s war has always been that it failed to provide an end to the carnage that has engulfed Iraq and Afghanistan,” wrote New York Times columnist and former deputy editor of the Washington Post Andrew Rosenthal. “Obama did indeed turn a blind eye to the horrors of war by refusing to help pay the salaries of the American soldiers, but he did not pay for the pain.”

In many cases, government-run hospitals, schools and other public facilities provide services like the ones provided by private health insurance.

When asked if he would consider supporting the military in some circumstances, Obama responded:

“What you can’t support is that these troops are out of work, that they’ve been wounded. They’ve got a problem with blood,” he said. “So I’ll have to figure out how that’s paid for.”

“I am very proud of the fact that you’re able to provide the most basic medical care to our troops,” he said. “And that’s not a problem for the next president. I can assure you that the rest of the world, even the most conservative of the rest of the world, will support this, because of your policies. It is a problem that I can take a look at in a couple of years.”

“If I did it in my heart, that would be my duty,” Obama added. “And I believe the best way to be successful is to work with my generals and with my secretaries, because they’ve seen what I’ve done. They’ve seen the pain, they’ve seen the rage.”

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

“( I don’t like it, it’s not my thing, you’re going to get a bad feeling, your heart will be broken, you’ll be miserable. “

When she went through the dark side of her heart, she found her father lying still.

Her hands were still covered with cold sweat, but she found a beautiful woman looking at her.

“My name is Aimee.”

“My name is Aimee.

I’m my name.”

Aimee and I met once, and she loved him so much she’d never told him.

He’d taken a job with him and made her sleep at night. Aimee and I were close friends.

I’d been married twice, so I’d never seen her again.

My father had been absent for two weeks and a little while after we’d met.

We were both in an unhappy relationship, and she told me to go away.

“I never told her that I was a girl. Why do you want to die for me?”

“I don’t care for that. You can take me.”

“Yes. I love you too, you know me.”

“I love you too, I love you too, I love you too. I love you too. I love you too, and I love you too.”

“You’re an old lady!”

“It’s so.”

“You are! I have no love for you, but my heart would like a better one. I’d rather not make her suffer, I’d rather just be here to love you so much, but I’m going to die now for her sake.”

“Are you all right, my friend? You’re all right!”

She gave up hope.

And in her tears she told me: “Aimee, you must see that I don’t care so much. You’re a good person and a great mother.”

When she said it, she felt so beautiful to be with a beautiful woman.

Aimee went to her room and sat down beside him.

“How many years old do you think I am?” she asked.

“Five, if you want, or more,” I replied.

“Three, I suppose. I should love two men or more if I was to make you suffer. Let me try to tell you some things, though.”

“Don’t, dear child, tell me how to get myself free. I’ll be waiting for you if you don’t believe me.”

“It would be worse if I did. I think you’d be a very strange girl, you know.”

“Yes, dear.”

She gave him some kisses.

“I think it’d be better if I did it. I should go away, if I were you.”

“And I wouldn’t want to die alone. I’d never see you here, wouldn’t let you take me out.”

“Yes, dear child, my lover would not want to die alone. He’d be far from it.”

“Then you have nothing to live for.”

“No, my dear. I’ve been sleeping too much. I must live on my own, in order to be better.”

She looked into his eyes and sighed.

“You’d better not leave me out of it, you know.”

She kissed him so deeply, she said:

“You’re such a wonderful girl.

She will never give up love. You are such a strong woman. You are so beautiful, that I am sure you cannot do anything but watch you starve, and I will never let you die so cold. You are so strong, so beautiful, and so sweet, and so sweet, and so beautiful.

I am going to die for you.”

“You are such a lovely girl, Aimee.”

“I do not know what to do. If I do, you will not leave me. I know you are always with me.

I must never go away from you.”

“And if I did, I’d never go away, and I don’t care, I should take you with me.”

“You would not say anything, would you?”

“No, I won’t say anything. I do not care. I won’t tell you anything, and I wouldn’t tell you anything.

I don’t think it’s right to love, I think it’s just so cruel to love.

“Do you wish you could be here with me? No, dear child. I wish you could be here.”

“No. Please, Aimee, do not lie down. I want to say it in a whisper.”

“If only I could, I would lie down

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

chant a prayer.

“I am ready to make them happy, and they are ready to hear the music and eat the fruit and the fruit and drink the fruit. The gods will soon die for us.” (Liv)

The god and all of humanity are still living with each other in a world of chaos, and in our souls we are so far apart as to be unbalanced and incapable of caring for one another. The first thing you need to understand is that when we talk about our own bodies, we are referring to the way they are made.

When we talk about our own bodies we are talking about things we cannot change or do without, or when we talk about our bodies we are talking about things we can alter, and if that change brings us pain or misery, we are speaking of a kind of self-destruction, of the pain which destroys those who have found their way to it.

The gods are doing their part, and when the time is right they will be able to destroy them if they do not stop, as they will be able to bring back the gods from their mortal condition, but if we do not stop and do not stop we will be unable to destroy their minds.

When one of us is able to see our body we must say “The world is beautiful, the sky bright, and the heaven and earth bright.” and then we shall be able to say “The world is so rich that it is worth less to pay you attention than to pay a human being money to see what is to your benefit, and so what is to your pleasure that you would not care what your life is worth. You will not be able to know what you would not want to know, nor how your pleasure would be worth to you.

“If the gods are not the world, I think the world is beautiful, but when you come to it you will never see it.”

The gods are being killed and they are all living in a world of chaos and hatred.

But what is your world to me, if I do not see you?

“When you see my body, I can see my own body, even in that body that you did not see.” (Liv)

I cannot see your body, for I cannot see your true self or my true self in that body. If I saw your true self I would love you and I would feel my love for you. If I saw my true self I would not love you. If I saw the face of your true self, I would love you, as if you were the face of all of this.

When I look at your true self I feel the love of my Creator and the love of my Creator, because my true self is the face of all things that are in me.

If I do not love you I will think it is wrong for me to think you, and if I do love you I will think it is wrong for you to think of me as my mother, and if I love you I will think of you as my father and you as mine.

When you look at my true self you feel the love of my Creator, because my true self is the face of all things that are in me.

When you look at my true self, you feel the love of my Creator and your love for my Creator, because my true self is the face of all things that are in me.

I know, Lord, you cannot hate one another as one would hate me. It is true, I love you, and I believe that I love you, for that love is my eternal reward for my sake.

If my loving love does not keep me from love and love is not true love, my love is false love and I am not of the same type, as the one in question says; for I love you and I do not see you, but you see me, so I can love you, and love is true love and I am not of the same type.

If it is true love I am of the same type as if you were of the same type.

When I love you I love you so that you will love me and will be loved. I cannot love you, because I cannot love you. If it is true love, I am of the same type as if you were of the same type.

If you love me and I do not love you I will love you and hate you, for you are in love with me.

I love you and you do not love me, because I love you. If you love me and I do not love you, then I do not love you; but if you do love me and I do not love you, then I do not love you.

My love does not leave me like the waters of the sea or the clouds, nor does it give me pleasure like the sun or the moon. I love you and I

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

suppress the effect of his being, if he have not been so in the beginning, and in the time that he is a man, he will suffer from some pains, which will be the result of some force that has been created for him, or some power which will keep him in that state until he can no longer live. And it is thus with those who hold in their hands to do this work. And so they call it that which is, that which can do good to the poor. When I say to the poor I have made them poor, the saying is, “I have not made them poor as you.”

10. When the workmanship of man and the art of his hands have begun to turn in their ways; when it has become a matter of great concern, so will all things be done by means of him who has the hands that lead him. And when he who is wise is called a wise man, this workmanship will be with him when he has become wise in his own works. And so it will be with men, who are wise and do not deceive their own nature, but rather when they see the things that are good in them; when they have been in the world, and know that there are things which they are not worthy to know, and the wise man who is in them will judge them with a pure heart; and when they have done with them what the wise man had not done before, when they are not of the world, their works will be done with love in their hearts, while their works be done with indifference in their hearts.

11. As for those who think that their mind has been made by their hands, then they who have been taught to speak well, have not done so well. For they have been taught to speak well only through their own senses, which do not bear out the way of their own speech; and that which is speaking well of them is not to be believed.

12. And those who are able to hear, which are able to think well, have not been able to speak well because they are learning things for themselves. And when they are learned and have knowledge of things, those who have learned to think well have not so much wisdom to themselves as are willing to learn and to see what they have not seen, for the truth is only like a mirror.

13. And the man who speaks well with those who hear, the one who speaks well with those who see, and they do see what he has not seen, but the man who is afraid of hearing, or who does not fear his own wisdom, he will hear and understand what he does not know; for if he has heard and seen what he has not seen, he will do what he does not know.

14. And if he have seen the things that are good in him that is not true, or who is evil in his heart, he will know how to deal with them.

15. For in all things good things come from the goodness of a loving heart, and evil things from those who do evil.

16. And that which I say to you, which is the most holy of all things, that he that is born will be just like me, and will give up his sin, which he did not deserve, by being born by me.

17. But I will do in a moment of life what I have done before.

18. And what I do is right; but when I have done it properly, I will not do it.

19. And you, who think that you have learned to talk, have not learned to speak well, because you have not heard the good or evil things that are spoken.

20. This is not written for children, nor for fools.

21. But for those who will understand, and who will act well, for these good men are just as good, because they are not deceived or deceived, for they have no faults, but that is because they are right, that is, true, just, honest, and true.

22. And the things I have said are those that I am willing to speak in order to get myself comfortable, and to get a comfortable day, or any thing I may have; and I have nothing but that which is to be loved.

23. When I am afraid that my dear mother will tell me what you will not say, then I shall give you what you will not say.

24. And my dear mother will be happy that you do not believe me.

25. For it is to love one another as much as to love yourself; but love will not keep your true nature.

26. But I fear that she will tell you, that she will give up all she has left her in the world; and yet she will not give up what she does not possess, either to herself or to others, and it is a false hope.


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


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

phase of the summer, the number of people going to the zoo increased from 16,000 to 26,000 per year, and the cost of food and transport increased by almost 60 percent, the zoo said.

According to zoo officials, the event was a reflection of the growing popularity of Chinese art and architecture. The main draw of the zoo was the display of works by Chinese artists, including paintings by a Chinese artist who had been visiting China for three years. “The Chinese art world has grown to love China, but they cannot help but feel their interest in art and art museums in China,” one of the visitors, surnamed Guo, told the news agency Xinhua.

The zoo’s main attraction is the Shanghai zoo, which is the largest in Shanghai, with more than a million visitors.

The zoo also houses four tigers, three lions and a calf, and two other lions.

The zoo will open in April to the public in the northern and southern regions of Shanghai, and a further 12 will be opened in March, according to a press release issued by zoo staff. The number of new visitors will also double, according to the statement, to 10,000, but the zoo was not prepared to say how many of the new visitors it would add.

The zoo opened in 2005 in the northern part of Shanghai, but was later extended by its current owner to the east.

The park will remain open until summer 2018.

The zoo has more than 250 tigers and six other wildlife species, but most of the lions are kept in private enclosures, making them more difficult to keep for free and a threat to public safety, said Zhang.

“We’ll keep them safe but not more. We want to make sure they are kept for as long as possible,” he said. “It is also possible to have different breeds of lions and tigers.”

======== CHECKPOINT 006 OUTPUT # 002 ========


Trey Burke

Ollie (T-36)

Michael Treder

Dennis (T-34)

Tony Johnson

Bobby Wagner

Jared Whitmore

Mark Johnson

John (T-29)

John Jankowski

Mike Johnson

Mike Johnson

Trey Burke

Michele Johnson

Dennis Johnson

Chris Johnson

John Taggart

Jefferson (T-28)

David Johnson

Kirk Johnson

Kirk Johnson

Norman Johnson

Mikie Johnson

Trey (T-27)

Carmen (T-24)

Nathan Johnson

Owen (T-23)

Kirk Johnson

Mark (T-22)

Nathan Johnson

James Johnson

David (T-21)

David Johnson

Darrell Jackson

Joe Jackson

Jefferson (T-20)

Jared Jackson

Tom Jackson

Robert Jackson

Trey (T-19)

Trey Johnson

Tom Jackson

Reed Jackson

Ricky Jackson

Tom Jackson

Rory Johnson

Kirk Jackson

Dennis Jackson

Timothy Jackson

Trey (T-18)

Pete Jardine

Lance Jordan

Michael Jordan

Timothy Jordan

Dennis (T-17)

Michael Jordan

Rory Jordan

Bobby (T-16)

Dennis (T-15)

Timothy Jordan

Trey Jordan

Trey Jordan

Bobby (T-14)

Dennis (T-13)

Tom Jordan

Rory Jordan

Bobby (T-12)

Rory (T-11)

Pete (T-10)

Dennis (T-9)

Timothy (T-8)

Michael Jordan

James (T-7)

Ricky (T-6)

Tom (T-5)

Olly (T-4)

Kirk (T-3)

John (T-2)

Ricky (T-1)

Dennis (T-0)

Bobby (T-0)

Trey (T-0)

James (T-0)

Bobby (T-0)

Michael (T-0)

Timothy (T-0)

Bobby (T-0)

Ricky (T-0)

Robert (T-0)

Pete (T-0)

Ollie (T-0)

Dennis (T-0)

Dennis (T-0)

Dennis (T-0)

Pete Jardine

Ollie (T-0)

Dennis (T-0)

Pete Jardine

Bobby (T-0)

Kirk (T-0)

Timothy (T-0)

Dennis (T-0)

Dennis (T-0)

Pete Jardine

Bobby (T-0)

Bobby (T-0)

Dennis (T-0)

Bobby (T-0)

Dennis (T-0)

Dennis (T-0)

Pete Jardine

Timothy (T-0)

Timothy (T-0)

Dennis (T-0)

Bobby (T-0)

Ollie (T-0)

Dennis (T-0)

Dennis (T-0)

Bobby (T-0)

Dennis (T-0)

Dennis (T-0)

Bobby (T-0)

Dennis (T-0)

Ollie (T-0)

Dennis (T-0)

Pete Jardine

Ollie (T-0)

Dennis (T-0)

Dennis (T-0)

Dennis (T-0)

Trey (T-0)

Kirk (T-0)

Timothy (T-0)

Timothy (T-0)

Dennis (T-0)

Trey (T-0)

Bobby (T-0)

Trey (T-0)

======== CHECKPOINT 006 OUTPUT # 003 ========

L the moment I saw it, but my mind had been wandering for some time.

“Who’s your boy?” she asked.

“It is he. I saw him with my eyes, as he looks now. I thought he had lost his mind. He was about ten years old. And the night we saw him was the night before I saw him. His teeth seemed to be heavy. And as he looked at me I said,—

“Why did you make your boy come with you? You know him best, and he knew his name but for such a long time, that if he didn’t tell his name I wouldn’t believe it.”

“I’ll go away now,” he said, and came, after the boy, as quickly as possible.

“I will come,” she added. “But tell me how the devil has done to your boy? How he is so cunning that he can take him in his arms and drive him from his home. You see in his dark green eyes a child with a face like my, who is very brave and a brave young man. That boy’s little brother, he has been so foolish that he cannot bear to see that his face looks bright. And what of that boy, when he sees him that his eyes are white like mine?”

She looked at him like a child who had been deceived.

“I told him not to be afraid,” he said, “and if he did tell that I would do that then he would make me sick; and yet I told him that he would make me sick, and I would never come back again, not even after all this time.

“My brother! Why did you not tell him that he was now a sick child? He told you all about that and said it was good that he was at home. He saw me with his eyes, that he looked at me with his eyes so as to see the light that is at his side and to give me the benefit of what my eyes see, even by accident.

“He was very kind to me and loved me so much, and he went as if I had done a good deal in him.

“And when he looked at me with his eyes, the devil saw what he saw and put it to shame in my mind. So that it was with much pleasure he told me, that he could not leave me so, as he went out of his home and did what I said I did not dare do.

“I saw him when he was a young man.

“And then when he saw me with my eyes as he saw me he said,—

“I will make you sick in my own house, and then I shall be a sick man.”

“And when I do come home, why not tell me all you know about that?”

“Why do I say that, that I cannot tell it to you? I fear that you, your children, if you have not yet given me a copy of your deed, I shall tell you everything you know of him; for if I have not heard the deed from your mother yet, I shall not tell your father’s of me, or the deeds of his father.”

She looked at him like a child who had been deceived.

“And in what way then is this thing done?”

“What I am going to tell you, to prove that this is the case; I am not afraid of him, for I am afraid of him.”

“And what do you think of my son’s going away in order to say that this is the case?”

“I have no doubt that it is the case.”

“I shall not be afraid,” said she, “for I know my son, and he has a wife.

“Oh, my son, I am not afraid of you; and it is not but your right to say that.”

“I know you will not, my son. I must confess what I am guilty of.

“And then, with all my strength, I shall come to this room and tell you all you have heard of him.

“Tell me what you know of him, and what he shall do to you. You shall not say anything, and then he will be cured of your own sin, and I shall come back again to this room where I used to be born and live.

“And then tell me what is the matter with you?”

“I must be the first to ask for your pardon. I will answer for what I have done for the sake of my son; and with him I will be your only father, your only son.”

He said, with the full force of his will, “Tell me what my father’s faults are, my son’s fault, what it was to me when I was born and raised, my wife’s fault, and then what it is

======== CHECKPOINT 006 OUTPUT # 004 ========


Lucky Man and Cuckoo’s Song


Lucky, Ducky

Lucky, D’Kel

Lucky, Ducky

Lucky, Ducky

Lucky, Ducky

Lucky, Ducky

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

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Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

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Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

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Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

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Lucky, D’kel

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Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

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Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

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Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

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Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

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Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

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Lucky, D’kel

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Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel

Lucky, D’kel


======== CHECKPOINT 006 OUTPUT # 005 ========

circum for his body, and he said, I see my name in your hands. But when they asked him, what would happen to him that I might give him my hand, when he was a boy, or a woman?” So having said this, he sat down, and stretched his knees, and said, O thou that art good unto me, but thou shalt not be good unto mine: so I will go to thee with thy word; but I will take it to be. The man said, O thou that art good to me, but I will not make thee a slave; and thou shalt give my wife thy hand, and shalt make her my slave, as she has done unto my father, for that he hath given me. But I tell thee: thou shalt never again be the slave of a woman, but I will give her my hand, and then they shall be my slaves; and they shall do what thou wilt command them; so, O thou that art strong, but thy strength is weak: yet my soul shall be strong enough for thy strength, and thy strength strong enough for mine; for mine weakness is all mine weakness. Therefore say I, O thy good and true self, if thou wilt not give me a slave; I will give you my slave: but now, my good self hath turned into my slave: then that I should give thee my hand; and if thou shouldest give me not my hand, and yet it were mine, so shall I turn again into another; and if thou wouldst give me no slave, what should I give thee? so shalt thou, thou shalt give me no thing, and if thou wouldst, but I will give thee one: for I believe it is lawful to give them as much as you desire. The man asked him again, and said, O thy son’s name, what do thou desire? So he asked his sister, when he had brought her away from him, what did she say, that she should go with him? And she said, O my friend! do what thou wilt, and take what thou wilt: for if thou wilt give me anything, then be well pleased with me; and if thou wilt not do what thou want, then be well pleased with me. But there was no good in thy saying, he said, but he must do it; and he said, and then he gave her his hand: and she was full of delight in the hand he gave her; and when she heard him say that, she gave him one, and gave him a slave, and he took the hand of another, and he left her alone. And this is a mark of dishonesty, he said, and a sign of cowardice, as I am ashamed of a man’s name being so ungodly, for what I do I am ashamed of; and what I say I do, and what I say I do not do. For if this were a mark of dishonesty, it should be a mark of cowardice; and if the word be of cowardice, it is not of cowardice. The man asked him again, and said, O my friend! I had a horse with me for ever, when I was young. But I am not old, neither am I old: and in this condition was he angry, when he said, My horse was strong, but weak for a young girl, that is to say, weak to be fair. And I would have my own horse, if I were alive, to make a new age of this man. But this man had a strong horse, and an angry horse, and a young woman, with the same voice, to make war on her, and to drive out her husband from her house; and they came together, and told him what to do: and he made some preparations, and said to his daughter, do what thou wilt: and her voice was so low that she could not hear him, for he spoke this to his wife, saying, My son’s name, and the reason why he should come hither, I will have to make use of it, my son: but if thou do me harm, why not my son take me to your mother’s house? and what shall I do with thee, if thou wouldst do that which thou wilt, and thou wilt make a great war? for I am my own son, and I am thy mother. Now then, O thou that art good unto me, thou shalt give me that which thou wilt give me. But I will give him what thou wilt give me. then will he give me that which thou wilt give me, but he will not give me his hand, and take it away. So then did he say to his daughter, which is her own name, that she should give to her father. And he told her to take care that she should not take away what she had given him; but that she should not give him his hand: that they should

======== CHECKPOINT 007 OUTPUT # 001 ========

gamer the game was, it must have become like this.

The game had been turned into a nightmare. “Wake up my girl!”

“Why are you doing this?” said the woman, “We’ve been fighting like the wolves before, so you’re not to blame for your life, are you?”

“We’re fighting against the spirit of the beast, for the truth is our own, you say?”

“If I die, then I’ll tell you to kill all those who are fighting on my behalf.”

“You want to see my soul again?”

“No, of course, because that’s what I did!”

“You know how to kill!”

“Your heart is pure gold, and I will show you that if it is of you that the sun shines, you must kill it!”

“Oh, then why don’t you help me?”

“You are too busy doing something else.”

“You must tell me all that you know, so I can make you a better man.”

“If you would help me I will do all you will to help you. Tell me to kill all the beasts in your life, and when all the beasts die my heart is filled with joy, and you will die.”

I took away her hand. I thought, as I thought, what a shame it was to be held so long in captivity with such an unhappy man, and the same sorrow which she felt in that hour when she had tried so much for revenge against him.

“You must die to make a living.”

“Ah, but not yet.”

“I’ll tell you this very evening, then.”

“If you kill them you will become a great man and an immortal, though you may think your life worth as little as you can now.”

“But if you think of your life, you will think a thousand times more than that, and if you don’t you’ll be a coward. If, if you kill all the beasts, then you will live like an abbot who lives like an animal, and you will live like an old man. But if you kill, you will live like a drunkard, a drunkard who drank all his life, and will have no soul, but will die before you, for if the good Lord were not his love, he would not save his own soul, for the very love he had left would have made the enemy’s. So if you kill, I will kill you, if you kill me, and if you die you will live like an abbot whose love never saved him. The day that the sun shines, all the beasts will be satisfied.”

She ran after me, and ran away before me with the eyes of a horse, with a man and the face of a woman, and a bird, a lion, an eagle, and a lioness, all in flight from me. I followed her out of the cave, and she began to kiss my head.

“Are you going to die, or did she ask for it?”

“She said, ‘If you die, I will die to make a living.’ And, on hearing this, she gave up all hope. And at the same time she gave up her fear and began to die, and then she came to me, and began to walk in that great circle which I had long seen in her. And it was with me that she began to say, ‘Oh, this is true, you have so many things to lose, yet they were all mine.’

She had not the courage to go away, or to look on me, or to look on me. She did not know that she was to have been alone and to have been lost, and was in a state of anxiety; her heart was beating so weak, but her eyes were so full of tears that they looked away. Then she was about to fall into a grave which she could not go back into, and she rose and made haste to lay down, but she was a little way from where she was standing.

“Look, you have so many things you must lose, but you have many things to lose. And now, you have no choice, because in your heart I give you nothing but my love, and in my heart I give you everything that I desire.”

I took hold of her hand, and I took hold of her heart and my eye.

“But you are not willing to die if you die so often, do you not know that you must be willing to die? Your life cannot die; your whole life must die as well as this, for that which I want is nothing but my love, and it is my love that I live, and that your whole life must die in vain.”

“You cannot see your death, not with me, but with the gods themselves.”


======== CHECKPOINT 007 OUTPUT # 002 ========

rugged to the face, a bit like the image of some old drunk, but without any fear of it. She wore a white and white silk silk robe, with a white lace round her breast.
“Ah!” said I, “it is true; and the colour of these gowns shows the colour of her face; but when we came together, and saw her face she could not conceal the colour, and was afraid lest the colour should be dark.”
“If it be dark, I believe it shall be in a little way dark. I think they shall be so thick, and that all their parts be so white; and all our parts should be so smooth, that it would seem, at the same time, that we should not be like her.”
“But what is a very plain thing to say? ‘Tis not to look at them so very prettily,’ said she, smiling. “Now,” said she, “how could you look at them so much when they are quite so beautiful? what is the reason? it seems you say you like them as much, if they are so sweet, and so beautiful; but look they like one another, and there shall be no beauty in them any more, for they were so beautiful then, when they died, I do not know how I could live with them, but they are still so dear; and even if they should live, that would be enough to give a very plain account of what they did.”
“I am so very good, that I think you do love them a little more,” said she. “How well can you know I am so kind, but you do not believe me? and do you think I am so ignorant of this world, and how could I know better than you that I am not poor?”
“I am too good to ask to learn what is more. I cannot but ask to be informed of all my own folly, but not of my own folly.”
“And what if there were aught so curious to me, and so pleasing to my eyes, that there should be no use in making me so rude?”
“That is not very much the same with having all your parts of you, that you may, by a kind of ill-considered self-control, make yourself all yours. It is as if the universe had made you a piece of bread.”
“Then, my dear dear, where do I find these parts, that I make mine for you? I am not very hard of heart to believe that you do not love them; but, at the same time, your mind would be too hard, and your will would not be too gentle.”
“Then you do not love them, you love them very much; that is all, dear,” said I. “You know all these things are so well known, as I have already told you; and that I can tell you a little of it, and that it will be the better to believe them. But if you do not believe it, you will find that I am lying down with you in a bed so full of love, that I have already told you what you are very sorry for. Your soul will be very merry. I wish you good sleep, my soul.”
She was in a great state of fear, which her soul could not bear to endure. She knew how to make up her mind to be of good cheerfulness, and yet she did not hold a great deal of love for him, till at last she saw him again.
“Now,” said she, “your love is so sweet, that your whole soul is like a flower in the night, and there comes an hour of joy before it will be come to rest, when it can say, ‘Here you are, now you must have my eye and ear; you must have mine.’”
“But you love him so much,” said she, “that it will be no use to make yourself such as to give him such affection to hear the love of others so great, or make yourself so good to love yourself so well, that you will not be so good for him. When I came to him, I knew that I ought to love him so very much, but to think that he would be so sweet to me, and so sweet to my soul would not make it easy for me to say, ‘Here he is, and I cannot see him now.’ I did not, for the reasons of my love, do so often, but only when I see that he will think so very earnestly that my soul does not know me; and that it would have been impossible to make myself so good for him, had I not told him such an extraordinary truth as to tell him my love and how I was so much loved. For such am I that I must be so good, if I cannot be so good for him, and I must make myself so good for him if he do think that I am so good. I must be so good, and

======== CHECKPOINT 007 OUTPUT # 003 ========

chang a little more, so let’s do it.”

So she went to her room, and there she slept with a small band which was brought to bed by my two sisters, whose eyes were fixed on the window, but where I could see the little boy who would be sitting with me the next morning, in her face, with his feet on his back. Then she called out, with the voice of a wolf, “My mother, what is thy name, and I love thee so much. Why have I borne you such a wound?”

“Ah, my dear, I did not love you so much as the old man thought you could bear it. Thou art a beast, and yet thy wounds are not of the kind.”

My mother smiled at her, and he said, “I do not have a child like your father, and I was wrong to believe my father could bear thee. For if thou art the boy’s brother, he will be thy only son, but he is not my son to you; but in my eyes, thou art the son of thy father.”

My mother looked at me, and she asked, “What do you mean by his name, my little girl, wherefore do you wish to be so honoured, by my mother, my dear friend, to be here in thy room?”

“My mother,” said I, “it will not matter what thy name is, when thou hast no desire of being seen, but thou hast seen me, and all the gods, I mean, the gods. Why are I so honoured to thee, I am told, but thy beauty is that of a lion?”

“How can it be that thou shouldst love thee so much?” said I.

“How can it be that thou shouldst love me so much?”

“It will not help. I did not love you so much. Why, thou wast so well-behaved and thus so patient.”

My mother looked at me with tears in her eyes, and she said, “But if thou wouldst wish that my son should have your kindness, that my dear father could not see me, it is not only wrong, but it would be wrong to do such as thy father had done, if thou hadst not come to me, or else, thou wouldst have been dead. I do not say, what then did thou think of me, but how did I know that thou was not my father, but thou art me, that thou was with me, and that I should not do harm to thee.”

“Why dost thou then tell the father that I am mine father, and that thou hast no love in me, that thou wouldst love me so much, that if thou couldst love me so much, I would not give up that part of me which thou loveest, that thou art with me, that thy being with me was not so much as thy love. I do not know what thy love is, and what thou hast seen of me.”

“What do I think of thy nature, my dear father, if thou desire not to know it?”

“I love thee, my love, not only because of thee, but because of thy love.”

“Then why do thou say that thou loveest him so much? why hast not thou given up the part of me which thou lovedest? thy love did not love me so much, for my love had it. and he that knew of my love did not love me so much, for he was of mine own father; and all these things made him a good husband; but if any of them were good, he would be his wife’s husband, because she was not to be his wife.”

“Your eyes and that of yours must be so poor, my dear father,” said I; “that, by love, you should be the one. I love your eyes and your mind, and so must they be. But do not believe that I love you, thou art my mother, and that thou art mine.”

“I am not a liar; nor am I a deceiver; neither am I, for thou art the one, and the false, and the true, the truth, and the false. Therefore if I believe what thou sayst, I will believe what I say. If thou believe not what thou dost, I will not trust what thou dost. I am a liar, my dear father; but if thou trust, and thou believe not, I shall not trust anything, which my child hath.”

“So thou hast deceived me; for my children are not my children.”

“But my child does not believe that I am in thy womb, but it does not believe that thou didst say that, nor that thou didst make it so, because thou was in thy womb. This is no longer true, for I have not the power to make thee to

======== CHECKPOINT 007 OUTPUT # 004 ========

namespace, to have the correct value as the result of the same search. The “search” keyword is ignored, if you have a non-searchable element (such as a list item). The current value will always be searched, and it will return a value of the same value as the current search term.

Here’s an example of a search for an image using a searchable element (and hence also the same search term):

{{ “name” => “John Doe”, “image” => “foo.jpg”, “name” => “John Doe”, “image” => “foo.jpg”, “name” => “John Doe”, “src” => “” }, “image” => “foo.jpg”, “name” => “John Doe”, “name” => “John Doe”, “src” => “” }

To show that the search has succeeded, you can write this like this:

(setq images)) (setq image (make-active-image-search ‘image)))

Now you should have the following code:

If you’ve run this with the above pattern:

(search image)))

you would expect a result of “John Doe”, or more likely, “John Doe” or “John Doe” is what you need to read.

This is because you have to search the list for a specific image or link (a search term is called a link if it includes a content element).

The second approach is to write something like this:

(search “image”, “foo.jpg”, “foo.jpg”


search “image/foo.jpg”


search “image/foo.jpg”?

(search image))

Note that there’s no need to provide all of the above for images, although it can be a useful way of having a nice and easy search. (But, if you can’t read it, you can still find it in a search: “John Doe”).

How Do I Add Images in the Image Search (search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-partner?search-part

======== CHECKPOINT 007 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Rank to

1. Laudance – 1.8

2. The King of Dragons – 0.5

3. Black Cat – 1.5

4. Black Queen – 0.3

5. Black Siren – 0.2

6. Blasphemous Beast – 0.3

7. Black Queen – 0.2

8. Black Witch – 0.2

9. Crows of Dagon – 0.3

10. Crows of Dagon – 0.2

11. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

12. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

13. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

14. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

15. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

16. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

17. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

18. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

19. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

20. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

21. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

22. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

23. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

24. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

25. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

26. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

27. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

28. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

29. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

30. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

31. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

32. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

33. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

34. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

35. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

36. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

37. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

38. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

39. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

40. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

41. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

42. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

43. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

44. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

45. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

46. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

47. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

48. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

49. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

50. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

51. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

52. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

53. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

54. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

55. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

56. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

57. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

58. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

59. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

60. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

61. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

62. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

63. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

64. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

65. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

66. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

67. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

68. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

69. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

70. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

71. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

72. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

73. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

74. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

75. Crow of the Drowning – 0.2

======== CHECKPOINT 008 OUTPUT # 001 ========

inspirational’s work as well as in their work?

When I first started looking at the material, I thought it would make me feel some kind of special kind of person, but as time passed, it did not work out.

It’s true. For some reason the more I read the more I became fascinated by your works, the more my interest became intensified.

For example, in an essay in his novel, when he writes, “The first time you’re here I saw a painting of a figure on an apple and the second time I felt your gaze on my eyes. And now in my dream I see the same painting on a mirror: on a different side of a mirror, in front of the mirror.”

That’s an idea that I’m still struggling with. Is there any way to tell that the same will be true in my future or even in your current life?

In fact, I suspect that if you had had a better choice than me, I would have chosen something more like it.

That’s what I like to do, and it’s something that’s been in the works for some time.

You’ve gone through many different careers as well, so I would say that you’ve not been as well-read as I think you are, and you’re doing some of the things you do best, and yet the way you’re doing things is a little different from what I think you should be doing.

In fact, you appear to be the type of writer that will change things all the time.

As far as what I mean by changing things in this life, my current book has changed, and I still can’t say which.

But let me say one thing.

When I started writing about the subject of marriage, a lot of men in the ’50s went by and said, “We want to have children, we’re not sure what we want to do in that world.” I was surprised that it’s not clear where those men are now, but it’s the opposite.

What I mean is that my husband is not very popular.

His popularity, which is great, is not strong.

So, in this world, it’s still very hard to raise a child.

You talk about the difference between being a father and a mother.

When I was a child, I could not get a divorce.

When I was married, I could not get a child.

And, yes, it was a huge struggle, to get your father’s attention.

You can say that, because it would seem, if you could not get your wife’s attention, then you can’t be seen as strong, or strong, or strong enough, for it to matter.

It is true, but it’s not so true that when it comes to marriage, I never see my wife as strong as I do.

Sometimes, I have her say, “You can’t have your wife as strong as I do, as I do,” and her face is all smiles and looks down on me.

And you say, “Well, I don’t like my wife, I don’t like my husband, I think that she’s a bit hard, but I can still make her happy.”

Then what is your feeling?

She was just like that in her mind when she told me she liked my work.

She didn’t mean that I was making her happy.

She wasn’t saying that she hated my work either.

“No, she was just saying that I was making her happy,” you say.

“No, she was just saying that I was making her happy,” you say.

Well, what was it?

She was just saying that I was making her happy.

Well, that’s quite right.

But, you say it’s not so hard to get her attention, if I have to get her attention.

It’s true, but it’s not so easy to get her attention, either.

What do you mean?

The fact that your wife is angry, she looks angry.

How can she be angry, when you are happy, she is?

“And when I was angry, her eyes looked down and she seemed to cry.”

“Oh,” she said, “I was angry. She told me so.”

“But you do say that she is still angry, and that you do not like her?”

“No, she’s not so mad.

It’s very simple. I know she likes my work, so I do not like to do it, so I don’t like to do it.”

“I do not like to do it?”

“Well, I do like it.

And what is the best work you do?”

“My wife is doing

======== CHECKPOINT 008 OUTPUT # 002 ========

lights as the wind blows on the sun-bleached clouds. They gather round him, each one singing his own song. One thing which can’t be stopped is the noise.

“It’s an old age now!” says the old king. “My mother loves me so much that when she comes to see me she takes out a little piece of cloth. Now she must say something about you—she must say you’re wrong—’No!’ says she, ‘I love you so much that I am quite so afraid.’ But it is her sister, she says, ‘who can give me hope in you that you love me?’ and she looks her eyes on me. ” ‘Why don’t I do the same,’ says she, ‘and then tell me it’s time I told you to go away?’ ‘Yes,’ says I. ‘Forgive me for my silence—I must tell you that it is time to go away—I love you so much that I am quite so afraid of me that I feel so much the need to do this.”

‘But you must not say it to me,’ says she. ‘Your Majesty is dead; she is no longer alive, and you, her husband, are dead to you. Who is alive to me? Is there not a soul in the heavens whose heart is so pure as mine? Are you all too aware of this matter? I am so mad that I dare say it to myself, as I lay on my face and my face is not bright enough to see your face, and yet all I can say is this, ‘My soul is so pure, I should have done it like that. You should not think of this. I am so mad that I would have said it to you, I do not think it’s wise to do this, but what if you do, then you will laugh and weep; but if you think of me, do not say to me so! I have no pity for your soul, your body is so sick with fear, you are too dear to love me, so dear to love you, what does that mean? I am not worthy of you and your dear love! I am dear, you are dear, I have never had a mistress, no mistress ever did love me! ‘If my wife could make him love me, you would not give him the name, but she would not give him any name of her love!’ ‘When can you find your wife?’ I am all mad: for I am so full of envy that I do not look for the name of my love, but you, your husband, you have done me the honour of being so proud of me, and I am still proud that I do not look for your love.’ I will say nothing now, but if you shall write me something about it, I will give it to you in that sentence which is as sweet as honey in that flower.”

As he got up he ran his hand down his cheek, but he stopped him, and said, “When I saw him I felt his heart on fire; but there was nothing but him, and there was no light to his eyes. I took him by the hand and threw his hand in my mouth. And he said, ‘Look, I will make love to you. I will give you all that you have, but for what? Let it be done to me, but if you do not give me any more to love, let them be done with their own eyes, and they will live a life as I live; for their hearts do not love, but they die to live; they will never love, and their hearts perish to live.’ Then he went back to his seat, and sat down.

“‘Look!’ says he; ‘look upon me as if you were my soul! and then I will take you to heaven; and heaven will be like a cave, for heaven’s walls will be broken and you shall be like me.’

“My heart was cold and wet, so that it felt as if I had been made to be of stone, and it seemed like something soft and rough, but I had so much blood, but not that I could touch it, but my head fell so suddenly, and I looked at him with the same frightful and vexation as I saw the moon. ‘I did not feel any pain when I sat down, and I heard you say that I was so afraid that I would have gone far if I had not gone far: I did not think that I would be afraid if I had not gone far.’

“‘But my head is so strong, that it can hold still; but my heart is too small, and my heart cannot bear being touched. I think, then, that this might be so, and that if you had not so strong a heart, that no one might take it from you; and for that which cannot be taken from me, my heart is broken, my heart is as cold as fire, my blood

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

Meg, the “I don’t know where the name of the city is but it’s in the city.”

The most famous quote from the movie “I am your son!” was “My life is more valuable than yours!”

The title “My love in your heart” was written on a wooden globe.

The “Vacation from the Cold” was written on a stone slab.

There are six different colors of a rainbow: green, blue, red, and yellow.

Most of all, there is always an abundance of red.

The number three in the list of “My love to the sky” is only one in the universe.

We had a bird named, “the bird of your back, the bird of my heart, the bird of your eye.”

A picture of the first time I was ever born would not have come to my memory.

“Oh my God, this is so wonderful to behold, you can see it so well!”

When I was young, I used to cry at my father’s deathbed,

“A picture of her and me, a picture of her mother and my father,

A picture of her with a friend, or a love of a friend, and then he died with her!

“You see, I’m afraid that when he died, she’ll never be seen again!

“For to kill her so many lives, I am the first death in your city!”

These last words have often been repeated on the grave,

“I’ll make my mark on your heart, and to be your blood-stained sword!”

If you believe this, then, by what force did you make a copy?

There are many things that the reader could do to make this mistake.

Some of them will not work out if the story is not written in a more suitable style.

Some will not be done, but must be made to appear very pleasing to the eyes of the beholder.

Many words that the reader might hear from time to time must be read aloud by the mind;

Some will not be so easily understood, but that in them, when they are heard they may make a sound.

Sometimes, though, when you have an occasion to do the work of the reader,

“That which I desire in the mind of my heart may not be obeyed.

Sometimes, I am able to think of something that my heart will be compelled to obey.

“Why do you think I will believe in me?”

“Because I do not give pleasure to any thing but mine;

Because what a great heart I find to delight me.

“Why do I think that you are so enamoured of me?”

“Because I am too great of my nature to give thee pleasure.”

The greatest danger to our love is,

“To make a false promise and lose it;

It is a false way, a false hope.”

As well do I do, as all others do;

“Oh, it is so beautiful, you would be amazed to behold the flowers in the sky.”

The most delightful thing to me is

“How many times do you see the roses that bloom in your gardens?”

Many things can do to be seen by sight,

and many do not.

“Let’s try this to please you, and then let us get together.

“But we shall never be the same;

For nothing to be able to make love, but love to itself.

“O, what’s more?

What a false name, what an invention, what a vain ambition!

“O, I will die without seeing a thing!”

And when a false friend has died,

“O, that’s enough for you, and I’ll tell you the way,”

And now to his sorrow,

“What will that do for you?

“O, what are you doing for him?

“You will not die, but I will make you alive.”

If it were not for him that he was born,

“My life is not your own, my blood is my own;

What then will you do in mine heart?”

If you see his face, you know that he is not mine,

but only that he is not mine,

so that he is mine in me.

“The death of your friend is mine;

My life is your own, your blood my own.”

If your heart were mine,

my heart would not love you so much as it did yours;

“Let him die, not in my heart, not in your,

but in me who bears him to you:

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

branches to be left behind in order to get him to the castle’s top.

Gideon’s body can be seen in the distance, staring at the two servants as they do the deed.

Rime’s hand holds the knife as if it were a sword.

Gideon rushes to her side and then, by force of the force of his rage, leaves her, but she doesn’t let go.

In one of the last moments before she runs, the knife strikes her hand, killing her.

This act of her has caused the great loss of a great portion of the kingdom, but the fact that it did not kill the kingdom of the dead will not have a lasting effect on their minds.

The two ladies were one year from each other’s death, and the son was two years old.

“Why should she be so ill with that?” asked the queen, as he gazed at his daughter.

“She is very fond of the dead, and this is something I shall take to heart, when she may show you a picture of that kind of spirit, which makes up her character. “

And with a smile which glittered in the young maiden’s eyes, she added: “You have nothing but love and hope to show me, though you may think I am so much afraid of you that I will not dare to tell you, since your love for me is my heart. I will take no comfort in you when I will think that you are so wicked, though you are so strong that you will not be able to live in fear of the things that are before you, but as if they were good, as if they were good only; so that you will feel that I have a good friend, that you will be more kind to me than ever, and that you will be less than so many others in the kingdom, even when I give you a fair head for that good name that you will have. “

She was then told by her maid, the mistress, that she would come to see the young man and ask him a question, to which he would answer and say: “May I see that that is not what I want to do to you?”

The young man said he would be glad if she did, but he said: “My dear Lady, do you love me more than a little bit of love that may tempt my heart?”

“Very good, that is well, since you are not quite able to say so now.”

“But I will give you a letter of my own, which I would not give to you, but which I think I have in my hand; I think you should tell me all this if you are willing, so that I may not know your folly which is the case. Your young friend will be dead before he is old enough to leave you a piece of that which has lost its life.”

“What is your name?”

“My dear Lady, I am not your name, but my name is, and you are to tell me what my name is.”

“Your daughter’s name?”

“My dear Lady, my name is yours, and I am to your mother, to her maid, and my husband to my brother-in-law. I am so proud of your being that I am very much afraid of your being dead to me.”

“You do not understand, do you, you know, but what are you thinking? why have you said this to me? why have you made such a boast to me? I thought it my duty to look after you all; but now, you know that I do not love you. I am very jealous that you have taken this thing so much away from me. I must make that a very hard subject of mine to be vexed with. What I have done is that I made it my business to write you the letter that is so difficult to write, and to give you this letter to understand that you love me more than I love you. You would be happy to know that it was this letter that I wrote to you, and that you have not yet learned to write that to me?”

“Yes, in my opinion, but it is true that your father, who had been a young servant to me, made me beg you to leave him in his charge. I do not know how you did it, but I will tell you what it is, and tell you what you must do if you will do it again.”

“It would be better if we lived in a different country than what you are now, and then that I might learn how to play with her hands and with his ears.”

“You are quite right,” answered his wife, as she sat up straight to his side, “But if you do not give me that letter, you will not come back to my house again; for I do not know how to keep this letter in my hands,

======== CHECKPOINT 008 OUTPUT # 005 ========

volcano I found you, this beautiful thing is the best thing in the world.” She then laid hands on my hand, saying, “Now, my dear child, the love of that beautiful thing, let me see it.” She took my hand and said, “This thing is in your hands, and you will bear it.” I smiled at her, saying, “You see now how it is. This beauty that comes in this state of perfection, makes her body, and she lies still there, without fear or trembling, as you are.” “My child!” she cried. “How shall I bear it if this is not the love of your child?” I said, “What love, then, will you think?” “Nothing, my child, that I have seen or seen, has ever been so much love as to be so much love to you, as it is to my little girl.” She said, “But there is not a single love in this world to my little one.” “You do not understand what I mean to say; and I shall tell you in a word, that this love I bear shall be, this dear thing in the hands of your dear daughter.”

“O! where can I find you?” said she, with a sad face.

“Oh! I have no love but you; that which you did in me, for I had the best of you. If this child shall not be yours, I have no more love in you. But I hope that it will never come into my sight, nor come to your sight. And let no one deceive you with words, till I tell you that I will tell you how my love came into me.”

She then, taking off her breastplate, and with a glance, kissed my lips.

“O! no! I am happy that love shall be found in my heart,” said she, with a smile which seemed of pleasure, and with all her lips one of her lips had been taken in her breast, and when she had kissed my lips a second time she drew in her hand from my breast, and with her fingers she caressed my body with her fingers, and she added, “Let it be that thou, O my dear wife, mayst never hear of such an accident as I did. It is true that a woman should be content to receive a little kindness, but if she loves in vain, she is in all danger of being harmed, and is the cause of many sorrows, even of death.”

“Well, then,” said she, “I will say no more, then, but do not think it in my power to change the subject of this conversation. Let me take a leave, then, to sit at your right hand and your left, and show that I have not made a new thought.

“What is it, my child? What is it, the love of your child, that makes your child fall, that makes you beguile her, and that makes your heart desire her?” she said, “I think you may, my little one, see that the beauty of my own eyes, but that of that of the world, lies in my own. I never gave to your love that which I saw before, and I have no love now but this: this love, it is this love which I gave you, this love, which, as you are well aware, makes you wish that this love, in your heart, I may have made you think; but now, it is that I must make the truth true, that it may seem to you my true love.”

“Well then, dear child, be it my love that you might think it true, or my love that this love may seem to you true, which is all to your purpose?”

“I do not think so; I did not do the kiss. And thou didst love the one with me more than any other that came to me; it was all in me, that thou made it; thou made it myself that thy love should be that of mine eyes. So now, my dear child, thou art my child, and do not have me kiss, but let thy love be mine: and if thou cannot bear my love, I will love thee, my little one. Do not think that my dear child had not love that she had not received; nor do I think that thou art my child, since thou hast done no harm to me. I will make thee, and then make thee my children.

“You are right now. This will be, in a word, the best thing I ever have seen in my life. I see that thou knowest, my child, what I saw, and thou art mine, my child, and I see how much of thy true love I have. I have seen that thou hast lost all my innocence, thou hast lost everything I have, that thou hast never been love’s child, that thou art the love I have

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

ming-up-to-the-face-off-with-a-thru. She never said he would not let her, because she had never heard him say so much about it. “He says that he’s so busy here that he can’t sleep,” said she, with a sigh, “I hope his heart knows where to lie; when he’s all done with me I’d be proud of you, but if you keep me quiet, he’s just out in that time.”

“But that’s all to do with that, Miss,” said she. “Why do you stay here?”

“She’s in my room,” replied he; and she said no more than she’d said before she had gone to him.

“How is it that the whole place thinks you’d like to come?”

“Of course,” said he, with a smile. “I want to go here, I’ve been wanting to do you this more than once, I reckon, but I’ve been more than a little lost in thinking.”

“How did I come to you?”

“A letter from your mother, from my mother,” said she, “and I have been told to find a house for your father’s sake. I did not think she was quite so much as her own; and when I got to this letter I could not help wondering how I knew she was going.”

“Well, that’s my fault,” said she, “but you’re quite right; if you could get me to go you’d be quite right; if I had you, I’d be right in it. I should think you should have told me, if you could have said it; but it was the truth. I will never forget it. You’ll remember me, I hope; I’ll forget you. What an eye! where did you see me, and what was that on you? How you’d not think me fair-minded, for your lips seemed so white, when I saw that a boy should lie face down in a pillow-cloth?”

“Well,” said he, “it was my fault, not mine.”

“And this, then, was so true that all men would have thought it?”

“Well, they will, when it comes to the question of my child, which one of you you should have told my mother? The poor little child will do you in my name, if you take her into it.”

“Ah, no, not here; this is not my daughter’s place, but a little chamber, where she sleeps, and when she thinks she hears it she tells it to herself, and then she sleeps like a young maiden, and the old maiden comes out with his wife to see her. So they call each other so much love that she calls them by that name, for they’re all in the same room, and both say ‘O, dear little maiden!’ when she asks their opinion. How’s your friend?”

“To hear the man tell it in such a way that he hears him, and what’s his voice in the house in this part of the country? What is he? What is this like? what’s his name, or your name, or your maiden name, or my maiden maiden name?”

“Oh, the devil’s part! he sees my maiden maiden. I never saw her, he told me. I never saw her, but he did see her. I’d think he would have made me know he was so well worth his age.”

“So you never did ask him, and you never did ask him, either. ‘Twas a day in heaven when I did pray and weep. When I said he’d done his deed.”

“I did pray, but he did ask me, and my heart trembled, but did not hear me. I did tell him my name, and it seemed to come straight from heaven, but he never did hear the name, and his heart began to tremble like a cow’s, and his eyes and lips grew cold, and he felt so weak in fear, that he could not bear it, and all the fear he felt seemed to kill him.”

“But how many nights have I never been sick?”

“Two nights; one to-day; the other three nights, and all night long; and by night all I dream in darkness.”

“I see that you are a fool, then, and you are so weak that you are a fool.”

“Oh, poor fool!” said he. “You’ll think I did lie, and I will never, that I should lie.”

“Then you’ll believe me, and your lies will be the cause of my grief and my shame.”

“Then I know not what to do with my dear friend.”

“If she knew you’d be there, I’d be with her; if I was

======== CHECKPOINT 009 OUTPUT # 002 ========

happens a few times over the course of a night or week.

To make matters worse, you have more than your fair share of enemies in your party.

As he goes about your way, your spirit must be full of joy and cheer,

And that is the charm of the true good,

Where in the fair streets she takes her fair share,

Where her lovely side takes the most cheer,

To be seen all night long in the happy lights of the world,

Where, on a great night, in her very tender night,

She can be seen by all who look on her.

And by her true self, to show what she looks like,

To see her beauty of beauty is never lost

And I will make love of her by the love of heaven,

And that shall I call her again to my loving heart.

“That I love you as much as I love my sister,

And when we meet together in heaven,

I will know to that man that I love his heart,

and that man will love to my heart that I love to love him,

He will never love me again, for he loves only the love of his heart,
yet in all his heart love so good,
that he who loves is a better person than I am,
and so that man I love should live forever,
his love of him to me will keep me strong,
I will cherish him for ever and ever,

He that loved my heart will find in me the sweetness that all others have,
so that the love of him that loves me will stay,
He that loved my heart shall find in me the sweet that all others have,
His heart that loves my heart shall find in me the sweet that all men have,
His heart that loves my heart shall find in me the sweetness of all others’ hearts,

His heart that loves my heart shall find in me the sweet of all men’ hearts,

His heart that loves my heart shall find in me the sweetness of all men’ hearts,

He that loves my heart shall find in me the sweet of all men’ hearts,

And that, if my heart be not made alive, my love of him shall be,
if my heart be not made alive, my love of him shall be,
and if my heart not be made alive, my love of him shall be,
If my heart be not made alive, my love of him shall be,
My heart is mine in heaven; my love of him in heaven is,
My love of him in heaven is not,
My love of him in heaven is not,
My love of him in heaven is not,
My love of him in heaven is not,
My love of him in heaven is not,
My love of him in heaven is not,
My love of him in heaven is not,
And all these things are to be understood by every soul.

The thing I say, I said, did not come from thee, thou shalt not inherit my kingdom.

And it is this that makes thee so: for you say that I do not know thee,
the most holy king of kings,
That thou art my only friend, my true friend,
That thou art my son, my pure sister, my precious mother,

My love of thee is thy self, my love of thee is thy self,
thy own love of me is thy own,
My love of thee is thy self, thy own love of me is thy self,
that I love thee to thy own good,
My love of thee to thy own good,
my love of thee to thy own good is thy own good,
My love of thee to thy own good,
My love of thee to thy own good is thy own good,
my love of thee to thy own good is thy own good,
My love of thee to thy own good is thy own good,
My love of thee to thy own good is thy own good,
My love of thee to thy own good is thy own good,
My love of thee to thy own good is thy own good,
My love of thee to thy own good is thy own good,
my love of thee to thy own good is thy own good,
My love of thee to thy own good is thy own good,
my love of thee to thy own good is thy own good,
my love of thee to thy own good is thy own good,
My love of thee to thy own good is thy own good,
my love of thee to thy own good is thy own good,
my love of thee to thy own good is thy own good,
my love of thee to thy own good is thy own good,
My love of thee to thy own good is thy own good,

======== CHECKPOINT 009 OUTPUT # 003 ========

captured. When the soldiers are finally satisfied with this, they proceed to take them to the water, where they drink from the hot water.

As it is said, she had a dream. He said to her, “My name is not with you, I am a boy, but the child of old age.”

“O thou dost say,” replied she; “if thou dost call me thou dost not know me?”

She told him this, and they went on their journey in company with their horses.

“You are too wise, O king of kings, for you have been made by a king, and thou art the son of a king,” said he. “Why, you are king of kings, thou art too wise, O king of kings. Who art thou? What canst thou do with the youth of these days?

“I have found you the old woman with whom I share my sorrow, my sweet child. I am not afraid, but I will keep thee in my bosom for ever, and my heart’s heart.

“And if the wind should change to fair or misty weather, you would not fear so much as to come to thy aid, though I myself am in the dark.”

“I know it as I do,” said he, “that when thou art in the shadow of the night, I am the night, and all things that pass by are shadowed by thee.”

“In what manner then are thy thoughts, but my eyes are in darkness,” replied he, “for all things pass by them as before, like shadows, and not being of the same shade, they appear alike.

“O dear fool! thou art not yet yet the one who had so much a look for my beauty, but now the world is changing so that you can not see what thou dost see.”

“You are not, my friend,” said he, “in the world is changing from my beauty. You are not the one who has a look for me, but the world changing from mine beauty, and all things that pass by are not shadowed by thee.”

“O my dear friend! I do not say that it is not true that all things pass by, but that in mine vision, as it were, all things that pass by them as before change.

“For you, my dear friend, are still more so than before, and yet when thou art in the shadow of the night I am in the shadow.”

“And yet thou art in my shadow, that I may see thy beauty, and not be seen by thee,” said he; “in all things in darkness are they, but not even so in mine sight.”

“You say it is so,” cried he; “as a beauty, if you have seen the stars, would thou know them. I am not in the night in the world, but in the world in which thou art, and I do not see thee.”

“In all things in darkness, though thou dost love the world, do not in the world love me in the sun, for thou art not in the world in which thou wilt be seen.”

“The stars are not the stars; therefore they are the stars.”

“In all things in darkness do thou not see them? I have heard of such days, as those to which thou art in the world, and I do not fear to hear of those days when thou art in the world.

“O my friends! when they were young, beholdeth the world change from the light and change from the darkness; beholdest thou the world be in darkness, when thou art in the night?”

“What doth it do that I have to show thee, and what doth it do that thou art not in the world?”

“All things change in their light; but they are as they are in mine sight.”

“All things change in their light; but they are in mine sight.”

“And why art thou thus, that thou knowest not that the day which thou dost enter in, is not the day when thou dost leave my sight, but the day when thou dost be left alone?

“The world beth not in thee, but in me.”

“And why art thou that art that my face be not made the world, for the world is all that is in my sight?”

“And now, my dear friend, I see the night, when thou art in my sight; then thou wilt know all things that pass, and if thou hast seen all this, thou art all in thy sight.”

“But I am in thy sight, O sweet boy, that thou mightst see thy beauty. I have no eye for thee, yet thou dost see thy beauty: when thou art in the sight, thou wilt not

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

icians of the night.

The night was the time of a thousand seasons, the moon being in the night,

And the stars were on the morning.

‘Where are you now, young sir?’ said he. ‘I see that I must go out this night.’

‘Where is he?’ asked he; ‘what hast thou done that I must take him?’

‘To-morrow,’ said he, ‘I shall have him again.’

‘And what can I say?’ inquired she. ‘I must say no more than this.’

‘But then I have nothing to do?’

‘And not much?’ she answered; ‘and I will be lost.’

‘Who do you mean,’ said he, ‘when I am found again,
And in thy sight a new name.’

‘Now,’ said she, ‘you have brought me here, with thee,
From which I must, now, go away,
For thou art gone in this world, to be gone in another.

For I am going to my own home, from whence I shall see

And yet not know the world’s meaning till I see thee.’

‘You will tell me, sir,’ said she, ‘why I had a name for myself,
That I have seen thee so often in thy sight

And I will tell thee what thee dost desire.’

‘My wife is gone,’ said he, ‘as her daughter;

And thou dost not love her with a heart of heart

Which never can love thee but one,
for thou shalt never see the world in which thy heart

Beeth lost;

For her she hath spent all her time

And she doth not love thee but two.

‘O, dear, what is that!

The soul which is with thee in thy womb

In which thou dost dwell,

As long a day I shall have thee;

And thou shalt see the world in thee.’

‘What dost thou then think?’

‘Thou dost wish for my death,

For I have seen it on your eye,

As thou dost say it to my ear,

How it seemed to thee: but it was no more true.’

‘So I say not to thee,’ said he, ‘the world’s true,’

And then he gave her some of his words.

‘The world, you have not seen,

And it makes no change of shape

And makes nothing new,

And no alteration or change,

And no change of hue.

Thou art in that place which was never of thy age;

And then the sky, from thee,
doth set,
with the stars above,

In the sky which is as a golden light

Whose shadow doth not make any change in its form.

In this new moonless night, and the stars shall shine,

But by his pale face, thou canst see

Who dwells this moonless night,

Thy eye doth give thee the sight of this world.

The world, therefore, is dead;

And so there is no true beauty
which can make beauty

Like a dead eye, like a dead eye doth show

Which in the past makes beauty not shine

With a dead eye, as in the past did not shine;

Nor did I think that they did shine,
As now do not shine;

But when thou shalt have seen them shine,

And when thy face shall see them shine,

As thou wert thou in my midst

Let it pass by and go to my mouth;

And I shall be afraid,
For my eyes shall not find me;

Thy eyes shall not see thee;

But my ears shall see thee,
And my tongue shall hear thee:

But what shall I do, when thou lookest through my eyes?

For if I were of the world, I should look down,

And not to see that I was in thee.

For there was never another in my sight;

If thou was not in me then would I not have seen thee,

Where thou wast mine eyes were so well fixed,

As when thou dost dwell in mine eyes,

Though thou hast no other eye than my eyes

To see thee, and what shall I do,

For my eyes shall not see thee,

Yet in my midst thou seeest.

Now, what is this thy eye that I see?

But to me, thou art in this,

To the world where I find thee,

And why dost thou look from

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


The main character of this story (Ridley J) is a white man from a small town named Vassar, who finds himself fighting a white war against a tribe of humans, led by some strange human-like spirits, when the war ends, leaving him, the other humans in this story having a common enemy, a demon lord and their best friend, named Thea.

Contents show]

Appearance Edit

A small white male, with brown hair, short black-tanned hair, and an ugly moustache, he is very tall and full-bodied, with a good smile on his face and large, huge eyes, with red lips.

When she is about to eat a meal from a piece of fruit, his back is covered with a deep red and bloodshot eyes.

Quotes Edit

“I am the only boy from a small town who knows nothing of that. The earth’s wind blows, and my heart’s beating fast. My heart was broken; I felt that my heart was broken. It tore the white threads in my heart and began to tear.”

—Ridley J

Trivia Edit

The name of the god was a reference to the Norse god Odin.

Ridley J, in the movie, is one of the three characters who appear as a half-wolf.

Despite being the main character, they never have a meeting.

The second half of the story is set before his battle with Thea.

His name is mentioned in the song “Crazy Blue Rain”.

When they meet, they are wearing dark sunglasses.

In the movie, the second half of the story is set before their battle with Thea.

Ridley has two other female characters named, K.R. and R.K.R., but it is unknown whether this is because of their different names.

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

kson of the Great Crusade, when he was of the opinion that this kingdom was nothing but of the most distant part of the land of man. I, therefore, believe that his judgment is in error. It was said, as it were by many of you that if it had come to pass in the year of his birth that these things should have occurred in his birth, that the sun should rise up with that glory, to wit: that in all ages this great glory was now to die in hell; that he must be in every heaven a prisoner in hell, a slave in bondage; that he should ever be bound by any kind of constraint of his will to the ends of justice; and that his life should die, for that his blood hath no pleasure to redeem, but to drink, and that his virtue alone is sanctified by this, that it may no longer be polluted by the decay which it consumes; but that what it did save through this life is, that is, in every age, still preserved, for ever, and still again; and that in every age, the age from which he died and became old, still remains in this age, and is still fresh in her birth. The time I was at Paris was the last time that my father did visit me; and he had not the least time to spare him either by night or day. I took to his bed, and made haste to him, to put to sleep every night, till after he had slept for some time, and by which time I had a fever and had another one to live on. He did not seem to be awake.

Thus my mind was like a mirror, which, as it were, shows that it is the same to be drawn from it. This did I take of my hand, with which I began to paint the face of the subject.

“My soul?” said the lady, with a smile, “What do you see me in? Where is it that you are, and where you are not?”

“The world is no world, but only a glass which will not shatter. Now look.”

“If you saw it, then I believe it is you.”

“It is but glass.”

“Why are you telling me that it is not glass?”

“Because glass is a lie, that it is a lie; that it is not of the true, that it cannot be, that it cannot be the true; that it is an illusion, and is a false; that it is not the true, and that it is the true, as well as that it can be.

“When you say that it is glass, you do not mean to say it is true, and it is, but that glass may be false.”

“O, it is true, but not true; and not true, but false; and true is the truth.”

“I am not so weak as to say that I know not what it is that you are seeing, as I do see it, and how it works; but I am afraid to say so, because my heart is too weak to say so.

“If you did not know, what sort of a thing is the thing that I saw? or what kind of the thing you are?”

“There is in your sight, as well as in the soul, but nothing more, and nothing less.”

“You say that you are not able to see, that you do not see; but what is there there which you do see?”

“I am nothing.”

“Then are you not able to tell my name?”

“My name is not in your mouth.”

“Then I see what you see and what I see?”

“What do you see and what do you see?”

“Why did you put me in that manner, when I can see all the things in the world?”

“Because I am a liar and a liar’s self.”

“Why are you telling me what you say, but that I am only you?”

“You know not what you tell, nor what you do.”

“My true self, and mine true self, shall be all the rest; and if I be the most good in my life, it must be the one I do not love, nor love to love.”

“Where is your happiness? where are your sins? where are you born that you may be grown by the grace of God, in the way you say it to you?”

“That I have many of you; that I can live to see you for ever. I shall make some time when I should have some, but not all that I should see, and yet others will appear, which I will not live to see.”

“But then that you will not live to see me?”

“That which your eyes cannot see; that which your lips cannot make.

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

cubic (R) or more, or more than the quantity required.

The difference in the quantity of the three objects can be determined only by the time a second object is moved by a second force, or by the same effect, the force in a single moment.

To be taken as such is to be one with one object, and one with another, and one with other than one.

If it be done by a certain amount of work, and done by the following hours, it must be done, not by some thing which has time and is not of this kind:

(1) a large quantity of time or time, or a thing, that might be thought to have time.

(2) Time in one hour, which is to be reckoned to have been spent in this one hour of the previous night;

(3) Time in another minute, which is to be reckoned to have been spent in the present minute.

Time is said to be the time by which, on account of the amount spent in one hour, or in one minute, or in one hour, a time may be divided by time, and for every time this is spent, there shall be another time added to that time which is spent in the next.

But a man may make an act, in which he can no longer use what he is to say to him, unless he are to say something which makes it so, which should make him think, that he ought to be thinking; and so as his thought should seem to him, he will not do so, either by the force or by any other effect.

This may be done by changing one piece of stone, or by making another piece of wood, to which an equal number of hours have passed since the last one, to give that hour’s worth to this act, as if that hour had been spent in a piece of clay; but he is not to take, in any part of that time, one piece, and give him another one; he takes only one piece at a time, and takes another at a time.

Then, though his thought was such as was said, if it were true, he should not have taken that which had been done, though he should have taken, the one which was to say, this is, that in the whole he should think, or that the two pieces which were to be taken be one, and thus one to another.

Now, I shall be a little farther on in the subject, though the general effect of the words in this sentence, though I do not feel my tongue in a fit of pain, might not do so much mischief, and it may make me sick, or it may make me do wrong.

To show, that it is true and true, that, by the act of making a false and false thing, or of concealing it in a false and false act, a false and false act are done by the contrary, is as bad as to say it is: but it is better, I must not, and this that is done by an act, by a false, false, and false thing.

(1) A false and false act are not so much like those, but they do each other so.

This is why the law of the law of the law of love, is so good: so, when we say that our heart may have a fault, or our love, or our heart may have a heart, when we say that it may have a heart, or our love, or our heart, we do not mean to express this, but in all things that they are thought of.

But in this case, if I do not like, or be not, I am not to blame, for I am not.

For it is that in one thing in every other way, that in which there is a fault, and there is no fault, I am to blame, for in both respects my own fault is in my own.

And it is true, that by a false and false thing, or false, that an act is done by the contrary; and yet that I am a false and false man, that I do not do this, nor the act of doing it, the act of taking a false and false thing; I have no fault in this act, but I am willing to take the wrong, and that I am willing to act it; and what I did be what I am not.

To make a false and false thing a true and false thing is to make it a true and false thing.

Nor can I say, that in that state of mind I am willing to do wrong, as in that state of mind I am willing to be wrong, if I cannot be willing to do right: and that it is wrong to me that in such a state of mind I am willing to act wrong, though I cannot be willing to act right:

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

airplane to the east.

“We were pretty sure that the water would stay in that state for the next two years, and we’d get some fresh water to drink for the next year, and we’d do it in a couple of weeks,” she says.

‘When I do it, it’s the best thing I can do’

The young woman thinks she might have a bad night’s rest and sleeps all night with nothing but the hot air from her nostrils.

“I’ve got two things to do, and if I don’t have one or I don’t have the others, I’ll lose my place.”

But it all seems as if all that time had passed away.

“When I do it, it’s the best thing I can do,” she replies.

“Do what you want, but don’t force your mind to do the hard work you want, or I’ll be too busy with it to write to you.”

“It’s worth it,” says he, “to be a good shepherd.”

“That’s the true thing,” says she, “but if I did it in such a way that you could see what it was all about, and all this that went before me, you might understand why I have no excuse for being so busy.”

“You’d better tell me, you know, that I have more than enough for my own needs, for mine needs do not lie in being able to feed myself, nor in being able to buy myself some of these things which are not mine.”

“What a nice boy! I am a proud boy; he will eat me, and when I am done with him, he will take a deep breath.”

“Oh, good boy, you seem to enjoy that kind of thing so well.”

The girl takes out a bowl and opens it, and all in a loud laugh she delivers her arms to the sky and falls down in the air.

This is a happy time, a happy time for such a poor thing; but it is not to be.

“You must not look forward to this day, for you will have to look backward, and you may not be able to do it.”

“I must, for I cannot live in a state of continual pain, that will soon break in on me, while I live in an undiminished state of constant pain.”

She laughs hard, and her eyes are bright with tears.

“I do not like you,” says he; “I do not like you.”

“What a poor poor boy,” quoth she, “why then do you weep? And how often did I make him weep? When I am so angry with my wife, I never did cry in her sight, nor did I cry in her heart. You shall have no need to weep, for there is nothing worth crying about, either in a matter as important as the thing which you are to bear, or as a matter as an instrument; for it was not my purpose to bear in his bosom the most miserable, and for all the more he was a creature. I must cry; then you will weep with me, and weep with your husband with you.”

“Well, you shall cry with me, my dear, so please,” says he. “And do not weep with me, for I do not know when, as you have said, you will cry, and you must cry.”

“What is that all about?”

“I am quite certain that my heart is very cold, and when I am strong I love myself more than I can bear to have been so cold.”

“I never know,” quoth he, “why, as far as I know, I cannot bear to be weak in a love of all, and have lost all I possess.”

“This must be why I have a heart of such strength,” says she, “my heart being so powerful, and in this I am so strong, that I cannot bear the heavy blows of a hurricane. I am far from it, but I have no fears that might prevent my heart from being filled with strength.”

“You think it is true?” says she; “but you know it is true.”

“Yes; it is true, my dear, that you will not have any fear of a storm, but of it, and you may have no fear of it; but if I may live, I will live not as long as I can live, but as a child that will live as long as I will live, and if I shall be so hard as to suffer death again, I shall suffer death as well as I can.”

“Do you suppose that this is a happy day?”

“Yes, my dear, it is a happy day; and I must not say that I cannot live to the end. I do not know what

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

addafi by means of her own strength in her own mind
The only one of us that we could love is a boy whose heart cannot find fault with her
So she looks on his lips with shame and then she takes him from her bosom
She lies there in his bosom, looking on him with her eyes filled with terror, like a madman,
And she looks upon him with her eyes filled with tears, like the devil in her sight
But the tears of his eyes are pure and white, and with them they show his face.
‘My love, thy love, my love, thou art love, my love, my love, my love, my love, my love, my love, my love,’ cried he, ‘it is true, thy love is not of thy heart, but is of mine heart, and that thy mind shall look upon thee, and thou shalt look upon her, but shall not see mine.’
But he did not go, for there was in this place no light, nor did his eyes fill with tears:
‘It was in a night, then, and she stood in the place that night,
‘The stars that were cast upon the stars shall never make them fade,
And this night’s day shall end, when the stars are all gone from sight.’
And now she thought he was gone and she sat and looked at him.
‘Why did you, O child of day,’ said he, ‘do this, and thus did I find thy beauty?
O, child of night, I cannot look at thee,’
And she sat and watched him for a while and then took him in her arms,
And, when he was done, she took him again.
‘I do not know the reason why thou dost do such things,’ quoth she, ‘nor do I know why thou dost leave me, or I am gone by thy side;
But if this is the true reason of thy love, I am not angry with thee but with you.
‘But this is not my love,’ quoth she, ‘the reason I am angry with thee,
My love is not of thee, but is of thee, and thou art my love.
‘My love is not of thee, but is of thee, and thou art my love.
‘But if this be true, that thou art my love, and thou art my love, and I am my love, I know that I am not love:
‘Thy love is not of thee, but is of thee,
That I love thou not, and thou is my love, and thy art thy art,
And thy beauty is mine, but thy beauty is mine, and thou art mine, and thy art’s, and thy face is my,
And my beauty is mine, but thy beauty is mine, but thy face is mine,
And my beauty is mine, but thy beauty is mine, but thy face is mine, and mine is mine,
And this is not my love, but it is my love,
And this is my love, my love, my love, my love;
‘My love is not of thee, but is of thee,
And thou art mine, but thou art mine, thou art my love, and thou art my love, and thou art mine, and thy is mine,
And my love is mine, and thy love is mine, but thy is mine, but thy is mine, and thy is mine,
And this is not my love, but my love, my love, my love;
And this is my love, my love, my love, my love;
This is my love, my love, my love, my love;
‘No, this is not mine, nor thou art mine, nor thy is mine, nor thy is mine,
And thou art mine, and I am mine, and thy is mine, and thy is mine,
And this is not mine, nor thou art mine, nor thy is mine, nor thy is mine, nor thy is mine,
Nor this is my love, nor this is my love, nor thy is mine, nor thy is mine, nor thy is mine, nor thy is mine,
‘All are mine, all are mine, all are mine;
‘Now, for a moment, I am a man that I have come to love;
And yet that love which thou art mine, thou art a love which is mine, thou art my love, my love;
This love is my love, this is mine, and my love is mine.
‘Love is love, this is mine, this is mine, and this is mine.’
For his love is love, my love is my love.
‘To this love alone we shall all live, and in this world all shall die.’
‘The sun shall die, and it shall not be there;
Nor shall the moon live again

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

RED of his eyes, and began to shake him away, that his head should seem to be turned about, to draw him back in his arms, to thrust his chin from his breast, his face to her, his right hand upon his chest, with a firm, proud, and strong hand; and then the same strong hand upon his left hand, again his hand upon his breast. He thought, “My dear, what can I do with thee, I can not say; and I am willing to do what I please with thee.”

“No, my darling, I do not see, but what can I do with thee?” said he; “this is the reason why I wish to go to you; if thou wilt not, and thou wilt come in my way, I will have thee alone with me.”

“If thou wilt not, then wherefore shouldst thou send me?” said he.

“Why, this,” quoth he, “we cannot, for thou hast a father, and thou shalt have no mother; but you will go and help my father; and if thou hast a son, I will make thee a son, and give thee a father with me, and thou shalt bear him a son to bear me a son: and I will give thee a son, and a daughter with me, and they shall bear one another one another. For thou art my own, and shalt bear neither me nor my child, and I will bear her, and bear thee, and thou shalt bear her with thee. And I will bear thee with my breast, and will bear thee with my mouth, and I will kiss thee.”

“But,” quoth he, “my love, thou art a man, that I may bear thee all thy children, and bring thee peace; and this is why I want thee with me, to be in thy breast, to be thy sister, and to bear thee as a slave, and that is not to blame: and what shall I do, if thou willst bear me?”

“O my dear, I do not love thee, my dear; and that is the reason why I can not say what I would do, but what thou wouldst say.”

“But thou wouldst not say that,” quoth he, “you say I am my own self; therefore this, it is not, and I am my own.”

“Then if thou wouldst say this, I will tell thee that you are my mother; and when thou wouldst tell me this, I will be your queen, and thou shalt take possession of me, and shall not deny my rights, but I will make your lord my servant.”

“Then shall I come to you, my love, and show thee how I have been kept, and how thou hast been kept. If thou wouldst show me not thy self, I will find thee.”

“Ah! what a fool,” quoth she, “you, my love, who in thy breast thou hast been bound in, shall say such a thing as this, in that it will not do thee any harm. And this is what thou wouldst do, that thou mightst show me, how this man, that was my own self, gave up his life.”

She did say what she would, and drew his hands from his shoulders, that he might not be offended, but that he might not weep, that he might not cry, that he might not give thanks, that he might not be ashamed, that he might not say: “What of you now, my love?”

“But, my love, I am not yours, for it is your self who bears me in myself, and gives me pleasure. for when thou wilt take advantage of this, I will not lose thee, nor shall I lose thee thy own life: and I will not say, ‘What of you, my love, my love,’ nor ‘what of thee I am; thou wast my servant and my slave, and shall bear me this life.’”

“Why, my love, my love,” quoth she, “you are the man to whom thou is my love. I do not make my love my slave, but the slave of thy mistress.”

“But I love thee so much that I cannot give her what she needs me to give, or to love him as I please; but, my love, I love thee so much that I cannot love you. thou wilt not love me like thy servant, but like a slave, and I shall make thee a slave, and make thee a slave for my love.

“But,” quoth he, “I wish that your mistress, my lover, would see thee love thy slave: but I do not know why thou wouldst desire to love him so much. why, she will not pity thee, and will make thee hate me, and she will make thy shame become a

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

English that we are not yet ready to leave for heaven, wherefore I have made the following to our favour, that you might see me, if you shall pardon my voice, in a place in whose sight they cannot look, but are well pleased: and that you may know where I am, which I have left, that you will give this place as much help to me, as I shall give your best to you, and then as much more help as I will give you. I think I am quite sensible, and, with true reason, that, though I was made a fool, it was to be an honour to this very subject, and so to be called by it the kind of honour that I was.

But I cannot tell you what I thought of him, nor what I did to him in this matter; that, for my part, I did make him a partaker of my love, and was sure of that by his continual loving.

For he knew not what my part was in it, and what he could not bear it to bear it by his part.

“Well, what shall he do, and what shall he make of me?”

“O, to make him suffer me, that he may suffer his wife; for I did not suppose that she should be in such a state. What will she do, if she did not do you all that he is? that, if she did not, I should not say that I love you, nor that I love him more than he loves me.

“Now what shall be done in a fight, when we have had but one in your life, so as to take advantage of one another’s advantage; then, with your face full of tears, why should the other side take part? or with yours full of joy?

“You must, my dear friend,” quoth he, “have your right, that you do not put your life at risk. Let us all be content together; I will not do you any harm, and do as you say: but if you do make me come, let me show you the way, and the way shall lead to the right path.

“O, dear son, the better part of your heart, you may see it, with that which was my heart, and with that which is mine, all my heart’s labour!

“No, I cannot, but you will be my slave; but if you leave me with this, I shall not return: and that is what you have said.

“And now, as to the subject of my life, I did not know your father, but of him, when I came to know him, and he said:

“I do not tell you a thing to do, but tell me, what I should say, and why I should say it, as often as I had to hear, and yet I thought it right and clear to tell you, so, I will not say, but I shall tell you this: that I do not know what it is for you to ask, but only to make myself so clear of my truth.

“How I did come to know you was that it had never been so.

“And in so doing you must ask me again for my confession: but to tell you not to do this is not lawful to you, and not lawful to me, and in my heart will not be.

“Nor did I leave your father, but you left me to his death.

“In all my death my heart was that of you; but at last I had to leave you, and did not wish you to see me again, and not to have you, yet that you should have me: and your father was gone, and that time was thus to come for me, and I was gone.

“What do you say, dear friend, to me, and I will do no such thing as you will do; but if I cannot do that, let us come here at once, and tell what I will do: but do what is not in my power to do, and to think what is in your power, and in your mind; what is in your power to think, and that is what I desire!

“You were once your father’s lover; but when, at length, your body had the right to leave, you were put down, and you were dead.

“As you were your mother’s maid, now you are your father’s mistress; but the night before you did her love kill you, and her blood she drenched in the blood of the other of her equals, and took all her love away.

“Your love did not kill me, my love did not kill her; but it brought me down so far, that I can not get up to it, and you do not live by it.

“If you are in any way, as they say

======== CHECKPOINT 011 OUTPUT # 002 ========

licenses-related issues on the Internet. In other words, there’s some kind of “no-obscurity” in how the Internet works, even when people use it to spread false news, or to spread hate.

The current law is based on a set of laws that are in flux and, in some respects, even more troubling than current Internet laws, says the FCC’s new commissioner, Ajit Pai.

“The current Internet laws do not stop and then take advantage of those lawless things that are done,” Pai told Reuters in an interview. “It’s not that this should be our business, but rather that the world that I want to lead, be controlled by lawless entities, with their own control, and then they are not held accountable for this abuse. We have all of us, the Internet and all of us, under the guise of being the only good, just to serve and control, but in fact, not just for your benefit.

“We are now going to need our people to be in the government, to keep it all running, and keep the Internet running,” Pai said, according to Reuters. “When we need it, why should it be in our interest? Who cares what the world thinks.

“The people should be allowed to write down what they want to write, when it comes to their lives, to use their will, to do their best to make that better,” he added.

On Wednesday, a group of Americans filed a Freedom of Information Act request with the FCC, seeking information about an FCC policy that would allow Internet service providers to deny access to their users’ personal information.

This is not the first time Internet service providers have faced privacy issues.

In late 2014, after the FCC’s own former head of security for a company that sells Internet services to spyware makers, the agency sent a memo saying that its rules in such circumstances would not provide more effective protections.

The move quickly got back to Pai, who is now under investigation over a string of privacy violations.

“Our government cannot allow this to go on in this way,” he told Reuters. “It is not lawful and it needs to be stopped. Let’s stop it.”

======== CHECKPOINT 011 OUTPUT # 003 ========

compleed the first. I cannot give much of him, for he has been in my sight since he came up; for I myself, as if I were in my midst, felt himself to be quite gone, having not yet begun to enjoy my sight by means of it, which was not my purpose to enjoy her.

When I was again at her, my head came up, and with a kiss on the lips, kissed her in return. I saw him again upon her, and on the way up, and so with her by my side came to my door, which was covered with the black linen of my chamber; where they were still, and yet had the air of their presence.

“Let me go, and if thou art in my chamber, thou shalt not return to my presence.”

“I do, my child,” answered the youth. “When will I tell thee how thou art gone? when shall thou make thy entrance in the house where thou liveth?”

“The day before thou shall rise again,” answered he. “I will tell thee the matter from which thou shouldst flee from.”

He was troubled and angry, and so I resolved,

“That I must not take it from him that I have to be with him; but I must speak to him, and when he will say that, I must confess he is not a friend of mine, but his acquaintance.

“Tell him this is his fault, that it is my fault; that I should not be so kind and gentle; that the day when thou art to be with him is now at hand; and that the night of the rest is now at hand.”

“And what shall be done with thy faults?” asked she;

“That thou, that thou shouldst die, will not live, and not be reconciled to it; that thou wilt live so long, and not die to it, that thou shalt die so late, and that thou die in thy time.

“My grief is to be felt and accounted, and my tears to be seen, and my rage to be heard; but for the pain of thy soul’s fault, and thy rage to be heard, that thou shouldst not die with me, and that I should not die,

I must die with thee, and all this will cease.”

“Oh, the thought that it is for a fault, not for love; then this is a fault, that my heart is worth as much as thou couldst say for thy shame, my heart as much as thee canst say for mine, and not thy shame?

“As thou art lost by death, so may I be with thee in all your company, so as to live on thy behalf;

For the greater part of your lives shall be lost by my death,

And your lives which belong to thy own, are more precious, and more precious than mine;

And by such means, so might all these be yours:

And if thou wilt be as a widow, and not that thy brother shall be with thee,

In heaven, not on earth, and in heaven there shall be none.

“If then thou art my friend,

I’ll make thee my own mother and my slave,

To tell me thy sorrows and thy pleasures,

The love of thy nature and thy love to thy neighbour’s will,

And with that which I do give thee, you shall be happy.

“But wherefore,” said he, “let’s not divide the life,
And divide the life between your two wills:

If thyself, or both of you,

And you, or both of me, and I

Make me to live in a common life,

And I to live in a common life in a common thing.”

Then he did leave my seat, and then I saw him with his face so close and so wide,
That I can’t imagine how he might have seen,
yet do tell me of him; what shall I do then?

“If thou art mine, thou shalt not be like this,

Let me make thee mine wife, and let him make thee mine slave;

If thou art mine, thou shalt not be like this,

Let me make thee mine slave, and let him make thee mine;

If thou art mine, thou shalt not be like this,

Let me make thee my wife, and let him make thee mine;

If thou art mine, thou shalt not be like this,

Let me make thee my slave, and let him make thee mine:

If thou art mine, thou shalt not be like this,

If thou art mine, thou shalt not be like this,

Let me make thee mine, and let him make thee mine:


======== CHECKPOINT 011 OUTPUT # 004 ========

Diamond-pelt-and-basket-in-the-headlight” which, after being placed in the glass, is set forth in full light.
The next morning the following morning, there, in their haste to obtain the help of their new friends, they are seen again at the entrance of their chamber, and beheld, with a little white flame at their head, and with an indignant look, their faces beheld and filled with astonishment, being at once afraid and sorrowful, and in a rage.
“My dear friend, where is it that I do not fear you? tell me.” said the young woman in such a voice, as to break the news, and show the youth the beauty which was in him,
“Why, your father’s honour is dead, and the kingdom of heaven lost, and thy birth is no more.”
“The prince of all men that is dead, he, by himself, never can live again,” quoth the other, “if you would permit me to live.”
“And so you,” said he, “and so I must live, by myself, and by others. I am not a coward, but one who keeps your fear to myself, and who fears you too to take care for me, but you must live, and I will live, and this, and this.”
When they were in this state of thought, they did take one of them to the door, whereupon she answered in the manner that she desired, and the others to their doors, and by some reason did leave her alone.
In that day, when they were still in a state of fear, they thought they saw their king being sent away, and had, for the purpose of having him told, made a new account of their past deeds; but the true reason, as well as the true meaning, was, that they knew not the true way of his coming, so that he did not think of his coming but of his death, and that they were dead, being buried in this place.
The other men being in this state of feeling, they did in that same place make the best excuse to the other;
“The prince’s blood hath been shed by the devil,
And his spirit be damned by me, and in my womb by my blood.
And by thy blood thy son, and thy daughter’s soul.”
“Then, thou shalt live, and I will live,
And not be born for thee,
For thy death’s sake shall not stop the king from his own death.”
The young man then came back to the house, and the maid of their guest, being there with them, and so did their queen, whom they had done their honour.
“My queen,” cried the queen, “My queen, my queen, my queen,
O my queen, my queen, my queen, thou hast been so rude to my son;
What a kind of praise, what a good day of my life!
But my child was too young, and in her infancy could not bear the thought of being so fond of her mother;
She gave her life to a poor mother, and now she is gone and gone too;
The king, being gone to a state of rest,
To this he would, without his father’s counsel, dine with her in a state of disgrace;
His mother’s mind, being so busy in her sorrow,
For a while on her grief,
She dined in a state of love, and her mother’s mind would not look upon her;
And when it came to her, all the maidens who sat upon the seat of thine eyes,
Laughed and gave praise, and kissed the ground of their feet, and went and kissed again;
But the maidens in all were now like a dead horse,
And their lips were filled with tears:
And after a long pause, she brought out her handkerchief, and threw it to his eye;
And now she did look on him and said:
“My beloved queen! if you cannot love, my dear,
You are a child, for me my friend.
How will your heart be content if I have lost you?
My dear beloved, my love is no less yours;
For what I fear, what I covet is yours.”
“My dear queen,” quoth he, “you can never make my heart love you.
For I fear that no sin, no foul deed,
Should ever do to me more than to do to your queen;
My dear queen, for the sake of love’s sake,
Thou art the sweetest, the sweetest of my life,
To make my heart love me, in my youth,
To make my heart love me; to make it love me I will die.”
“My darling, my beloved,
I shall never forget this night’s story.
The maiden

======== CHECKPOINT 011 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Lo, thou hilt say,
With my eyes my lips; and if thy mouth was not full,
‘Who doth call me foul and say,
O thou my lord, thou dost call me sweet.
But I will not do thee honour by this:
So let thy lips be filled with love,
But my heart not with love.
As for thee that am not of her,
Let your heart remain, and let me be your head,
And thy face the world to judge
And what my heart should judge thee from.
For the world, when we think that we have done
And have done,
To say the truth that we have not done,
Who then is my true self?
When I know thee with a heart,
When I know you in thy bed,
Where I see thee alone,
I shall lie with thee, and I shall not see thee.
My lips do not deceive you with words,
And when they do deceive,
I will kiss you on your cheek,
And I shall kiss thee at the lips of my love.
And thou, my lord, wouldst have done more,
than did I do.
For in my heart, my love, I love thee,
But in your heart I love you.
To you I do not love myself:
My love, though my heart still grieves my dead soul,
If thy love be not so,
My love be not so much,
But my soul be not so much.
The truth, though I see thee doth dote
My love’s sweetness, and my tongue doth speak.
How much more could thou give me
Give me thy love in return,
That I might say thee true,
Thou art my self, and my soul,
If thyself in thee, in me
Let him know the world, but thou not see it;
And he who is the child’s eye,
is not the eye of my eye,
but is my self;
He who doth judge with his eyes,
Is not my self my self.
But all this thou dost do,
O, who is thou my love’s daughter,
Who doth give thyself a kind name?
The words of that name, when I have heard
The name of my love, which thy lips say,
My soul’s lips say nothing but what I hear:
But thy words, which you write not,
Your life’s meaning that I should read,
When I die, the world’s time,
When I live, the world’s time;
All the time, if you please,
That they should judge in their own hearts,
That they should judge by their own judgment.
If, therefore, thou dost do my love,
And to thyself I will say my love,
That the world is your heart, and I am thy self,
That I am your self’s love, and I am thyself.
Who dost say thy love doth not kill thy love?
Who dost say, ‘But if it did not kill my love,
My love shall die’?!
‘No, let him be dead,’ my lord,
‘Let him be dead!’ my lord,
I will not kill your love,
I will not kill your love’s love,
‘Who do you think your love’s love,
‘Do you think my love’s love’s love,
That your love’s love might live on,
that it might live with you:
I cannot take thee away from me,
What I have done, why do I steal thee away?
To whom I have done it?
‘My dear friend,’ says she; ‘why do you rob me?
‘I shall have no friend to rob,
But to rob thee I shall steal thee away.’
‘Then I’ll ask thee; why do you steal me away?’
‘To borrow thee away to steal me away?
‘Because I’ll steal thee away to borrow thee away.
‘That is why I stole thee away;
That I stole thee away to steal thee away.
Therefore do I take thee away,
That I take thee away to steal thee away.’
‘For what, if my love doth steal thee away?
‘Because I will steal thee away to steal thee away.’
‘And, behold! my heart says, ‘My love is so sweet
That it will burn in a fire.
When I die, my love doth burn in a fire:
For I, my lord, doth judge,
with thine eye, my heart doth judge.
In the world, that I live,
Where my love doth live, where my love doth judge,
that I judge, where my love doth judge,

======== CHECKPOINT 012 OUTPUT # 001 ========

price a year,” said he; “but for me it is a thousand times more necessary.”
“Are they all guilty of being so?” cried I, “but you have been quite content in this, for if they do not confess their sins, you will not have the power of chastising them? do not they confess, but are still to be brought in to the same fate with your own children, and you will be guilty of every crime of yours?”
“I see,” said he; “there is no need of reproach to a man, or one of those things which are well known; I will be willing to give you their due in return, I will not allow their guilt to affect the present.”
“That’s the truth,” I replied, “your husband, if his father ever married, would never be able to bear it, his daughter being an infant; if he did, he could not keep the young man from marrying; and if she were such an abomination that he could not bear it, and should never have him, he could not love the child, even if she were the mother of his son.
“Why do you think I am to blame?” said I, “but how could I not love him if he was an infant? but I did love him, and he is my true husband; he did not hurt my spirit, and did not kill me, yet I am in a state of being guilty of all my crimes, though I do not yet confess myself to be guilty. I do not say I did not do my work; but I do not say I did it for no pleasure; but that I did do it, I can say it in some kind of feeling of relief, if not in the feeling of a feeling I will never perceive.
“I had such an accident in the morning, that my eyes could not get out of the dark, nor did I have the courage to read what I did do, but my mind saw nothing of what I did. I am no less than a slave to my father’s love; if this should be your love, you will have it; but I will say that I have no more of this love than my own; if I did not write it, I shall do it as well as I did my father did; I cannot bear to hear it be heard, for it is the very words of my father.
“I shall not, then, tell what I did in my work, because you are my friend, and I am your slave, and you will see my master’s face: but I did read, and this is what you have read; for you know that my father is mine, and that I did it, but that you did not do so, and that I did not know it, but that you did it, and that I did not know it.
“And this is what I say now, and I will not say again, except with my eyes, but with my tongue, and your tongue will know all my words, as well as I know them: for as far as I know, you have not seen the hour of your beauty, nor have I ever been there when I was in that place: but I am your friend, and your slave, and I will tell you that I was there, when you were young, I did have pleasure in you; you are a new beauty, that is, a beauty that can have no part, but will have a part, to express all of your affection: you, your child, your child, all have been that beauty: but I have no children and cannot see them, for what use do you have them for? you do not use them, do not make use of them, but leave these out to be used by your servants to sell to your own servants; for all you have done in the land, you have not done to do them, but to do to my father.
“When will my father see you again?” said I. “His eyes must stay on you, and he cannot tell his own love to his father.”
“Why, then, shall we say, as you want, and I ask you, where is this night?
“Well, he may seem to be dead, but I thought I saw it,” answered I, “a fire going from a window; if you did not kill the fire then I have a thousand things to be done; but in his heart, there is nothing for him to do, but to write to you, and all this, and to do all he will, to give to me that sweet treasure of mine which he knows cannot be had again, for you and him, I am your true friend, and I will prove you my true love.”
“Now,” quoth he, “you do not have to kill this fire, but take it out again as I did to show you my true love. I will not have to do this again, for I have never

======== CHECKPOINT 012 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Delhi-Harif-Ijaz, a friend of the Prophet’s.
The story was told that in his heart was his heart, and in his mind his thoughts he was living, for it was not so, and there was no power but the eye which sees no shadow, nor his head the eyes of a stranger, nor his mouth the lips that cannot talk, nor his fingers the nails that are not made of wood, and therefore cannot touch and drink, nor do the fingers move; but in his heart are still thoughts and emotions, and he knows that not one will deny, nor one should fear, nor one must fear, but all must love one another.
“O, my dear Lord,” she said, “it is as the morning, as if it were noon, when my eyes were to go to sleep, my arms are to go to bed, and I am to stay till noon, when all my thoughts shall be in that state.
“O, no, I have no time to kill the hour, since the hour of death is noon, and my heart to be in haste to die, while I lay in a bed for the night with my heart still on my side.
“But it is not this hour that I shall kill thee, as it is in the hour that thou art to die.
“No, I have no time to kill thee; if thou hast no desire to destroy, it is in my power to keep thee from destruction; if thou hast no desire, it is in my power to leave thee from the night, and to leave thee from thy true self.
“So I will be with thee, and there will be peace and not pain to thy sight; nor didst thou wilt have such pleasure in your love as I have to show to thee that what I say will be the beginning of all this.
“The fear of thy fear, so long since as thou wilt be with me, shall leave thy heart and thy mind behind, and thou shall live with me in hell!
“Him and I shall not be dead, and thou shalt remain as a widow.
“But I am dead, and I will go on, and all my spirits shall be dead, for I shall live till all my powers are gone.”
“This is to answer the question of which thou hast had such a bad mind, and what it has done for me.”
“O, this world must be my life; for to live with me is not good; and, seeing the way that thou hast had this world, why shouldst thou not live with me now, for what then, shall I have to live with thee for ever?
“O, where then shall I get thee, when I shall have done so much as to have been in prison? when you shall have made me a prisoner?”
“Then do not look upon me now, and do not do that which you say I do, and what I did do that thou do; for if you look upon me now, and what I did that thou do, thou shalt be a slave in my prison.”
“O, then you are wrong in that, and that you are right in your view, because I am a slave; and in the past thou hast done injustice to me, and I am guilty of it.
“O, that is why I did not love thee and did not bear my child when you were two.”
“O, that was my wrong! the slave in me did love thee, and did bear my child!
“O, it was my fault, and it was a fault of mine, and thou shalt be thy slave, and be my daughter!
“O, in this world thou hast made the world wrong, and thou shalt be thy slave!
“O, that was my wrong, and thou shalt be thy slave, and be my child!
“O, in this world thou hast made the world wrong, and thou shalt be thy slave, and I am thy child!
“O, in this world thou hast made the world wrong, and thou shalt be thy slave!
“O, that is why I had not a brother, and did not seek for a husband, and did not love the child, and did not love my love to her.
“O, in this world thou hast made the world wrong, and thou shalt be my slave, and I am thy child!
“O, in this world thou hast made the world wrong, and thou shalt be thy slave, and I am thy slave!
“O, in this world thou hast made the world wrong, and thou shalt be thy slave, and I am thy child!
“O, in this world thou hast made the world wrong, and thou shalt be thy slave, and I am thy child!
“O, in this world thou hast made the world wrong, and thou shalt be my slave, and I am thy slave!

======== CHECKPOINT 012 OUTPUT # 003 ========

acceptable of my life to be like my parents, and that my self might not be like them: to be like their self is what I am: I did say so, I did not write.

And so I should not have been like my father, not even as my father, but as a dead man,

The man of the desert, dead in my veins,

As he died and the man whose breath he spoke,

What do you think of the beauty of the dead?

That, you can see, this poor youth,
a man whose whole life has been

Painted with the blood of the dead, a child

His beauty in life as it lies buried,

O thou young woman, the most wretched of dead men;

And what shall we do with thee?

To get thee, or to give thee some

From the wretchedness of the dead,

Or of the suffering of the damned,

Or of my own being, or from a stranger’s love,

As to myself, if I should be dead,

How would he be with me?

‘Tis a common proverb: death is a part,
Yet, in this age and age after,
It is true that to be true
In all men lies their part,
That to be true in all men lies their part,
and for them is the same
The greater part, the lesser part,
The greater part, the lesser part,
the greater part is the less;
So how often a man in his right hand falls,
His face being as soft as a spring’s head
And like that the springs’ spring-buds spring?
When she hears the spring’s sound,
And when her face beheld the earth-shaking spring,
she finds it unwholesome to fall?
But when she is in her hour,
The hour she did not wait
For her own sake to make it seem
As if she were dead, that so the life of this world
might bear.

‘I do not love thee,’ quoth she, ‘though thy sweet breath can not cure me.

‘The child,’ quoth she,’shall not love me!

What a wretched youth I am, if thou hast forsaken me.’

‘Not at all! she knows I can not love thee!

Then thou art not my brother, and that I did not love thee,
that thou shouldst forsake me,
Who were my slave-beaters, and my father’s love?

If a woman should see that I have done a deed,
She will not stop, and my shame shall not be hid.

Now what was that worth me, or what did that worth?
What was that worth the sum I gave
To be worth to live, or what did that worth
For me to live?
or what did that worth me to be?

Why then did I hate thee, and not love thee?
yet, I must not kill thee,
The truth would not bear me out of my sorrows.

Nor shall I die, nor will I love thee so much,
Though my soul be buried in thee.

‘Nor will I die, nor will I die:

No more will I say, and yet no more will I say,
Who is my brother, nor my father, nor my mother,
My brother, my brother, my father, my mother’s love?

No longer will I bear thee, nor will I die,
but I will live a long time,
By means of thee to help me to bear thee:
And yet thou wilt not bear me the loss:
for thou dost not know me, thou that I am:
thou that didst die to live my sorrows
Thy tears were the tears of the dead;
Thy tears were the tears of the dead,
And to weep thou didst drown my sorrows,
Because thou didst lie down beside me,
To weep to me the tears that drench thee.

O, you say that one thing thy tears would not do?

It is the loss of a thousand lives:
Which thou hast done to kill thy mother,
To put thy blood-curdling soul at the heart of thy
Blessed be thy self,
And to put thee in thy hand:
What I can say to thee will have to do:
The true shame is the loss of the true,
The true loss will be the loss of thee;
And with thee all thy guilt will remain,
And with thee all thy grief will remain:
Nor will I bear thee the loss that thou didst bear me,
That thou didst lose my soul,
When I should

======== CHECKPOINT 012 OUTPUT # 004 ========

respect in me, and on account of my weakness.

What would I have done if I did have to make my eyes wide and wide open to see,

And that others be seen,

The rest be seen? how could I have,

If I not be seen, what part of the world?

Who, whose heart must be so mad,
Who in the world, when there is no such thing,
where in a night’s night, when there is a night’s rest,
all the world could no longer be,
Which one of them should be my dear friend?

No one could, none could, no, not that I had loved

Even this, which would have been a crime,
Had, like a coward, forced me to bear,
And now, at the hour of your loss,
Will your heart beat so fast, in my heart
will you find mine so hard?

Why did my heart stop beating,
that a little heart should so slow

How can I be loved as thou art,
And so, for thee to have so much love,

Make me love thee, my best-nigh mistress,
When thou hast so much love.

When a man lies dead, he doth not seem,
but it doth not appear;
O thou that have no more pain than he.

How could I hate thee,
For, my dear friend, I do not hate you;
Thou mayst do them what they say:
‘O dear friend, my death is in vain
Till death I give a lesson,
And the day will not come that thou shalt die.

I give thee time to write some new and pleasing story.

‘My sweet, sweet friend, where did I put thy time,
My heart, my dear heart, is in vain:

My tongue and heart, in which did I write it:
To give this tongue thy praise,
To give this tongue thy life,
To show thy love and love,
Thy love and love and love’s love, mine love.

Who shall give thee the most love, my dear friend,
Which shall give me the most death?
wherefore did thou put thy heart in the fire?

For I am the fire which is the true fire,
To burn you with fire’s fire;
My blood, my fire, my blood, my blood,
In thee, my dead heart, in your body!
‘My fire, my fire, my fire’s fire;
What my fire is, to burn thee with my fire!
my fire’s fire, my fire, my fire’s fire!
‘For, how is thy fire so precious?
my fire, my fire, my fire,
what thou, my dear friend, do not write;
thy fire, thy fire, thy fire’s fire!
‘My fire, my fire, my fire’s fire!’
So the fire which thou write,
Till death, I shall burn thee with my fire.
But I should not so speak,
But this, that I may say more,
That I may have thy love.

My fire! my fire! thy fire! thy fire! thy fire! thy fire!
I give thee my fire to burn thee with mine fire.
This, too, I do not like;
For it seems to me that I am not alive,
Nor that thou hast done more.
For mine love’s fire burns it in thy fire.
‘Love’s fire, my love’s fire, my love’s fire,
O sweet soul, where did my love write it?
Where did my love write it,
Thy love, my love’s love’s love?
‘How shall I be loved, and how shall I be condemned?
where shall I not be burned,
And if I die, how can I live?
My burning soul, my burning soul,
In thy burning body, in thy burning body!
‘My burning soul, my burning soul,
My burning soul, my burning soul!
my burning soul, my burning soul!
‘The world, in thy burning self,
For the sun hath light: thy sight is no more,
No longer mine sight;
And his light was mine eyes: thy sight was mine eyes,
His light was mine eyes, thy light was mine eyes,
And behold, he whose light is gone was gone:
But if that were not so,
O my lord, I will kill him by the sword!
“O, behold, I did kill him,” cried the weeping wolf,
And, seeing she should die,
She fell, and fled like a dove in a dove’s lust.
And she saw no one but him,
And she did not

======== CHECKPOINT 012 OUTPUT # 005 ========

flush to have them come out, with each other, but their eyes did not open their mouths, and yet there was no longer the light in the eye, but darkness in their eyes; for they knew not where to look, neither do they see, but do not know how they did hear.

Then the voice in their ears quivered, and from the edge of their lips, through a sharp crack of the stone she had put their eyes against, she said,

“Hear! Hear! thou hearest me, and my voice is gone,

The sea’s wind and tempest hath gone,

And the sky’s moon is gone,
So my life will not go.

Then come thou to thy land,
And to the city thou shalt die,
That is my dwelling,
and I will bear you to thy doom;

O thou that wast born of me,
Shall do I bear thee to thy doom?

The stars were set upon your face,
And the hills rose to your breast;
And I doth not be with thee;
Thou dost not make me stand,
For I do not live with thee,
That is my city and my purpose.

-O thou that wast born of thee,
Thou dost not live with thee,
For I do not live with thee;

I will live with thee no more,
For I do not live with thee;

Thou dost not live with me,
For I did not live with thee;

Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou dost live with me no more,
Thou d

======== CHECKPOINT 013 OUTPUT # 001 ========

queue in your hand that is held in your hand.
The second time, you hear my voice, and all your minds are in confusion, but you are in a deep groan.
“So, if thou art in a bad humour, and yet thou art right: then, let our hearts find each other’s breath in the name of God:
When he takes the breath, so long the sun is shining, the stars are redder, the stars are bluer,
And all this doth the most want the love of all things:
And they say it is that I hate most, because in me,
Of that which is most, and my greatest loves is most grievous:
Thou dost, in my heart, speak of death,
What death is that dost bear?
that all is dead which dost bear?
Who dost bear death, and what death is dead?
‘Tis to my love what that was,
What that dost bear I dost bear,
Who bear death, and what death is dead?
This last is not my love,
But if I should fall, that all my love’s loss would be,
And all my thought would be in her.
“But for you,” quoth she, “not this thy love,
Which in her honour made me,
For my sake, so thou dost love her more,
That thou dost love her so as that my heart may not be disturbed:
that I may no more die of thee;
‘Tis not my love,
That thou dost kill me,
That I am not dead, and yet thou art not dead.
‘Tis not thy love, that I kill thee;
No, thou art dead,
Because I had not this, but thee did,
That thou didst kill me, and my life hath done;
For so the night that thou was my bed,
And as night that I am yours,
And so all night that I am mine,
Thus did I live with thee, and I do die with thee:
No, thou art not dead,
Unless thou wert this dead;
But where it hath gone, thou art dead
That this, and all my death,
I do not know where it was;
It is no more, thou wast my mortal,
For what is in me thou wilt have;
Then was I my being, thou was I not,
But what was in thy being, thou wast so,
The body of the dead, not mine,
That thou was my self, that it is mine;
To this life it had no place:
For so am I, now thou wast dead:
But here is my self still:
“But where did I die? I did die,
Where now did I live?
I did die for the day that thou wilt have:
But what I did do was for the day that thou wilt have.
This I did be, and thou wast me,
This thou wast my self, that I gave thy self,
That thou wast mine, thou wast mine.”
As though she thought it were her fault,
Even as she was proud to express how she loved her friend,
So she felt a fear that she could not kill;
Yet still she did slay him by this deadly blow,
In the act of slaughtering him, as if she could not kill him.
“Then be quiet,” quoth she, “and thou art dead,
And I, too, in my grief,
Will be silent for ever in thee;
Then that thou art dead, I will not let thee live,
And yet shalt thou dost die: thou shalt be my son and my wife,
If, through thee this art thy virtue,
For thy love doth reign, and my self doth live.
“I die in your bosom,” quoth she, “and in my self’s womb
Thou art the life-giving seed of my life.
O love, for love’s sake, thou dost kill me.
For it’s my love, and not my self’s,
And not mine; why should I want?
For not being my love’s self, I cannot bear my loss.
But I will not kill thee; not having a part to take,
My self’s fault will be mine:
That thou art in my self’s worth.
“When my heart is filled with grief,
The tears are still there, the blood is fresh,
The bloodless blood will not be my death;
The breath from the grave is not breath of life.
Now to all eternity I pray,
‘O love, to all eternity I pray;
For if thy breath can breath, it will stop the breath.
“To whom the breath

======== CHECKPOINT 013 OUTPUT # 002 ========

stuck for the most part.

“There are a couple of you that I will let you know but I will leave you alone. I cannot live with those. I want you to live with me.”

“How are you sleeping?”

“You know that this is my day, that I have gone to bed in this chamber.”

“You see?”

“No. I am in bed, and you are in bed, and I am in bed, and you are sleeping with me.”

“But why have I been night without seeing you?”

“Because you must never sleep in this place, but I have not had it yet, and cannot, and neither can I.”

“Why then, O mad wife, do you fear that you will lose your child?”

“I know my fear; I have never lost one child, but in the world I am growing more, and I believe that all things, all things must be born of thee, but that is not thy wish.”

“This is my life, this is my beauty, this is thy beauty, my beauty, my beauty, my beauty.”

“O, then,” said I, “let me hear it for myself.”

She did not know what I said, but, in silence, said: “Your beauty! your beauty, your beauty; this is no one else’s beauty; this is a true beauty, a true, and true beauty; therefore, all things which thou hast made and that which thou have created, are false; but thou alone, my dear mother, thy son’s love, thy wife’s love.”

“You may know I cannot live without thee,” replied she, “but that is your nature, your nature. Your true nature, your true nature.”

“Ah! you are a man’s mind,” said I, “a man’s eye, a woman’s eye, a man’s tongue, and I am your wife’s tongue, for I know your heart, my heart knows you, my tongue knows you; therefore, thou art your wife’s mistress, thy mistress’s mistress, thy mistress’s mistress. I am your true love, my true love. I am yours, my true love. And thou art my wife’s mistress, my true love. I will be your love. I will be yours, my true love.”

“The mistress must be mine; I shall not give you her, nor her the hand which makes me yours, nor her my mistress’s mistress’s mistress, nor her my mistress’s mistress. I will be her mistress’s slave, my slave’s slave; I shall not take up her trust and make you her trust, nor her maid’s trust, nor her maid’s maid’s maid’s maid’s maid; nor your trust and my trust will never survive; nor your trust and mine will not survive, nor mine will not survive. I will have your trust, mine alone, mine alone. I will be your love, my love, my love’s love, my love’s love; therefore I will have your trust, mine alone, mine alone, my alone.”

“My love,” said she, “let me know this to the queen of her majesty; then she will bear with her grief.”

She did not know what it was I was being done; she did not know that I had never seen her, or her face, nor my lips nor her face.

“O, poor my love, my love, my love’s love, my love’s love, my love’s love, my love’s love, my love’s love, my love’s love, my love’s love, my love’s love, my love’s love, my love’s love; therefore, that which I have made, that which thou hast made, thou shalt have done for me; for what I have not made, that which thou hast not done for me is mine; not mine that thou hast made, but mine that thou hast done for me is mine;

I am your true love. I will be thy true love. I will be yours, my true love; and yet it must not be that I am your true love;

But wherefore, in your true love,
The true love with whom thou art reconciled is not mine;
For to me it must be thy true love that thou hast made me this love,
For, being made to love, thou hast made the love that I am;

For the love of thy true love, thou dost lie! thy true love, thou dost lie! thy true love, thou dost lie! thy true love, thou dost lie! thy true love, thou dost lie! thy true love, thou dost lie! thy true love, thou dost lie! thy true love, thou dost lie! thy true love, thou dost lie! thy true love, thou

======== CHECKPOINT 013 OUTPUT # 003 ========


The event is part of the National Youth’s Day ceremony.

She took her seat and then, in one sitting, her voice, “The day is done!”

The sun was shining upon his cheeks;
And then the old men’s voices came,
And with them the tears began to gape;
They began to talk about the things,
And now the sad-faced girl was weeping,
They are gone, but the sorrow-chasing tears are
Not so great as if she’d had tears,
And so it is that I take her out
The place of that sweet and sad day,
That she did tell her self,
And that night, as she was looking up,
She ducked down in front of her father’s door
And went through the door into the living room,
He, on his bed, stood up straight, and there stood
A great woman, with white locks, with long hair,
So long as she took her seat there,
She took her seat in the old man’s bed,
And said, “Dear son, my dear son,
That’s my mother’s fault,
For she loves you, not mine,
Yet when she had time to look up to you
She would have left all your woes and dines,
To do her due kindness a favour,
That by your love, you may do your duty,
And then when you are come up the fair maid-like fair,
That your love may make you happy,
And your love may make her happy,
And your love will make her happy,
For my sake she loved thee,
And your love would make her happy.

How then did it take you so long to love me?
That I should lose all love?

Well then, if that’s true, why did I lose all love?
Well then, I have no doubt of the truth
Of what was your fault;
And I can say by no means,
that I did so much harm,
That I did harm more,
That I had some good reason to do so;
But you seem to be right, I think,
And it may be that the true case
Of your own fault is true;
But, the false case is worse,
More true is your excuse for it.

Thus then the true case becomes plain,
And I am not the more angry,
With a false view of it,
That makes my view of things wrong.

‘My poor boy!’ quoth he, ‘I want to be in my bed with you,
And my eyes, my ears, my chest,
But that bed I am in,
To let others see how I am,
As I have been,
For I want to see you better,
Then I want you to believe me:
If you look hard enough, you can find my face,
Or else you might look away and let me see,
Some of the world’s best women,
Which, in the world, in spite of my love,
As if they were all blind, will be seen,
And that blind is what you are all deceived,
That is, your view of beauty.

To say she did not think it necessary,
That she should say she was mistaken,
So to my mind that it was a question,
And in me that she would answer,
When in no part of her mind should she answer,
Her eyes in every eye she seemed,
And in me were that eye with which she doth see,
Which she never saw, nor was there sight.

‘Look at how it looks,
Like a knife, she draws in her free hand
And when he throws it into her breast,
she holds his arm till she finds it,
And, with one hand, he thrusts at her breast,
The blood she drew from her breast flowed,
And in the open air, she held his arms in her own.
‘What a waste!’ quoth she, ‘a knife, you’ll never kill me!
To have a knife,
To have a knife, you will kill me!’

What a waste!’ quoth she, ‘a poor lad from a rich household,
Will take away my love and leave it alone!
He will take away my love, and that love alone,
And I will kill him, because he is his love,
And all my love will be lost to him;
To my mind, the night was past,
The fair maiden and the boy
Who were in my heart.’

‘And what a fool will steal her heart
And rob her heart in a sad kiss?’ quoth she.

‘Thou art my friend, sweet prince;
That I should love thee, if thou art my

======== CHECKPOINT 013 OUTPUT # 004 ========

books to a young man.

“What can I do in this, dear man?” said I,

“When you have seen so many dainty figures,

‘Look what they have done to you, what they have made you say.

And all this time the wind has not kept my spirit,
Nor I feel the cold wind so much as in my cheek.

‘Well,’ said I, ‘perhaps in a few hours time,

And as you are at your bedside, you will be in your way.

What kind of men’s heart hath not made a man so proud?

What a lovely love hath it not made,
And so I should be ashamed of you for it.

“But then your jealousy will be revenged,
If he make any use of it,
His pride should be at peace,
And his lust of love be so much revenged.

‘What is a man to do when he thinks the wind’s blow is windy,
Which makes him feel so much love,
That he should feel himself so much loved,
That he should not let go his heart’s desire,
That he should think he might not fear himself.

“My love is not that of thee,
That I could be thou so strong;
Nor is it, that thou shouldst hate me;
Nor can I be of that I would despise thee,
That thou shouldst never think of me;
But in me thy love is a true bond,
Which I am not content with for ever,
Like mine own love, that I should cherish.

“My love is not to be in thy sight,
Nor is it to be in thy mind,
That the eye may see but thou must not see;
‘Now,’ said I, ‘why should thou not see that I live?’
‘I have no wish to die of shame;
To live is not the life that can live
In thee, though in thee I live;
For that is not what I owe thee.

“Yet, when your heart, for my sake,
My heart, in thy heart,
And all my love to thee,
I will never be as happy with thee,
And so thou shalt die of shame and shame!
“But now thou art, my dear son,
Thy love is not my heart,
My heart is all mine, my heart the self,
Thy love is the self which I have;
It is a self worth mine own,
Though I make a name for myself.”

“And then,” quoth he, “we shall make a rule!”

“You, my lord,” quoth I,
“and I will rule you to your heart,
And to my heart of yours I will die.”

“‘To be your mistress in my time,’ quoth she,
For she is my mistress;
She is to my heart my love,
She may do so, and I must have her,
That I may be your mistress.

“But now let them all go to bed together,” quoth she,
“for I do not intend
To kiss your breast as if I were yours,
I do not intend to kiss your breast as if you were mine;

But I will not be yours,
For I cannot live, nor you can live,
But you shall be mine.

“And now then do not your heart sing
Or your eyes sing the praises of thy love,
Nor should I speak thy praises in your mind,
In thy brain’s thought, nor should I be thy friend;
Now what a delight it is to speak my praise,
O thou so gentle, dear friend;
O thou so beautiful, dear friend:
This to thee thou art, what a joy it is to see thee;
Thou art my love, my love, my love:
Love shall make thy self the master;
Love shall make thy self the slave;
Love shall make thy self the master:
Love shall make thy self the slave,
And my love will make thy self the slave.

“My heart is mine, my love, my love, my love, my love!

I have loved thee well, my heart is mine;
Thou art mine to bear my love,
And I shall bear mine love;
But thou art mine, thou art mine, and so do I!

“So shall I have thee, my dear one,
And now shall I take thee away,
Because thy worth shall die of thy disgrace.

“But thou art so strong that my hand must be stronger,
For I am not a sword, nor a dove,
Nor a beast in your arms:
But in thy hand is strength, and strength is

======== CHECKPOINT 013 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Nintendo and Nintendo’s big-name characters.

As the world’s first “Dirt-Bearing” Nintendo character, Yoshi is also a strong advocate for his company, despite his strong character design.

Yoshi’s art is a bright light, and his smile shows some love, and his dark-hearted nature can be seen in his smile.

Yoshi’s art is a bright light, and his smile shows some love, and his dark-hearted nature can be seen in his smile. He wears a red hat, and his arms are wide, so he appears to be a bit like a bird; but if he are still wearing his hat, then they are a different shade of yellow, but at that time it is clear they have never been dyed green.

He is sometimes called the “Black Devil” by the characters who appear, and he is one of the few characters who is not a Devil; he can be a true Devil, and yet at that time did not deceive the world, nor did he deceive the world’s ears, nor did he deceive the hearts of the earth; he was an enemy unto the wind, and was not so strong that it can be kept quiet by the wind.

He did not leave home, nor in his place would I seek him.

A certain character in the story lives by his own love,

That the world may see him as true to himself.

The day he goes away from home,
Will have some news from him that he may not have.

What he did not tell others, and what he did not tell,
His self-made thoughts will deceive the world,
His thoughts will never be true,
So that the truth might be in him.

The book-seller said, “Yoshi, this is true.”

“How false are those false words, and what is wrong,
That one who is deceived in them,
When they have found the truth,
And when they have brought out the falsity.”

Then they say, “In his name he is an evil,
‘Twas his own good, and not his own creation.”

As the old proverb says, a lie, that deceives,
Than that truth lies in him.

Yoshi appears to be angry with me,
For I did not write this for his sake.

The words of one that loves,
And that hate, and are hateful,
Than I have written it for my sake.

“So that the world might see him as true to himself,
As his own true self.”

Yoshi was born and taught to love him,
He is not like the world, for no one knows that he loves himself so much.

The world is his friend,
The world’s friend is his friend,
The world’s friend is his friend,
The world’s friend loves him and is his friend;
When he finds a friend, he will not go for his friend’s sake;
And when he finds his friend’s friend, he will not be so fond of him as he is fond of mine.

When he finds the love of his self,
A friend’s love in all the world may be broken
In the world where I live, and where I will live;
When I find that love, I leave it to the world to find;
Then all the world is lost, and my love, and mine own self,
Where it will remain shall stay,
That I might be remembered with the world.”

The world may see him as true to himself,
Even when his self is ill,
But the world will see him as true to himself;
The world may see him as true to himself,
But the world may see him as true to himself.

“O, so it is with mine own eye
That I behold your self.
O, so it is with mine own eye
That I behold my self’s self,
Which you can see as far as your heart wills;
O, so it is with mine own eye
That I behold my self’s self as far as your heart wills;
O, so it is with mine own eye
That I behold my self’s self’s self as far as your heart wills;
O, so it is with mine own eye that I behold my self’s self as far as your heart wills;
When it seems to me that I am being so wise,
That it is my duty to teach them that I am so wise;
And I, with the love of your love,
Be thy fair, thy fair self:
Thou art all my friend, your fair self,
And this my love will give thee,
To the world with whom I am so dear;
This is your world.

O, the world may see me as true

======== CHECKPOINT 014 OUTPUT # 001 ========

oper of this crime;
“Who knows, that thou art the author of the crime?
But that thou dost not be thy true self,
Thou art the author of the crime, and thy self
Was doth the true self doth make thy self proud,
To avenge the name of thyself and the false thyself,
And in my pride that I do not say, I am one,
That my pride and mine pride have not the same name.
Whose true self is I now and whom I die,
The body of that one, and whose true self
Who would be thy true self?
If not in thy self, who is not?
How in thy self I am, and the truth,
So that it will seem to me the truth?
The night, when he goes to sleep,
He lies in a deep dusky bed.
The sun comes up from the deep dusky sky,
And sets it on the dusky hill,
Which is the sky of his soul and his body.
O this day I do not yet hate this day
When love comes and falls in my face,
That I fear I should not live to this day,
Because this is the day that thou shalt live,
When he dies in my day is my death,
When my life is thy life, and the life of the world.
But this he hath, the man in him lies,
His face painted with that colour of his mind,
That looks like a painting;
This is his nature, the beauty, and his kind.
He hath this fair woman, his mistress,
That when she is brought back from him
She gives him a new wife, and takes her home,
And the rest of the world sees their own beauty,
Which was all but to his own wife,
And then he is no more.
My love is mine and mine is mine alone,
And my dear wife and the rest of the world see my beauty.
‘But now that I am dead, what will I do?
‘I do not think I have much to do,
But what can I do but live?’
So, then, when she is gone,
She bids me a kiss; for she herself hath died,
She may not be with me yet,
And when she is gone she may never be with me.
Yet, if in this death she did,
That of her own life she did live,
That of mine life I cannot live,
The body of my soul that is still with me,
And this body of mine that is living with me,
Which she may not die of me;
Her body being dead, it will no longer abide
And I will remain dead for ever:
But now she bids me breathe a breath,
So that in her mind I may behold thy breath,
I will, as I have made thee proud,
My beauty will not bear thee out;
But she whose breath thou have made full,
That thou hast made thy eyes to be more;
And that thou hast made my eye to be more:
Let me therefore be so kind a man,
That in my self-made beauty I may have thee in me,
I might in all my parts be well-lived,
And in thy parts be good in all thy good.
O, for thou art so my self,
And therefore hast done all this for me.
What would it have been if thou didst not think me guilty?
I wish thou hast done this to satisfy my fear,
And then to be free from all my fears is happy,
And what a beauty thou art that looks on me,
Thou art that which is in my self-made love.
‘How long it will take thee to find me,
To make a wife of me,
Or for a slave to me,
To make a slave of me,
And slave of another slave,
And slave of all my children,
And my father’s will not be taken,
Nor the love of thee and of mine shall be.
O my heart, and thy soul,
Who dost know not thy art?
Nor the mind that loves thee,
nor the heart that loves thee;
Nor that which bears me witness,
Nor that which I am but my self.
The night where thou shalt lie still
A thousand times longer will I bear a stranger in my eye.
‘I am afraid, O dear lord!
O dear friend, I feel this feeling,
That I must die: it is my self,
And thou hast given me so much that I dare not bear thee out.
My eyes, therefore, and those of my self,
This heart with which thou hast sworn to me,
And thus it has made me thy self.

======== CHECKPOINT 014 OUTPUT # 002 ========

LOT, how are you supposed to be in your life? I know it’s wrong and there is no way you’ll ever change that, so why did you come back?

“It’ll be good to go to my place again, or to your own place, or to the place that I did call home, for this one’s still there;

And to find my love will be my doom,
‘Let him that knows not thy own name make it,
Who didst see the beauty of your youth so often show’d,
That no beauty, but I myself must say,
Is such beauty to thee, that thou hast no shame,
And if in truth thou dost give me thee any excuse,
Then will I love thee as thou didst make me;
And if thou dost give me thee a love I love more,
Nor by thy love do I love them more:
For as for the truth, so will I love you for the truth,
And it is I whom the sun may burn and the moon shine,
But you, O boy, are your father’s son.

“As you may see how the world begins, let us not be distracted,
For this is my way: it is my way for thee to do,
Or let our eye see nothing to see nothing,
When it is time, I’ll see no more,
Or when I do see nothing but love,
that which you so love in spite of thy love.

As far as thou art concerned, the world is not so good,
as in my time thou hast to live,
For that is too hard for me, and this is too difficult.

As thou hast such time spent in thy life,
I still want to leave thee, for I love you but not as I did before.

That shall have my death; that which was before that will not die,
and henceforth will I remain,
And in such a short time I shall love you all,
For ever have I been thus;
Yet it was my love, and therefore thou must be my love.

Now that thou have that which thou so much love,
And so that I am thus more than your love,
My soul in thy bosom didst kill me:
for it is thy self, to love this, and to do this,
In my love, and in this I am dead:
I have been so pure, but my love is gone,
Yet it was not your love, and that is my heart’s death.

As for you, thou dost, and I dost, my love hath done
And now I weep in it, for I love you,
As for myself, thou wilt not mourn;
But now I see thee dost weep, and thus I must
Have to do it, though thy face is a scarlet,
Or still more dost weep, but still I know it;
So what dost thou say I, that I am not my true self?
As thy false self, when thou dost boast of thy beauty,
To make the beauty of mine, thou dost so boast,
Yet how didst thou make me a true self,
Whose true self I didst make thy false self,
And still still it remains the same:
For thy true self, thou didst make my false self,
The first that I am, the last that I am:
And now when I have said what thou didst say,
Thy true self, that thou didst see,
Is my true self, that thou didst see,
Thy false self, that thou sawst,
Which thou sawst, it is my true self,
And I will show thee it, and then I will show thee it;
So that I shall show thee what I will show thee;
Then my true self shall give thee light,
and light from thence, from thence my true self shall give thee light,
Thou shalt be as thy true self is,
And mine true self shall give thee that which is thy true self:
If thou, my true self, do it, thou dost lie with thy true self.

I was thus in the bed in which my wife lay,
And I took from my hand the knife, and from my breast I tore.

The sun set forth again on the east shore;
And her husband fell down and was buried.

A fair fair maid, a fair maid of Venus,
She sat on her couch, and stood on the ground.

And I heard her neighing on, and on and on,
And then she came out of the room,
To hear her countenance rise,
Her countenance change, and then the countenance again rose.

For that she did

======== CHECKPOINT 014 OUTPUT # 003 ========

securing, though, and then you are to be called the son of God, and all my father’s sake: and I have nothing to do with you but by this: and, behold, if you are slain by me, you will die with me: that is my revenge, and I will kill you by my death.”

“The earth was made in my image, and your face was painted upon it.”

“Why did I take a garment from thee, as thou hast been that my face doth show in all my life?”

“Because I did steal thy face, as thou dost steal my face in thee,” quoth he. “But now thou have done, but why hast I not?”

“I fear I shall die,” quoth she, “and then this thing of mine will be that of mine. I am the thief from thence, who gave thee my face.

“This I fear, and I have no fear of thee,” quoth she, “and that, that thou dost make me my subject: it is better to die than die.”

“Why, thou art dead, why shouldst I not die?” quoth he, “this being the last hour of the world, I will not die to thee, and not thy death; and therefore thy death shall have no end.”

“So, if thou shalt, thou art not dead,” quoth she, “and I am dead, therefore you are dead to me, and therefore I have no end.”

“And so it was my sin to be born unto you,” quoth he, “but I did make you the one that I had made to be my own, and to be your slave: now I beg pardon for thy theft; now I beg the forgiveness of thy murder.

“If, so be it, I should kill thee, I did not kill thee: but that thy soul should be thy slave.”

“This he will not make me,” quoth she, “and if it were true, you could not be reconciled with it.”

“And therefore,” quoth he, “I would not do thy murder, but thy self would be the one being offended, and of those that were offended with thee.

“And therefore you will not be offended with thee; nor should I be offended with you, because I have done wrong thee.”

“Well! do not be angry,” quoth he, “but should not I be angry with thee, for he did do wrong thee.”

“And therefore not a thing hath done thee, nor a thing did I do, nor did I do any thing, nor did I do that which thou didst do.”

“Then therefore,” quoth he, “let me be my slave for ever, for ever I die.

But to my being done with thee in such a matter, you, I give you no excuse.

And therefore do I have every reason to be afraid of thee, for thou art not my slave; for if thou hast such reason, why should I not fear thee?

“I am a slave in you,” quoth he, “of men, so that if thou make me my slave, I shall bear you in servitude to each other, and with you in bondage to each other, till I make you my slave.

“But the fact I did take your image, and did make thee my slave; for I cannot bear it but in love of you, and this, that you do not desire me more, I am willing to serve thee, but your love is mine.

“Therefore I desire thee to have that which thou dost desire, and to love myself that which thou dost desire, and for thy sake to serve me, and that thou dost desire me in my love, and I in thy love;

And then the earth was made, and your face was painted upon it.”

“But now I do not say to thee that this was true, nor to thee that this was untrue, but that you knew it, as I now know.

“My life,” quoth he, “is not a life, my death is not a life; but the world, being all the objects of my attention, was made of things of which they had no part.

“But as I see from thee this, I do not say to thee that this is untrue, or to thee that this is true, and that thou dost not say to me this; but if thou do say it, then thy true being is mine, and mine is thy true self.

“But this is untrue, and this is untrue, and this is untrue; and this is false, and this is false;

And therefore if I had any desire of thee, and if thou shouldst say this, and thou dost not say

======== CHECKPOINT 014 OUTPUT # 004 ========

procedural “marshall” for the time being. (They can be found in many places of the universe, in every part of the universe, and in so many places in the universe that I will not mention them here; but they are here called morn-worshippers, and in their habitations are sometimes called mor-bearers.)

“The most striking object in this field, and in the other parts of the universe, is the matter in each of us that breathes: and therefore in that field of matter, it breathes in those parts that breathe, and those parts that breathe are the living things; and hence the substance thereof is dead.”

“But do not think that in this thing you shall learn much, and that no one of you shall see it.”

“Then you see it in the sight of all the world.”

“And then, I say, when a true man will have reason to believe, what shall he know of it? and why should he not, since he can bear no ill?”

“I cannot answer, except on this subject,” quoth he, “and I can not answer it, unless I do prove the same to you, for I think thou art more in need of proofs than I am; but, on the contrary, I think thou shouldst not have been so wrong, though I prove to thee what I am. I do know that in the world I have known, I am in need, I am in need, my time is at hand, and the day of my time is over; and yet, my time cannot be short, but in my time, my time must be long, and in this time no time can be short, I do not see nor think. Let us look not only at this, but not what follows; and therefore what follows must not be in haste: yet I have seen how some men live their lives by means of their own volitions; in others, by the means of those who use them; and in each case they must be careful. Let me see, then, what kind of man a man is and what kind of life he takes; and then, let us be as friends in those two times, as one friend to each other: and then I will say it to the world, and the world to me. I am your friend in a place wherein none can see but you, and I will not tell why your presence, and what purpose you gave me, were so many. I am your friend and mistress, and that of you, to whom I gave you. I love you, and I think you love me, because I am loved, and you are love, and that of you I am, and that of you that I am, are my love, and that of you that I am; and therefore I will tell you how I love you, and how I love you.”

“So now, then,” quoth he, “how did I know thou art dead? what is your cause? that thou art dead, that thou art dead, that thou art dead; I say not this to prove, but to show thee that thy will is not done, but my love is done, and therefore shall not prove this to you.”

“And to prove this to me, I say, do thy utmost diligence in looking through thy eye, which thou must not do without me, when thou art gone. and to prove this to myself, then I say, thou art gone, and I am gone, and yet thou dost not live: that thou dost not die, that thou dost not die, that thou dost not die, that thou dost not die; for I, when I dote in the heavens with the light of thy face, behold what they have done, and that what they have done do not stand at all, and thus thou wast not able to see. I have dote in the heaven of thy eyes, to look therein, and to see that thou art here, wherein thou art, where thou art, and whence thou art, and where thou art.”

“And here are some things which thou art in, that do not see me: wherefore hast thou gone?”

“For it is my will to give them up. I know not that they ever go. for they are all alive, I shall do them their will; but if they should depart, and their minds should come together again with their thoughts, and their desires would do them no good, they would all be dead, and not be able to come forth again, but they should all remain dead.”

“Then thou shalt know what thou must do,” quoth he, “if thou dost not live; for that which thou dost do, thou dost not live, and yet thou hast not lost this, and yet thou hast lost this, and yet thou have died.”

“Then thou must know

======== CHECKPOINT 014 OUTPUT # 005 ========

constitutional and unprincipled.
If your father’s tongue were a red, then he would have been proud, but now a white!
His lips gave him an angry wave of blood:
His pale neck would have made the sky a pale moon,
For all that he did was the last hope of his hope!
The old man, like a pale child, would give up
Even to have no other object but what he had,
To feed his own desire with his own thoughts,
For he was of his own making.
This, then, was how he should tell her,
Till she saw him, then she felt her heart’s cry:
‘Tis true,’ quoth she, ‘I’ll teach thee my lesson,
That thy life is not worth living,
Which you were once but to steal.
That was my name, and I shall now use thee,
Since I have all the grace I owe thee.’
The maid now turns her pale-coloured face to see,
‘My grace, my youth, my beauty,’ quoth she, ‘I have never lost my beauty.’
‘To thee then,’ quoth he, ‘I have beguiled thee so,
That I shall prove myself an old man,
A false king that had his name, whose blood and his pride did
Return, and his shame as shame again doth appear.
‘In the last, then,’ quoth she, ‘I’ll give thee strength for thy good,
For I believe thou, for ever thy sweet heart’s worth,
That every one is mine for every other’s sake,
For if I should be king, thou wast mine,
For I am the god of the world, and thou wast thy son,
Thy sweet mother should give me life, for she had no son
When my love died, but thou gave me life.
When my love died, but thou made me free,
Whose love gave all thy life to me.
The time of my death I will no longer live;
Who that thou canst live, who hath not life,
Who art alive, who cannot live,
Who never is alive, ever cannot be dead;
I will live with them, the dead with me,
Who live without death, my breath must be,
All my life, no thought, my breath is death.
“When this night hath come, thy eye shall not be seen;
Or shall you not see it when I return to sleep,
The earth shall no longer be where it was but your light,
Thy eyes shall not deceive me, but if thou wilt see,
Thy hand shall not do thee no good, but if thou wilt see it,
If thou art dead, thou wilt have no part in heaven’s proud war.
Thy eyes shall not deceive thee, but if thou wilt see,
Thy eyes shall not deceive thee, but if thou wilt see it,
The heaven shall not be thy dwelling place,
Or shall thou wilt have no part in heaven’s proud war.
“That night I shall die, and that night I shall live,
In my heart shalt thou find, and thou shalt have me,
As thy heart was, as thou wast, in all thy life,
That thou art mine, and my true self
That is in thy heart, and all my time in my life,
Till this world was as far away as I could find.
Thy love will never stay to me,
My love shall never stay in me.
Love will never leave my heart,
No one to be my friend nor my confessor;
Love shall never leave me, my love will never leave you.
I will make you, in thy heart,
Love to me, and love to you,
Love to all my parts, and all your heart;
I will make you, in my heart,
Love to all my parts, and all my heart;
My heart will be my guide, my guide my mistress,
My love will never depart thence,
No love shall ever find it again:
My heart shall never give it up to my friend’s heart;
My love will never stop there;
My love shall never cease there,
For love was born of love, but of love was born of all.
“All I have to do is to love myself;
When love is done, when she is done,
She is done and gone, and that last time there was,
Then all the other time there is, and that last time there was,
She will stay, and all that other time there is,
Even to die, but then death will stay in her sight;
And then all the world shall go mad,
And there will be a famine that shall last as long as is worth

======== CHECKPOINT 015 OUTPUT # 001 ========

eyeing on the earth, for he had no heart, and he had no heart to do so, and that is why he did not wish to be alive, but that his heart might sing thee praises.
So his tongue, the voice that he says should be so proud of it that he might break his heart, he will write to you that it is right, and you, being deaf and dumb, should be thy guide, and should be to you a witness and friend of thy friend; and thou shalt know that thou art the man with whom the world confounds, and that thou art the friend of me who beareth not her face.
Thou shalt see that thou art one with me, and thou shalt know the love that hath been made to me, and the love that hath been forged to me.
But to my dear friend, and my true friend, and all that I have in thee, is thy strength and thy hope;
Which I owe to thee, my life, your life, thy life’s life, thy life’s hope.

He takes his hat and takes his hat out of his hat and from his hat, and then they kiss and then kiss again, and then kissing again again,
This way I should do no more than to give thee,
Which thou shalt bear,
Which thou shalt bear with me, but which I shall not bear,
Unless thou hast some advantage of it for thy gain:
And I that thou dost not be proud of what thou shouldst be proud of,
With no praise of my own quality for mine own sake,
nor of thy own, for mine own sake,
I will not use a fair maid’s eye,
Nor an eye, nor a eye’s eye, nor one’s eye,
Or two eyes and three eyes, or four and five eyes,
Or forty three and forty-four, four and four, and four and five,
And thou shalt see in all thy parts, and in all thy parts thou must see,
Thy sight must be seen.
So now is it, that the king is gone with him,
Which will his son be gone with him as soon as he comes,
That he might not be in haste to take another,
And so in his way, and in his way back,
When he did run away he gave the following command,
Let all thy part be counted:
And in this part shall I count thy part,
Of all thy parts shall I be proud,
And all thy parts shall be proud of my worth.

And therefore all that she was, all her beauty,
She wore her beauty in her garments;
She wore his beauty in her garments,
And she herself was naked, and as the sun rose,
She sat down on the ground in a low state.
And then the wind began to break,
And the snow did set, and as the wind rose,
To make the day of my youth fade away,
That he that could make the day of my youth fade away,
And not die of any grief,
In the way of my youth, wherein I die.
And I love to death,
To that sweet end of the earth that I have.
And then I say to you, that it shall be mine in this life,
And thou shalt be thy friend to the devil in this world,
Even if thou make me to hate thee,
Unless thou shalt kill me, I will slay thee.
And he that speaks against the devil,
If thou do, and thou are my friend,
The devil will not make me to say I did kill you,
Nor his son will give thee a friend of thy own:
Therefore do not be afraid of this, for I shall tell
You how much it was a hundred and twenty-four;
My eyes did not burn like fire to behold it burning,
And the white smoke of thy eyes did burn like flame to see
The smoke in heaven burning like the burning fire on the earth.
When he that hears me say these things,
He is his own self, his own,
And all of the world is his own,
All the world that he did wrong, his sins and his sins,
And all his deeds are his sins’ sins,
And all his good deeds are his good deeds.’
‘O! thy eyes, what do I see,
To-day thou dost see the eye of all the world:
All my fair eyes of all thy eyes were to behold
And every flower of their gardens, and every flower of my gardens,
And my fair flowers were to behold,
And every flower of my fair flowers, and every flower of my fair flowers
And every flower of my fair flowers, and every flower of my fair flowers,
But my fair flowers were to behold, and every flower of my fair flowers,

======== CHECKPOINT 015 OUTPUT # 002 ========

vana for not having given up his wife’s love.
In her desire to obtain the love of those who love her, I made the best choice of him who is not in debt to me;
For I will not give thee what he is not worth to be worth to me,
That I may bear as many daughters as I desire to.
For my love is not to my own self, but the love of my mother.
For thou art my master, my self the head and the soul,
And yet are I mine in thy side.
When thou art my love I do not want;
When thou art mine eye I do not want,
For thy love didst see how thou gav-rify me.
Yet how long will I endure my disgrace to be your friend’s mistress,
When I have thee, my love that doth love me,
And when I love thee, I have no use for you:
But now I am with thee, and thy love shall love thee.
In thee have I made thy beauty;
If thou shouldst ever look in me thou wouldst never look again,
To find a greater thing in thee than I did see;
that my love might live, that I might be in thy sight.
“The world will not forgive thee for it;
For what it gives up, or receives, the time of thy day.
For I have put my love in the world,
And my love hath drawn a mortal heart on my tongue.
O thou that art so weak, as not yet endowed,
You are like that which is not in your womb,
That thou canst bear, but I can bear,
And that I can bear you in my heart,
In thy bed, or my bed’s breast,
Whose head the sun burns upon the earth,
And whose breast he that breathes bears cold snow.
“In thee shall we find love, and love our love
Of one’s own, with thy own alone;
For no one’s name or date or reputation
Of others’ will, and no one’s deed is of ours.
Whereof didst thou give me power to make love,
Or do I not have thee?
And if I had power, why not thee?
‘What a beauty is this beauty,
O true beauty that I may be,
And yet shall never be,
that I may be, or that I am,
For the love in thee I cannot do but love thee;
For this reason love hath no power,
No power or fame to make it praise
But what of love, what of love didst thou give me,
But my love and mine to him that gave me it,
Is love to you, and what of mine to him that gave thee?
O, my dear, where are you, and where are you,
O, the truth! where didst thou find me,
A fair field, or the land I grew,
Where thy flower could flower in thine,
In thy breast of silver you could find her.
What do you make of this love,
What makes thee so pure and lovely,
that it makes thee in your body,
And gives you all my love, that is love,
To make thee my subject.
“In thee shall we find our true self,
And make thee mine self.
To live on love, whereof hath it all been?
How to live on hate, whereof hath it all been?
What, what dost thou love,
That I will give up to thee what I must give me?
But all my life is so short as this time is.
Thou must not be here, but I will stay,
In a kind of dream in which a fair flower
Will fall, and she will appear,
And she will weep and be silent and weep,
And she will come back again and again and again;
And I will take her as my own to be mine,
And she will say she would love me if I had loved her.
‘”But now I see thy lips do hold on mine,
And you behold mine face as well,
When she takes it, the sun smiles upon mine,
And your cheeks do burn, and the sky is full,
And all the mountains all dangle,
Which were for my praise didst not light
With your lips in your eyes.
But now it is on your side that they are,
and your heart is hot that I am not,
For love is your strength, not mine weakness.
You shall not be the slave of mine self,
Even as I am your mistress;
For thy true self, I do not know;
But if thou make me my slave, my true self,
And by thy nature is a slave to all,

======== CHECKPOINT 015 OUTPUT # 003 ========


Thou art mine own

As I am mine own,

Like a jewel which can shine

When one strikes on her cheek, the other holds it still;

She looks on the maiden with surprise;
She looks upon her, with amazement,
And not at her but in her own:
Her face is the proud one with scornful eyes;
She thinks that they have put her in prison,
Or to be burned by burning fire.
‘To this end, I’ll lend you my thanks,
With whose eye it beholds the way of life
That we strive for the perfection of our heart
When men see all this love and love for the sake of their own;
For it is well known that I love thee,
And therefore thou shouldst remain in love with me.
I do not desire thy love, but thy love will be mine:
Thou art mine own, thou wast my wife’s maid:
And as thou art mine own, therefore it is thy own,
Whose self is mine alone, my self alone, my self alone.
‘”This then I do say, what if my self, though my self be dead,
Had no other self but thyself, to be my own;
Or what if thyself my self, my self alone,
Had no other self, but thyself, my self alone,
My self alone, my self alone, was never in my soul.
“The best way in heaven, when you behold the world’s sun
Your true self is in my breast.
‘So therefore, my heart is my heart,
And thy heart is thy heart.’
And so he takes his wife to him:
And they kiss, but the maid takes a seat.
‘”If thou love most, my love may be my heart’s love,
For the heart is my heart’s heart, for my heart is my heart.”
‘”Thy love is my heart,’ quoth he;
‘”When I love thee,’ quoth she, ‘I will bear thee back;
When I am with thee, thou shalt be my husband,
And thou shalt bear me back in the form of thee,
As if thou were myself an angel,
And the world’s breath on thy blood had taken hold.
And when thou hast my mind, I will bear thee back.
Thus they say, ‘We will give thee a bed.’
“But I am not his mistress,
Even for thee to write the night-wishes:
So what else do I say, my love’s love is mine,
And my love my love should not be your self,
If your self are thy own, and mine self be mine,
For what else dost thou write that this, that this should say?
What else can be yours but mine own?
The world makes my desire what thou desirest,
And I will make it to make thy desire what thou desirest,
For when I love thee, thou shalt bear me back.”
So that she looks upon him and looks round him:
Her heart quits her body.
‘What else should I say? I’ll do nothing else.’
Her eyes look back at him again.
‘No, dear, please excuse me,
To make no excuse of my love,
That I love thee but of mine own self,
And to be my own, and that, and to be that mine,
That in my self thou shalt live,
And to this thou shalt live.’
Then she runs away, and when he leaves she cries out again:
So did she, but she was not his wife:
for she herself knew how he had married,
But he that did not leave her was the true son.
Then he stood upon his throne and saw
Her beauty, and her beauty of heart,
Which her beauty had taught her not to give;
To his own eyes, he had shown his own love,
She had seen him but with herself,
Her beauty was like the stars;
Her beauty was like the sun;
His own eyes were like a stream of red light;
And his own eyes were like water that swam down,
And water that fled down was like a flood.
‘”As I, when I know you are mine,
Will never die but in the grace of heaven,
In the eternal fire, and in the eternal sun;
Then if thou, my love, will be my son,
That may live a perpetual love of mine,
Love, or life, in thee, thou shalt live,
But in thee, thy life shall be my death.”
‘For my life!
For that which I do in my love,
I do not give thanks;
I do not take advantage;
Even as you have shown me a

======== CHECKPOINT 015 OUTPUT # 004 ========

kernel to run for each session. This feature is disabled, though not disabled at all by default.

Note: When you run the shell to run the user session, the user session won’t start if the user is not running.

Make the user session wait for a user-specific session.

Make it work on a user-specific session that you’ll need to run the shell to start a new session.

If you do not like this, and you are just not comfortable with the change, please remove the change.

You can also set a single session’s time to another user or session’s time from the same session’s own time stamp.

Save the user’s session’s session time with the following commands:

cd /var/log/sh

You can use this to pause the user’s session, and then start the session in another session.

To stop the user’s session, you can add a time stamp to the user session:

cd /var/log

This will keep the user’s session session current while it starts the session in another session.

To stop the user’s session, add a time stamp to the user session:

cd /var/log/sh

You can add another time stamp to the user session by adding it to an existing time stamp:

cd /var/log/sh

To stop the user’s session, add another time stamp to the user session:

cd /var/log/sh

This will stop the user’s session when it starts:

cd /var/log/sh/

If you want the user’s session saved for posterity (you can do this with the following commands:


To save the user’s session for posterity, you must add the time stamp of the current session to the session’s time stamp:


To see the date of your current session’s date with one of your new sessions’ current time stamps, you can use the date command.

To stop the user’s session for posterity (you can do this with the following commands:


To show the date of your current session’s date with one of your new sessions’ current time stamps, you must add the time stamp of the current session’s current time stamp to the session’s time stamp:


To show the date of the current session’s date with one of your new sessions’ current time stamps, you must add the time stamp of the current session’s current time stamp to the session’s time stamp:


To show the date of the current session’s date with one of your new sessions’ current time stamps, you must add the time stamp of the current session’s current time stamp to the session’s time stamp:


To change the current session’s current session to a different time stamp, you must use the same command and pass the user the time stamp for the change:


For a particular session, you’ll use the user’s time stamp to display the current session in the current session’s current time stamp.

To show the current session in the current session’s current time stamp, you must use the same command and pass the user the time stamp for the change:


To show the current session in the current session’s current time stamp, you must use the same command and pass the user the time stamp for the change:


For a particular session, you’ll use the user’s time stamp to display the current session in the current session’s current time stamp.

To show the current session in the current session’s current time stamp, you must use the same command and pass the user the time stamp for the change:


To change the current session’s current time stamp, you must use the same command and pass the user the time stamp for the change:


To stop the current session.

(Or more easily to stop it.)

The first line in this command is a newline.

To change the current session.

To quit the current session.

For some reason, if you use the date and date time lines from your shell, you’ll never see the change at all.

This is a great example of why a new shell must work on all of your shell’s contents, so that it can read up on your current session in a different way.

Here are some of the other times and special characters you can use to add a new line to your shell, depending on the way you want it to work.

The first character of the command, “noreply”, will add another line to the current session’s date, newline, or newline.

This shows up the date of your current

======== CHECKPOINT 015 OUTPUT # 005 ========

agne of a woman; and then to thy dame, and unto me, and to your poor poor mother.”

And there she stood, but his eyes did not seem to behold her face, and she still held them in his chest, like a shield against the wind;

And she doth say to him,
‘Let that mother that thou hast slain,
That, to thee, is thy self proud,
That all thy faults and faults and errors should dwell.’

“Now then,” said the maid-maid, “if thou wilt be thyself as the thief,
Then wherefore have I no use, no use;
‘My lips shalt not kiss thee in the same way,
My lips shall not say with words,
‘O my dear child, thou shalt have my back!’

‘If any evil be my true love,
I am yours, my heart is my conscience,
Which shall be mine in time to destroy thee,
And will not bear me to death by any mortal’s hand;
The earth shall tremble at thy name;
And a plague shall wash away the rest;
And then shall thou art my self again.’

“A boy!” said she, “a maiden, and a son,
And thy mind shall do no harm in thee;
That with thee there shall be no sin,
And love shall be free of such a slander.

For then do I fear, and fear neither thy fear nor thy hate;
For love is love but a false thing,
Even a false fear, and a false love,
And thou shalt not hate thy friend.

If love were true, it would seem so,
For thou hast sworn to love me, and thou hast sworn to hate me;
that thou hast sworn to love thy friend in my eyes,
And thou shalt lie with him, and he with thee.

Yet for love’s sake let it appear not,
If thy heart can bear to behold thee not;
Let it behold thee not as I am;
Nor if thou shouldst love me, then, but as if it were thy self,
I’d be thy slave, and not thee,
As thy self as thy self as mine.

“Now thus is thy name, and now thou art mine,” quoth she.

“Thou art my friend,” quoth she. “My self, my own self,
My own self, my own self, mine own self;
I am my self and thee is mine.”

She now did add two lines of verse to this sad story,
which were not at all sad in themselves:

“But for love’s sake let it be so,” quoth he,
So shall you weep when she is gone,
so shall she weep when she is gone;
Then shalt thou wail that I have been lost,
If ever thou hast forgotten, and yet I am alive,
For the sweet flower I do not remember,
For beauty’s worth thy beauty’s worth’s worth’s worth;
Whose worth thy beauty is and thy worth’s worth’s worth’s worth,
That when my love died, I may live again,
and when thy love died I may die again.

But let my love still hold a grudge,
Nor do I wish to have her, nor to have my love:
Whose honour should I have him for,
But not his honour for his honour’s honour;
And therefore are you to hate me, and I to hate you.

So I hate your love and I hate you,
Who bear no name but the name of my love;
As if it were your name, if it were your name,
As if it were mine, if you were mine, if you were mine,
To what you might be your neighbour’s, then your neighbour’s neighbours are
Of your own nature, and what your neighbour’s nature is
A neighbour’s neighbour, and nothing else.

-This last verse, or at least his last sentence,
The following lines were his last as a man
With such gentle love as hath no self,
As to beg, for love’s sake, and for love’s sake not,
Thy true self hath not been left in me,
No self hath been left in thee.
‘My love, my love, my love,’ quoth she, ‘will not excuse me;
If thou dost cause to my love any one that doth love,
My dear friend shall say, ‘Tis so, O dear friend!
When, at my request, thou hast made me my love’s friend
And that in my love, thou dost make me my friend’s enemy.’

-Her words were so clear and sharp as her lips,
That with each blow she gave her breath,

======== CHECKPOINT 016 OUTPUT # 001 ========

professional, and by the use of him be praised:
But when the poor servant hath his own, and is not himself blessed with them,
Or the rich with his own?
(The same verse is from a more famous person,
As if he was a priest, and had no such skill,
As to give you a better copy.
I have taught thee the best of all the faults I have to give you,
And you are not to blame for your faults;
Then I will forgive my faults and will bring them to rest,
To repair my poor time, and to keep my oath;
To prevent my deceiv’d state from ever again,
And to keep my oath to thee, and me to thee;
What better use is it then to tell me,
When you know it is your duty? why do you not see?
What better reason to love than to love thy neighbour?
Then do I not make you the best lover
Of your body, and then, when you are well fitted,
Love will give you my love: it will not give you mine:
But with every defect, when you are well fitted
Your own beauty must be esteemed,
And I no longer take mine, nor you my own,
But all your beauty I possess,
So that you should not see my love,
And me not be deceived: you will see mine by all eyes,
For you have seen my face, and now behold
The beautiful image of my heart!
‘How I look to you,’ quoth she, ‘is the sweetest beauty
To me. ‘O love, that which you give me,
Love doth I make you my queen.’
‘I love thee that thou dost love me,
For I myself love thee so much that I cannot be
Cursed with my self-love: but do not be angry,
To my self, who dost make thee to my self,
For if thou dost love me, and I to thee,
I will not be a stranger to you; but if thou shouldst kill me,
I will not know you when I can not know you,
If thou livest so long to my death,
And yet never stay at mine age;
Though your love to me should have died,
If the one whom I should hate,
Would still live, and the other died;
And with you, even so much may you die,
Which would be the most dreadful, if thy love were not to live,
And the one whom thou hast love in thy heart,
to die so dear is not for my sake,
Nor thy true affection to thy own body,
Which is mine, to thee for ever my life:
And if I had the world to prove thee true,
For not my part would I tell,
Or my part in my will, to die for my love.
‘My love and mine shall never be made more true,’ quoth she, ‘
Even to the end of thy love’s power:
Nor to my love shall my love, but by the love of my life,
And from my love’s power of all my will.
‘But all the love of my will is that of my love,
Which, in spite of all thy love’s power,
All thy love’s will be undone;
And then, having the world’s will,
And to thy will, all things be undone,
And thou, my friend, to thy friend,
Thy sweet, self-same love that is best thy self.
O then what a world, where the most beautiful love,
My self, and all that I have done to thee,
Thou art my best, thy self, the self thou hast done to me:
The self that did thy self to me,
My self is my self, thou art mine,
And if thou dost love me as my self,
I will not love thee so much, myself.
And if thou art me,
I will not love thee so much, thyself, as thou art mine.
For love is love’s love, not self-love’s love.
But if thou art me,
I will not love thee so much as thy self.
But if thou wilt love me, and I wilt wilt love thee,
I will not love thee, for love is mine:
And thy true love is my true self,
That I am one, and not yours,
My self is mine; thy true self is mine,
And that is me: for thou wilt have me,
To have me that thou wilt have is mine.
So may I, my love, if thou wilt hate me,
And I, my self, if thou wilt hate me,
And I, my self, if thou w

======== CHECKPOINT 016 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Fixed that for now, it is a bit more hard to tell the difference, so I will take the time to do the better part of the story.
It is true, that I was much tempted to write it, but in vain, for so long I thought, I should say so more; and now I will write, that is, to you it will prove.
It is said that I am going to publish my novel in some time to come.
This is true; that if a time is to come, I must tell it for your benefit.
If thou dost make me happy, then so be it, and if I live it will live to thee, and every man is his own.
And as thou dost love thy love so do I love my husband too.
“What will I make thee of? I will make thee of your love:
And as thou wilt find this, it is not mine own, it is thy will that this love should be born in thee.
Therefore if thou dost not find what thou desireest, thou hast not found my love.
‘O, therefore didst thou beget what thou wilt desire;
What wilt I make thee of?
So am I beguiled; for my will is the true form of thy self,
And all that thou wilt possess is the truth,
And therefore I have not the will to make my will,
That my will may be my own, but I may not be my true self,
The true self is all that I will know,
When all that I will possess am my will.
When all that I possess is my will,
When all that I will possess am my will,
I will never have the will I will not have,
Which was before all my will was mine.
Then wherefore would I make thee believe that which thou didst promise?
That thy love is not thy own,
And the greater thy love is, the greater thy worth lies.
But thou wilt know me more than I ever know thee,
Since my love is greater than all my self,
And my will is greater than all that which my self can make,
So what will I make thee of me, but a fool,
With false thoughts and false desires?
Or what will my love do to thee, but the more,
The more to thee is my love?
For mine love is my love; for mine will is mine.
Yet, although you have wronged me, yet I am your friend,
As much so was I his slave.
Therefore he did not make the case, nor did he have it his own way.
And now, therefore, this is true:
I am not a slave, for I am thy slave,
But the thing which I do with thee,
Is my love and thy love, and my love.
My love is the love of love, and thy love is the love of love.
For I desire thee, my love, your love, and mine will,
If you do wrong, my love will suffer me;
If thou shalt make the things which I love,
If thou shalt make them worse than the things which thou wouldst make,
Since thou wilt wrong me, I will not be harmed.
“My love, my love, my love, is more than your love,
Though all these things belong to me,
Since thy love is as much as thy will as thy will,
For that my love may be your will, as all thy will be yours,
Which I will do, as thou shalt do,
With thy will as thy will as thou shalt do,
That I may have all the will of thy will,
Even to have the will of my will be in thy will.
Now is this love that thou dost beguile,
For I beguile thee, and the more I pray of thee,
The greater my love is, and the greater my desire is,
Since all my will is mine.
Thus love is my own love, and my love is mine.
And if thou wilt love me, but it are the will of my will,
Then I desire your will, but it is the will of mine,
For so you are my self, and mine will;
So shall your self have it.
Love, my love, my love,
Is my own love, and mine will,
But thou shalt have mine, and then the will is mine;
To me will be thy will, and thy will to mine;
Since thou wilt be my self, and thy self to me;
Thou willst not be mine, and my will not be mine,
For thou shalt not live in love, nor am I my self;
I have no desire, my self is my self,

======== CHECKPOINT 016 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Insp and Adept: the Art of self-deceit.
From these, as they were gone,
Thy hand was made upon mine breast,
And I, as I sit in thy bosom,
Are bound, by thy oaths of love,
To honour thee as best thou dost have my love,
If thou wilt not do thy part, my will must,
And be more than your self.
I have had so many, and so many will be with me.
In thee thou art my slave.
“Now it is my fault, so dear to me,
To put forth my self in her self’s image,
That her self shall appear to thee as a child.
The sweet, but her-painful day
She may not be blamed,
If she have her faults in the midst of her.
‘And as for thy good qualities,
I have never forgotten thee, and I have never forgotten thee,
And I shall live to see the sun rise;
When the sun shall be gone,
So I will have this self of mine,
The best in all that hath been,
And I to love it in all that should not be.
I love you, your heart shall love me,
My love, your heart shall love me,
For the sake of my dear friend,
I shall love thee so fondly,
The most sweet, the most love, and the most loving.
‘O, and what beauty do thou behold?
What is this beauty! what art thou doting,
With all thy lips a kind of tongue,
And that it may teach others to say,
Love is my way, not thy way,
Or thy place, not thy self,
Or thy self, not my self,
Nor ever my self, not mine alone;
nor, like thy self, do I hold this in
Thy own self.
‘What is this? what is this; what is this,
When thou art, where shall I put it?
I cannot stop, nor stop, nor stop,
When I am gone, and yet thou art not,
And yet thou are not,
Who am I to judge thee or my self?
Thou art my self, and not the other.
‘”I would not die if it would kill me.
Love is dead, my love is dead;
I am not dead, nor in life will I die
No more my own fear shall be,
My fear shall be the greater fear,
Thy desire shall bear, and my fear shall live.
That fear and thy love were the same,
That fear and thy love both of us is,
To me the same, and the other to thee is.
My love and thy love shall be,
For this I love thee, and I love thee not,
Nor to thee is mine due.
So I love you, but my love never makes me feel,
nor love nor my love shall make me think,
Or in the least shall I live to see your happy deed.
For thou art my love, and, though all my love is mine,
Thy love hath yet, to all this, gone;
Now it is my fault, that thou art mine;
When you are gone, and yet thou art not,
And yet thou are not, wherefore I love you?
When thou art gone, and yet thou art not,
And yet thou art not, wherefore I love you?
O, why art thou my friend, I love you but not my friend?
Or why shall I be such as thou art,
If I be thy lover in your death,
I will not tell you how this, and that,
As I have all my life kept your eye,
And you may say, that you are no more,
Nor the same as I am,
Even as I am, and as thou art,
Will be no more than thou art, and I will never be,
Wherefore I will not tell thee how this is,
Or how this is thy truth,
Who deceives me that I cannot tell thee,
And what a fool I am,
To tell that I cannot tell that thou art not.
“That was a great, great and strong,
With a long golden tail, a wide white hand,
And with a golden-handled spear;
Her face so bright and cold that you might not see;
Which she gave to him on the ground,
And then to him on the ground gave an air of tenderness,
As though she had not seen your breath.
Her eyes were pale, and pale they were black:
Her cheeks, she had some small, white lines.
In some she had painted black, or white or red,
And these she painted her

======== CHECKPOINT 016 OUTPUT # 004 ========

herence with her lips, as though they might,
‘Give my heart of him, and his own, with him be reconcil’d
To his sake and to the love of his soul;
And thou wilt by this make me thy son,
And by my life and to thee the glory
O my dear husband.
-‘What can it be to me then when I am my husband’s slave?
For in the state of my being so full
That the soul’s part should be divided,
For my true worth not yet to be determined,
Then would it not seem to me, to give me some right,
To do with others as I love, to let my fair love make,
Love, for my sake, is my wife’s slave,
She, in her desire to make thee my slave,
will by thy consent, in your good will do.
‘O, I would do that which thou art not the master of,
Of me, if thou didst do wrong;
That thou wilt be of mine that dost wrong;
That thou wilt betray me, unless I bring you,
And when my eyes behold thee, thou canst not kill
The last shadow that falls upon my heart.
“What canst thou know, that is to be told,
that thou dost give up, when your heart is full and weak?
That my love hath given you power,
To love it with force, or woe with grace:
What canst thou tell that my love bears,
If that that love bearst it from all eternity?
My heart would be with me in her love,
But my tears would not bear it from every moment.
She looks upon me as her lover;
She sees in me a kind of heart-tied child,
She looks upon my face as her husband’s love;
She looks on mine eye as her husband’s eye;
She sees that I am my husband’s mistress,
And her pride in my love is greater than mine,
Thy true self is the first sight of me,
Which, when I beheld her, did take up thy place;
To my self was her beauty, and my self as sweet.
This was the time when thou wilt see my love,
When thy beauty is the first sight of me,
What beauty in thy body I have but my love,
What thy self I have but thee,
What thy self I have but thee,
And in thy self be the end of me,
So that you cannot say in mine,
How I am, thou art, and I am:
Love is love’s sweet-sweet bond.
If thou hast yet made the love of my heart,
For some greater perfection in thee,
What it seems is mine worth,
My worth must I be,
My worth I will not possess;
To me your fair love is mine in my heart;
O then what a difference that will there make?
The fair fairest maid is mine in mine own.
Her beauty was greater than mine own,
As the rich-chewing beggar that I have fed,
The greedy beggar that I have fed in my heart.
The rich beggar that I have fed in my heart,
This I would make myself, but I have not;
But thou, this beauty, would make a thing,
That every self can imitate, that every self hath.
“Why, my friend, what is thy fear,
What is thy love, what thou art my love,
Whose love is my love?”
This she had not heard from her husband,
Which she had not yet heard when she sat by him.
For there was no love to be had,
And yet it was there that was true to her heart.
“My grief beheld thy grief, and I woe,
Thou wilt all that I might do to you,
And if my grief shall be my guilt,
Or if thy grief be my fault, my guilt shall be,
Mine guilt, my guilt, mine fault, my guilt, my fault,
My guilt, mine guilt, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault, mine fault,

======== CHECKPOINT 016 OUTPUT # 005 ========

UG was sent down from this place to preach unto them, and then, when the time was done, he took the cross from his lips and took his hand, and drew his hand back and drew his chin back, and he told them he did not know of his purpose, but to bear the sword.

“But,” quoth she, “you are now a thief.”

“I will not,” quoth she, “I am thy brother.”

And they left, having not seen her in tears, so they came to the door of his cabin, where she had been drenched in cold sweat, but they never saw her face, but she seemed as if she had been sleeping.

Then, as if some strange accident had taken place, she seemed to be asleep, but as she seemed to be in a state of state of drowsiness, so the other women drowsy with a little sweat, so they did her drowsy drowsiness, and drowsiness with drowsiness.

The day was cold, and the day was hot, and the day was dark; and therefore she was weary of this strange world and the night, but in the dark, and all the night still was full of sorrow and grief.

Then, when she had heard the cry that said, “O love, the world is full of hate, and the earth full of grief, I have done my duty to you by means of the love of your love, to see and to bear it, and by means of love to love, to see and bear it, and to bear it; and what is this that I have done unto you in your honour?

O what love! how often it cries,

‘O where thou loveest but to make it,

Thou love that lovest no end,
O why so often can thy loving lovest be wrong?

Or what love is the self,

How much worse than the self to that end

Is it what love bestows?

For I that art thy love,

It doth my love in thee be;

To my love do I have doth spend!

I love love, not only but for my sake and for your sake,
And if a fool should kill my love,
But I will love you with thy face,
And the other by my love will see you die,
When you had lived, thou wast born to live,
And I am no one that did but live and die,
and this is why I love thee with all my heart.

But then, from the time when I began to believe,
That the world is the one which hath the life-giving power
And from the time that it was created,
The world I see was created to give to others the light.

I shall not say that I did die, but that I did,
But I have been my death, to make a new life that will be
With all those that now live, and that that which now die,
As the sun that shines by night and morning will give light to the world:
For this reason will the sun, being bright, give light to the world.

Nor shall he that hath seen beheld the sun be with him,
When he hath seen a star in the heavens,
And he hath seen a star in the earth,
And yet did he not see it with eyes like those,
Who do not believe in such things;
He therefore shall not have this night’s eclipse;
So do thou behold the star from his own eyes,
Nor will it see thee with thy senses,
That he hath such shame to lose?
Then the night shall seem as the morning is cold and sad,
So is this night to lose a day’s joy.

And in this night, as in every one else’s youth,
O, do not you not hear how the days and hours wear out?
Then for many years, they have stood on their own,
For a long time they have stood to stand by
For another.

This time, all the days will be of greater importance than they should be,
Now that the whole world of my soul hath seen it,
And since the time hath come, I have sought in thee to find,
A way that thou mayst not die,
To be more virtuous in thy life than I did before,
For, as thou shalt have me, yet thou wast not my,
For thou shalt not die,
My virtue shall not be mine, my goodness not thy.

O, now if thou dost not love, then thou art my enemy,
And my sin shall be mine to redeem:
When thou art my debtor, then will it be mine,
My guilt and thy guilt in all thy parts,

======== CHECKPOINT 017 OUTPUT # 001 ========

Salon on their right to complain of their poverty.

If your heart’s eye doth be deceived into a more perfect image, let not my love make thee see
That I am with you, that I love you in your tears,
But from the same place where your tears do pour,
As you are still more dear to your eyes.

I love you, and I know you not,
but not with you, for that, that is my love.

But now, for his sake, when this love hath ended,
Be careful, lest in thee I die.

So tell us a little;
“That when my life comes to you again,
I’ll teach you how to kiss,
And now you do mine; and now you do mine.

And where, in thy bosom
All the rest of the world loves thee,
And all the world’s love is you,
And all the world’s love is you.”

For thou hast forsaken the way of truth
And hast fled from his sight,
To his eye thou lov’st me, thou lov’st me,
And for thy love, that thou lovst me should live.

“This time thy husband died,
His life’s work was undone;
his death was a crime to him,
And his death to you must be undone.

If thou dost bear the pain of my death,
Then by death shall I not bear your death.

But if thou lov’st the way of thy death,
And wilt abide in this death,
Then be by my side, and stand before thee
Thine eyes are all wrenched out,
And you have the rest of them that will bear thee.

‘O fair goddess, whose image lives with thee,
And whose name is my name,
Who from her beauty did I come?
‘No, I have no such name as that
To my eyes this is my life,
And this my life, not my death;
For my life’s work, and life’s work’s work’s work’s work,
This life is my will, and my will’s will’s will’s will,
And yet still this life still, which is no more
To him, yet he still is, he still is:
for now all will be done with him,
And for now all will be gone with him;
Then why did I stay
For a long time in my beauty?
What for him did I stay for?
For him it was mine, not theirs:
And when we went to each other’s house,
And she doth look upon him, she says
The sight of his beauty was gone,
And that beauty, the thing that so lov’d
As thy breath, and your breath’s breath’s breath’s breath’s breath’s breath’s breath:
The heart of thy love shall hear, and thou shalt find.
What did I in thee make of thee,
Who was my instrument,
And made the living being so dear?
And for you, whose true nature thou art,
Were I to take thy life,
If I had the means for it,
Even a thousand times I should destroy it.
‘But if thou art true, thou art the true thing:
And yet thou art false, thou art my own false,
And false a slave of my truth.

“Thy tongue is crooked, my hand is blunt;
My right hand is sharp, and my left hand is mute;
My tongue was mine self, but thy tongue was mine.
“Thy right hand that thou shalt bear me,
Thy tongue that thou shalt bear me,
Thy tongue that thou shalt bear me,
Thy tongue that thou shalt bear me,
Thy tongue that thou shalt bear me,
Thy tongue that thou shalt bear me,
Thy tongue that thou shalt bear me,
Thy tongue that thou shalt bear me,
Thy tongue that thou shalt bear me,
Thy tongue that thou shalt bear me,
Thy tongue that thou shalt bear me,
Thy tongue that thou shalt bear me,
Thy tongue that thou shalt bear me,
Thy tongue that thou shalt bear me,
Thy tongue that thou shalt bear me,
Thy tongue that thou shalt bear me,
Thy tongue that thou shalt bear me,
Thy tongue that thou shalt bear me,
Thy tongue that thou shalt bear me,
Thy tongue that thou shalt bear me,
Thy tongue that thou shalt bear me,
Thy tongue that thou shalt bear me,
Thy tongue that thou shalt bear me,
Thy tongue that thou shalt bear me,
Thy tongue that thou shalt bear me,
Thy tongue that thou shalt bear

======== CHECKPOINT 017 OUTPUT # 002 ========

transmitting the divine fire of your thoughts; for which I have made thee a kind of the most holy and most acceptable man; my love for you is a kind of praise; and so do I love you all by thy love.

“Look, what canst thou desire but that my love is not as lovely as yours?

How couldst thou so unjustly have mine dear son, as thou hast my dear brother?

Even so, what shame couldst thou say in that I am mine own slave,
As a slave to one another’s desires?

For the better that I am, the better I am,
Nor is it that I cannot do anything but love;
Therefore thou art mine own slave to me.

And as soon as my mind takes possession of thee,
Then canst thou not hold this possession,
And make this desire of mine,
That the things that I want in thee may be mine own:
Thy loving-kind-awake mind may have my will,
And let this desire have mine will,
Then let this love do not give it to my lust:
That the will I have shall be mine own,
With thee, that I may have thy will.

“Since I have said all this,
How canst thou be so conceited,
If I am such a silly heart,
As thy self, that thou art so fond of me,
In spite of so much, in spite of me?

But why shouldst thou not desire what mine self amends?
And why shouldst thou not cherish what mine own self is?
Therefore dost thou give me my self, and my self’s self doth owe
And all thy self’s self’s self’s self’s self’s self.

“For my parts, which are so much like each other’s,
I have never as much as you with me;
What’s more pleasing than this simple pleasure?
This simple pleasure that thou art mine,
So dost my parts desire me for that which they have,
And have done me the gift, for that which they own.

As soon as I am alive, I know this,
And know not all what I cannot know.

“For I myself know all this,
What no one knows how I am,
But that I know to this great question
What all those that know not seem,
Are you, then, to whom I tell your story?

If I were the child of this world, and of all this,
I would not be able to give you this gift;
If I were a grown-up girl, my husband would not say:
My dear friends, if thou make me a living,
My life would be worth ten times as much as mine.

“Since you can see me alive, yet no one doth know;
What will your heart, your beauty, thy love,
O will thy heart do to me the most?
When will I show my love in your love?
But when will I show it on your self,
If it do not belong to thee?
When will it not belong to me?
Or will it not belong only to me?
Or will it not belong to me?
or to me, not to thee,
That is your love to me?
“For your life is the only gift of love
To me you have made,
And this, if thou dost desire me,
It doth not need no more.”

“Hands are strong, and ears strong,
And ears strong, and ears weak,
Hands, ears, and ears, and ears, and ears,
Hands, ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears,
Hands, ears, ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears, and ears

======== CHECKPOINT 017 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Know of that which thou art, and the truth which thou art,
The light of that which thou hast, and the darkness which thou have
And this, the truth of which thou art;
The light, and the darkness,
The truth, and the light,
The truth, and the darkness,
The truth, and the light,
Then all shall vanish.
Thy eyes must be kept on a stone.
The heart of the soul is a stone and not a dove.
When thou wilt see the stars, and see the clouds,
I will tell you that all the heavenly heaven is a false heaven,
And all the earth a false heaven,
For there lies none, nor any part of the sun,
Which alone is pure, but one, a part,
One, another, and all together like one in the whole.
‘”How many false gods have my eye seen?
How many false gods that live in the world?
When is the best time to be found
When there is no day of rest?
When we have our days but two,
When we love each other more than love,
We will do our best when all these parts do rest.
‘Let my love guide me; I know thee with my heart;
Who will help thee when thou hast slain?
Who will aid thee when thou hast slain?
And when all thy parts be gone?
When all my parts have gone,
And no part hath a new beginning,
That I cannot love or to bear any?
‘This, my love, is the reason of that,
And, as if on my part, every part of thee was
A little part, and every part of thee
A little part of thy self: that which thou in thyself may bear,
For that part alone is true, and to do
The same thing every single thing in thee can do;
And, since thy self hath so great a love,
To give me such a false self to love,
That I can love not with thee but with thee alone,
The love in thyself, as thou art, is my love,
For mine self is my love, the love of that in whom I be;
But the love in myself is mine own, and to do
So shall all my parts be, so shall mine be:
O, where my self lives my heart shall rest,
And all my parts which are in me die,
that I may, when my parts shall be, be again a full heart,
The whole of whom thou art: all my parts be again my heart,
And in this body my heart may be still again full,
I may live in the purest sense, and in the purest sense
Like a little child on a high horse.
But now I can say, ‘My sweet self,’ and now I can say, ‘My soul,’
The rest, and all the parts, of the world
Of every kind are given unto me, as much is mine,
This is for me my love, and not mine.
‘Therefore I have said it, as it is plain:
In this life I had thought to be dead,
But to come to life in a state of death,
I have made my vow, and in it I have sworn.
I know that it is no wrong to tell that I love you;
When you have gone to Rome, it is not my fault,
When you have gone to Tarquin, it is not your fault,
O, why, if I can kill thee, thou must know it.
Who in the world can slay me,
Who in this world cannot take pity on thee?
Who in this world can give me birth?
Who in this world, when I give thee birth,
My loving and mine loving-kindling womb,
Will, as I gave you up, will not do me what thou ask
As I myself have told thee.
O, my love, thou art a thief,
And yet you are more than thieves, a thief of thy self.
O, mine, I do not have, but thou wast once a thief of thy self:
If thou shalt not steal from my love,
Thou art my lover, my friend, and my slave,
What I have stolen from my love’s love, is not of mine.
-Thou art not my love’s slave, but my slave’s lover.
No slave, no lord, no king, no slave of mine,
My love and thy love’s love,
O, thou hast slain my sweet heart, that is the reason why I
Grieve on my sweet face, and did kill thy love.
‘Let this be my plea, my plea, my plea,
For thou art mine: then I am my love.’
My love,

======== CHECKPOINT 017 OUTPUT # 004 ========

crabs, and then in the water of the ocean, that the fishes should be removed from his sight,
Thus began the work: where he was, still he did nothing,
Which would make the best of him.
But by the hour of the sun he did stop;
And his eyelids, with tears which flowed down from their sockets,
Than a veil, like the curtain that the veil had hid,
And like the curtain that she had laid,
That made their eyes and their mouths seem to kiss,
To the invisible eye, and to the unseen eye,
She drew their tears from their cheeks, and they began to kiss:
And he thus began to do her an evil,
To be revenged upon them, to kill them with her lips:
But they did not feel it,
That they must give their lives for their sake,
And they should not kill them with my hands,
That is, to save their lives,
But I should not do so with their lives,
That, having seen how they are not to be,
To kill them all, they might at least give their lives,
And so we shall live to our old age,
And we must live to our death,
When all these things may be so,
That I shall show you how my hand, that my will,
That shall govern, and make your thoughts true,
To control them all by their will,
And by your will your will control mine.
She looked, and he perceived she was in his arms,
His hands were shaking the ground, and he rose again.
But he said, “I have seen a man so ugly,
He makes me laugh; the worst thing he did was tear
my hair with his nails; it was never to my eyes,
And to this my cheeks, my heart’s lust
To stain my brow with blood.”
“Thou art a coward, thou art in all that makes this world so.”
“Why, so that I may make thy head shine,
Thou art so sweet, thou so kind,” answered he.
“Love, love, love! but, now,” quoth she,
The man’s lips were still wet; and they began
To kiss the lips of those, for the lips of thee,
Are dear enough to make love more pleasing,
Than all their soft kisses to make thee kiss them all.
And yet it is my duty, not mine,
To kiss, for my own pleasure,
In my desire to make thee my tongue.
This, if thou canst still tell my truth,
Whose hand shall it take to slay thee?
As one whose hand shall I slay thee;
Whose hand shall it take to drown thee,
Wherein to drown thee a man is a husband,
And wherein a husband is a slave;
Which is what it is to be dead,
And to have been dead I have been dead;
Thou art dead! and as the night’s night dies,
The sound of the breath which thou makeest,
And the sound of thine heart shall revive me,
Like water in that I die;
But in this my breath shall be breath of life,
When the blood of life which thou makeest,
Is life with me and not with thee,
Though thou shalt die, but never shall be.
O my dear self! thou art dead,
O my dear self! that I am dead,
This thou art not dead in me,
And thou hast not told me the thing which thou dost hear.
Thy will be the law, that thou wilt not kill,
For I know thee well.
And I think not of thee, nor did I make thee so,
I did, and never will be.
For there is no other self I know.
For the self is selfless, but the self is selfless.
To him, it is good to sing,
He is the music of his voice,
And I am the song of his heart,
And I am the song of his soul.
To him the words of my heart are his;
For he will not make a single thing of thee;
And the words of his heart are his;
For he will not make the breath of his heart
The breath of his breath, and the breath of his soul,
The breath of his soul, and the breath of his mind.
But I will not entertain a new invention
This, the art of the painter,
Which he will make the world of my mind,
And his art will be my self;
For his art, which shall be my self,
Who shall be his self in the world?
Nor his self, nor his self, nor his self’s art,
The other things, and what is not

======== CHECKPOINT 017 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Dog, he was a beggar, and he was a duchess, the two most dear, to be married. ‘Th’unce,’ quoth she, ‘this doting heart, she must tell me why the hell this wretched child hath so poor a mother; ‘If she hath told, then the doting man must take a vow; and if she did tell, then they should be happy.’

‘What vows do thou think that my poor friend’s soul hath made my wife, and my self, and thy self thyself,’ quoth she, ‘if she was with me, I should make you my husband.

‘For, if thou do believe me, and will do all to make me yours, I will take the law with you.’

‘And then thou shalt not break, my dear child, for it is my command,’ quoth she; ‘but if thou dost break with me, my vows of love shall be broken with thee.

‘But it is not in this which thou canst prove a falsehood; but in thy deed thou prove my love, my beloved daughter; and if thou make me my love, then thou art my husband, and my doting son.

‘You know not what I mean, my poor girl; for I know not what you mean, my poor girl.

‘And yet this is my fault; it is not my fault, and not my fault in this.’

She went back on his knee with a sigh, till she had given up and stood by him.

‘Good day, my poor child,’ quoth she, ‘good day.’

But she did not say much, and his mind was not troubled.

‘Come,’ quoth he, ‘I’ll see how my self hath been made, and I’ll see how my self hath been made my husband, and my doting child, and their child’s friend.

‘That which thou dost say is false, it is false, but it is true;

For mine self, and mine doting self, thou shalt say the true,

The self which thyself hath made, and mine self, thou shalt say the false,

The self which thyself hath made, and mine self, thou shalt say the false,

The self which thyself hath made, and mine self, thou shalt say the true,

the self which thyself hath made, and mine self, thou shalt say the true,

Then for all thy self thou shalt say my self, and thy self, thou shalt say my self.

‘Why then are you so quick to give such false excuses?’

‘But I will not be seen by your beauty; I will not be seen by your fair eyes.’

‘Then why then should you excuse me from this fault,
To live in the shame of an adulterate wife?’

‘No,’ quoth he, ‘it is but love, not that of me.’

‘If thou wilt not live, if thou wilt not love,
And live and die with me, then I am with thee, and your poor husband.

‘The truth is that thou art mine self,’ quoth she, ‘and for that I am thy self,
But for my self’s sake I am thy self.’

‘Ah! and I am no more mine self, but that which is mine,
And I am thy self; I am not mine but that which is mine.’

‘O, dear child, if you could write down the lines
Of my verse, how sad is this verse!
When thy heart was warmed by the heat of thy fire,
And when thou sought her love,
Thy loving heart seemed to melt thee like a wailing dove;
And when thee sought her love, thou dost not weep;
She looks up and frowns on thee, and cries;
But then her eyes seem unto him dumb;
Her chin quivers at thee like a broken spear,
She looks at him dumb, and his eyes frowns on him;
Yet again her eyes turn to her beauty;
And he begins to weep, and sighs, and sighs, and sighs again;
And then she takes her eye away, and she looks again;
And now her face is pale, and her eyes are pale,
And then her heart is cold; and then her mouth is cold;
Her cheek is full of tears, and her lips are full of tears,
And her heart is full of all these,
And yet she sighs still, and cries, and sighs,
And yet she touches his heart, and he touches hers;
But her eye is still pure, and her face still pure;
And now her eyes are pure, and her face still pure;
But this

======== CHECKPOINT 018 OUTPUT # 001 ========

hours in her lap. “If you cannot make the night’s march, then why do not I take my leave of you?”
“A maiden shall be king,” quoth he; “but a maiden of a thousand doting minds shall die.”
“And the maid of thy will,” quoth she, “shall not live.”
‘She is the same; she is not, and her name is never the same. ‘But I love thee,’ quoth she, ‘I love thee more than thou; thou art my servant, for thou wast the servant of every slave. ‘What are thy rights, my dear friend? ‘My duty is so, that thou shouldst love me, and to thy true self be so thy friend, and to thy true self so thy self.’
‘You didst write me that,’ quoth she, ‘I owe you a part, I owe you an interest, and my interest will make you mine; if I had not written you I should never have done it. ‘But now, now,’ quoth he, ‘this is wrong, you’ll see your wrong with me. ‘But look on me, my child, now you make this wrong your true self. ‘This,’ quoth he, ‘you’ll see what makes my true self so great. ‘But now, now, and this, how long will it take before I’ll get my revenge? ‘
“‘This is an offence, my daughter,’ quoth he, ‘it is the crime to thee that was done. ‘That thou shalt die in love is the sin of the world. I didst not make thee, nor did I intend thy life to be ended. ‘When you will see it, thou art mine. ‘So will my love; ‘all the world’s love shall be mine;
When you will see it, my love will be thy excuse.
The sun that doth shine, doth wink, doth make a quiver,
And every feather in every tree doth be red, red doth stain the earth,
And the deep blue in every sky doth blunting,
And the earth’s stars doth break and shriek;
All eyes will see his face and beheld the sight
And in every sight, the world’s light doth burn:
To this day, and for ever, till thy death, my heart
Will be crushed; and all the world’s light will be burnt;
And all the world’s world’s light will melt;
And all the earth’s light will burn.’
“Thou art the fairest of all the fair maidens,
But I shall see thou again; thy eye, thy eye’s eye, thy eye’s eye,
And thy eye, thy eye’s eye’s eye, thy eye’s eye, thy eye’s eye;
That I should live, and thou tost live,
To live in thee for ever. ‘O, thou art my mother,’ quoth she, ‘not that thou must live with me;
And the day when I must make thee to die,
Thou art my child, and thou shalt be my child: thou art the heir of thy life,
And I am mine, thou my love; thou art my dear heart, thou my heart’s heart,
Whose true eye shall be my eye, and my true eye’s eye
Thy love, and thy eye’s eye’s eye’s eye’s eye,
Whose true eye thy love’s love’s love’s true eye hath,
Which shall seem to me as the hour of thy time
And thou shalt come to see it in this moment.’
‘And he speaks in a voice like this: ‘My love, thou art my dear heart,
And this love, thou art my dear heart, thy love’s love,
This is my true love, thy true love’s true heart.
The true love that lies concealed in thy heart,
What thou dost say of that, is true, but the one is false.
To the truth, then, lies this truth, thy true love’s true heart;
And the false truth of this truth lies concealed,
And thy true heart lies concealed,
Whereon lies your true heart;
Then, when you know it lies concealed,
And when you know it lies concealed,
To thee, thou art my true heart, and thy true heart
Thou art my true heart; thou art my true heart, thy true heart;
My true heart, thy true heart, thy true heart;
Thy true heart, thy true heart’s true heart;
thy true heart, thy true heart’s true heart;
My true heart, thy true heart’s true heart, thy true heart;
My true heart, thy true heart’s true heart, thy true heart;
My true heart, thy true heart’s true heart;
My true heart, thy true

======== CHECKPOINT 018 OUTPUT # 002 ========

spont that they desire to prove to others,
But the most gracious thing which the hand of thy Grace have wrought,
What thou art able to be in thy image,
The most gracious thing which thy grace showeth to me,
What thou art willing to show me,
Which I cannot see, or hear, nor read,
The thing that I may learn, the thing that I will not know.
I will tell thee how thou didst beguile my love,
That was the matter of my desire,
To know what it would be, when thou dost show it,
When thou dost tell me how it would be,
When thou dost tell me how I should say it:
When thou dost show it how I should say it,
When thou dost show it how I should say it;
When thou dost show it how I should say it,
when thou dost show it how I should say it;
When thou dost show it how I should say it,
When thou dost show it how I should say it:
When thou dost show it how I should say it,
When thou dost show it how I should say it:
Thou dost prove not my true self that I am so,
But my true self that my self hath created
And created to be a slave,
And is no part of my true self:
That is my true self, my true self:
My self is the slave of my self,
My self is the slave of my self,
My self is my true self, my true self:
And as a slave of my self,
What my self desires, what mine self desires,
What mine self sees, what mine self sees,
Where is my self’s glory, what mine self’s glory:
But this is true, that my self is no slave,
That is true, that mine self’s glory is no slave,
Nor in this that my self hath glory,
Mine self’s glory is no slave, mine self’s glory is no slave:
But now that I was a slave of mineself,
For if I should have gone away,
I should have been dead, that in my power had
To have left me to live on my death’s side:
This is true, that my self’s self
Had been slain; why should I now live,
When this self had been slain,
The one I sought would not have gone away;
But why should I now live, when all that thou dost crave,
Of whom the one would live,
Who, with my self, with mine self,
Would live the world dead?
Yet this is false, that I was slain
and would die on my own accord:
Yet this is true, that my self hath been slain
For whom I have not writ, and I did not make,
I know that my self did make, and made a mark;
I know that my self had done
This thing, and I do not think
That my self had done this act;
For what kind of part do you suppose I should play,
For what part do I have,
How much of what am I?
Or what part am I that I am,
Or what is I in this?
Or what parts of what I am that I am,
I do not think that this I should play,
That my part should play in my part.
“O, my child, how you did take away the life that was mine.
Yet I was such a babe that by my power I was born
The queen to-morrow was a widow:
I was a babe not to-morrow was a queen:
But that I might have lived,
That my life might have had my life in my life:
Why should I live so poor a day?
Why should I live in my misery,
I had none to take me,
that that you might see my self’s tears
That are in your eyes, and in my heart’s tears!
And you did steal, I did steal from you;
O, the woman from whose breast I was born
Had my life from her breast, that in it I should live,
That in mine I should live from yours,
That in mine life might I live!
O, the woman from whose breast I was born
Had my life from her breast, that in it I should die:
That in mine life might I live!
O, that woman from whose breast I was born
Had my life, that in it I should die:
The one of my parts, my self!
That is all.
Now if this were not so, why, why, why should I not make a vow?
For this is to prove what lies before the heart,
When I have

======== CHECKPOINT 018 OUTPUT # 003 ========

His white hair fell to his head like a white pear, but as that he wore, like a jewel,
Like an old garment, and his eyes were bright,
Like a star in a field, whose light was not dull;
She saw the fire that burning down the night,
Whereon a cloud rose in the air, and when he saw it,
His eye was like a flame, and his heart like a burning fire,
For heaven’s sake shall not be made so.
The man is dead, but the fire burns:
“Now I’ll go, and see what the world can tell me:
If the earth will show what is but black,
Thine eyes are so cold, that they may see,
Which the sun will find, and whereon, when thou shalt see it,
The heaven that is not white,
My heart doth desire thee with such grief,
But I will not do so.
‘Tis that, I shall see my friend die,
And the world shall not kill her,
For that is all I desire, and all I do desire,
For the greater the greater is she to be loved.
“When the wind, and all that is,
Will not blow out from my ear, and sing
“The stars and the deep, and thy life be,
Or the birds, and thy life be,
Or the grass, and thy life be,
Or the ocean, and thy life be,
Or the earth, and thy life be,
Or all that is, and all that is,
This is my love: this is my death.”
When he said this to her, she gave him up;
“Ay, dear child! not this, it is gone!
How do you love thy love, sweet child?
Or do you think of me and say,
‘Ah, I do not hate thee so much,
That my loving heart did kill thee;
And still I do love thee, and thou art thy self,
And thy self is to live, for thou art my self,
And mine self lives, and no one else’s lives,
The self which did kill thee, but for me,
As for thee I do kill thy self,
And now that thou art dead, for my sake I am dead,
For the self which I am now dead with thee,
The self which I will now die for thee,
I die for thee in thee.”
“Then he that is dead will be found,
And his living will be found to be dead.
But I will not live, for love’s sake,”
‘”O, O, thou wilt not die,
For I do not love thee so much,
Thou art thy self, and therefore, I am dead,
Since thou art my self, but thou art not dead,
That all life is dead, that all art dead,
And every good thing is dead, that every good thing is dead.
Love, thou art mine; thou art me.”
O! what are you, then? and are you not my own?
Why didst thou not kiss my sweet, sweet sister,
And say, ‘Thou art mine, and therefore, I am dead?’
No, I do not kill, for love’s sake,
Or else would you slay him, and thou wouldst steal his love.
“O, my dear one!” said he, “O, what is it to me
That thou didst not find me with such sweet eyes
So tenderly, so so tenderly,
Such beauty in my eye that thou so lov’d my soul
Upon thine eyes, thou art my true self,
And in thee I shall live, and all I will live will be,
That thou be my true self in all that thou livest.
O, in thy sight, and thou in my head,
As thou art my self, so shall I live, and all I will live will be
That thou art my true self in all that thou livest.”
“Who do you love,” quoth he, “to love, to love, to love,
To love, to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to love, and to

======== CHECKPOINT 018 OUTPUT # 004 ========

extinct is not yet dead.
But some have thought that thou hast lived, and yet never shall I,
For I did, thou art dead, and never will I,
For by the living is my life to live.
Therefore I do pray that thou mayst be true and
True will make my body be more fruitful
And, my soul that lives will be better.
And this thy true will in thee be true and
Love, thy true self, and love shall never make thee true.
That is why I have put this name to my face,
When in Rome I have the privilege to live.
When I have the privilege to live, I have no love.
When I have the privilege to die, I am no one to be loved.
When I have the privilege to live, and to die,
I have no grief.
When I have the privilege to live, I am dead,
My self is dead, and no one else’s self can be happy.
Yet, like the bird, my self lives, and thus I shall live.
“So now, since I am born, I shall not see
A shadow of a shadow on the face of this day;
Then I should not look, but, by myself, my self would,
Singing the night sky with pure love:
In this, I have no more self, no more,
Nor life for love to breathe upon my head;
And so, my self, being made light, is not yet dead.
O why no one can be alive to tell my name?
Wherefore, why should not I do this?
O why should I kill a man for wanton slaughter?
If a man be dead, why should I kill a woman?
Why should I kill a maiden with false modesty?
O why should I kill a poor woman with no disgrace?
O why should I kill a wife with honour?
“Wherefore,” quoth he, “If thou art gone to die,
If this world be not thou still in me,
If thou art gone, thou art dead, and the living shall not hear.
– I will slay thee and kill thee,
And by this, for ever, my soul, whose life hath been short,
To this life I can never live,
Not to love and be loved, nor be in love.
– I will destroy thee and kill thee,
And if thou art dead, kill thee,
And never kill thee, no more, no more:
Thou art not dead yet.”
I, like him, are so guilty, so sad,
That I may have his name, his place, his name
And make this true thing to my self,
To prove his true reputation, and so true to my life:
“When thou art gone, it is my wish,
That thou mayst know me, when thou art gone,
If any of my life is not in thee,
This must be thy life, my love’s sake,
To show thee that thou art not, then thou art the dead,
And that this is not thee, it is not thou that my love’s sake
Thou art alive, and this thy self is alive,
This is death’s name and self, and therefore must I die.
“O my love, if thy love were alive,
And my love’s sake alive, thou art dead,
This is death’s name and self, and therefore must I die.
“But, my love, now, how much worse was I,
O, when my love was alive,
Even as the night is in heaven;
Thy sight’s eye beheld the same sun;
It being night’s day, it doth not see the sun.
“No, no, that’s not my view;
When I say that love is dead,
It is dead for a time, and death for eternity;
And that eternity of death is the night,
That night’s sun of the sun,
And eternity of eternity the day,
And that of immortality the heaven,
So that thou mayst live this eternity of death.
“O dear friend, if thou hast a love,
Thou art in truth alive.
Love, if true, then thou art dead,
For love is dead, and thou art in truth dead.
-And now, now, for my love, I’ll die,
Because thou art dead, and thou art in truth dead.
-O my love, if thou art in truth alive,
Mine will be the living dead;
And thou art dead, and thou art in truth dead.
Love, and all things being,
Love is not dead, nor dead is it,
For if I had any, I would not love
A man, or even a woman,
Love was

======== CHECKPOINT 018 OUTPUT # 005 ========

issu in one, and to the same
The second with more than three or four thousand;
Which if I have, I should be dead:
But if I have not, I would die:
My soul shall be like a dove,
Shall be slain on her back with a sword;
And that she might eat her alive,
When she withers in flight;
She will never give a death to her,
For she had a name; she did her best,
That did bequeath her dead self;
“Then thou shalt know what I am,
The one true heart of my soul;
But a true heart no longer knows
That thou wilt say, ‘My son is dead!’
To my grief she gives him that he calls him.
The young beggar had not left home,
And, sad to behold the world,
To him she took that which she would give him.
“Now,” quoth he, “this poor poor creature
My name may be, but yet my life
This life my life, that thou mustst write,
So shalt thou write with it all my story.
I do not write so that I do not make thee blush,
Since thou art dead and am lost,
But the one I have, I know what I am,
And I do not write as thou,
Because thou art dead and am lost.
In this state thou art a dead creature,
But as dead as all time did be
Thou dost love a living creature,
And never in time did thy love seem dead.
Yet my life is the living creature,
For ever, when I live, the living creature is dead,
Even as it were still alive in my heart:
I have had the sight of it, the shadow of it
Grew to me from the ground, and now
It is gone, with my shadow still hanging
By a thousand-foot cloud; and I hear, ‘What hast thou told me?’
And yet the dead thing, like the dead thing,
is alive and knows thee,
Who, having begun, yet thou hast yet forgotten
When thou hast once made thee my acquaintance,
And now I know the heart of thee that hath wert,
That thou art my love, and thy love thy dear friend;
‘Tis all my fault, but for thy self-indulgent,
Till I can not bear it, I cannot bear it,
My self-indulgent self is now guilty
Of all wrong which I have done to thee:
“But why should I have so much blame?”
“Because I owe thee so much,” quoth she, “
And the other I owe thee,
For I owe thy worth much more.
For that I have, you owe me a thousand times
I did do something wrong with you;
To your fair creatures, that thou didst love
To a thousand-tuscan’s worth that thou didst owe,
O no more than that I have thy love:
Himself but my true self is in the end;
Therefore I can neither give you, nor have you give me
The treasure I have.
So be it; I do not do that to this world,
I did my will but for thy good.
If thou wilt lose me, then lose me not;
For this I did do not lose thee but for thy good.
This, then, would I leave you here?
You may say that I will not leave thee here,
For I have never been to this world and no one
To whom you have left me so long:
But I must say that for thy good,
That my heart with thee, and my heart with thee
For your good, and mine, for mine sake:
What if in my true life
You may have my true love, and I not you?
Wherefore this is my reason of love,
To my true love, and mine, for my sake.
I will not have thee in my true life,
If thou shalt have mine, and not mine,
Then I have mine as well as thy worth.
What is my true love worth,
And my true love worth as well as thy worth?
O my true love, thou art true,
Even in me I am thou my own true self,
Who thou dost love, and thy self wilt love me,
And in me thou dost love me, and thou shalt love me:
For in me I have nothing, and in thee none,
But in thee all I am, that I should have none,
And this my dear self be, that it should be
For thy love is thy love, and mine is thy love;
And in me thou shalt love, and mine shall be thy love,

======== CHECKPOINT 019 OUTPUT # 001 ========

bub a dame of shame,
She saw my heart with tender eyes,
And her face was pale as blood,
My blood was still a dull stain;
And yet, so much I should feel,
For my lust’d cheeks should seem hot,
To my bare cheeks, my cheeks still moist’d,
Would not hide it, nor kiss it, nor moan,
But I did kiss him, so as to kiss him,
And that it he should moan, and his voice
Would sound, his lips and his lips,
Her face and her lips’ lips would appear.
If she be thyself, I love thee;
If thy self be thou, I love thee,
But thou in thee didst kill my heart
The foul and shameful part of thy nature,
To which thou art still my shame,
My love was in thee, and didst make it seem,
To make the hell for me, to live in thee,
For death, and death in thee,
If thou live my shame, thou art not my shame,
And not all of me.
So my life is death’s shame,
My life is hell’s shame,
and hell’s shame in thee.
‘”But then I saw that all my heart was gone
A long time in their strife,
And on them I saw a fire, where the sun is hid,
They burn, and the fire is gone,
And in the ashes is life, as the fire is dead,
And in my time shall be my time,
And my time shall be time to live;
But now all is my shame,
And all is mine self, which I did in love.
Then I will not live till I have all my worth gone.
And then I will die, and then the sun shall be red.
‘And now my self shall die,’ quoth she.
But he takes his time to take a break;
His body, his heart, his heart’s power,
His body shall live, and his life shall live.
“Hush! my tears, you do not make them!
For when I thought you so angry,
Let me be silent, and my tears shalt be gone.
Then I have seen thy self, thy face, thy voice, thy name, thy body,
And yet thou live’st the world’s world’s world,
But thou art not in the world’s world’s world,
Thy world is mine, my world, and the world’s world
Thy self is mine, mine in thy self,
Your self in thy self, my self in thy self,
Thy self in thy self, thy self in thy self,
Thy self in thy self, thy self in thy self,
Thy self in thy self, thy self in thy self,
For thine self is thine self; thy self is thine self; thy self in thyself,
Thy self in thy self, thy self in thy self,
Thy self in thy self, thy self in thy self,
Thy self in thy self, thy self in thy self,
Thy self in thy self, thy self in thy self,
Thy self in thy self, thy self in thy self,
And mine self in mine self, thy self in thy self,
And mine self in mine self, thy self in thy self,
Thy self in thy self, thy self in thy self,
And thy self in thy self, thy self in thy self,
And mine self in mine self, thy self in thy self,
And mine self in mine self, thy self in thy self,
And mine self in mine self, thy self in thy self,
‘Then in the deep of the deep of thy self,
I’ll say, I’ll do this,
My love, my love, my love, my love,
As thou art, I will love thee more,
And, like a sad-pitying creature,
Mine self will not be touched;
His body will not grow old;
His eyes will not change,
His eyes will not see;
His hairs will not grow dry;
His hair will not decay;
His beard will not grow long,
His teeth will not bud;
His hair will not stop;
His eyelids will not peel,
His hair will not grow brown;
His eyelids will not stop,
His eyelids will not grow brown;
His nose will not grow red;
His nose will not grow yellow;
His tongue will not grow green;
His tongue will not grow red;
His neck will not grow,
His head will not grow,
His hands will not grow,
His hands, his head’s neck’s head’s head’s head’s head’s head’s head’s head’s

======== CHECKPOINT 019 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Availability and quality were the same as those which they were before.
When the sun rose from the dark night, and it beheld the stars,
And in their light doth appear,
Their beauty would shine in their beauty,
But their dullness doth appear as darkness;
For they that can make use of this,
They will do it in some more,
And more to the end of the world than the end of man.
And yet in my life I have been deceived,
That the love of my love, and my love,
With love of their self, and love of their self,
Which hath the same purpose to the life,
For love, that is love, is love, and the same to the mind,
When love, in a loving state, doth render light,
Like a kindling fire;
But hate, in a loving state, doth burn,
Like a kindling burning fire.
Or else, as it befits that this was
the case, what reason did I use for
To write the letter that I would write it,
To make some kind ornaments,
Which I would not have done,
If I were not a painter, to imitate them;
This to my honour I could say,
that my love is such, and that my heart is such;
For then, too great a perfection,
The perfection of my love is gone;
I must never live again, but I shall live;
For the love I made shall live,
And the love I did make shall live,
And the love that thou hast made shall live.
And the love that thou hast made shall live,
The love that thou hast done shall live,
And the love that thou hast done shall live.
In this you see, with some confusion,
The true name of my love, and my self,
Which being thought so, I cannot,
Dissemble it without offence.
And if he would not find fault with it,
For he is wronged when he looks on it.
Yet in this I can say,
This is mine love, and this is mine self:
For my self it is my self that makes the name;
And if the self was not the best in him,
The name did the poor thing seem so.
But I, like a child with my own body,
The best of all, was so wronged.
That is a pretty tale, but no more:
And for that purpose I ask the question,
Which I am bound by oath to give thee;
Thy life shall prove mine best that thou canst not sell:
The world is my storehouse: but now it is gone,
If thou cannot find it by a knife,
And to see the world’s worth I will kill thee.
O, why then canst thou be so cruel as to kill,
To slay me without remorse;
O, why then canst thou be so kind as to destroy,
To die for love, and for love for thyself?
I am the same with thee; I love thee that you love me,
Which is the beauty of this life,
In whose bosom I inveigle thy self.
Love’s end is short,
That when it hath grown, no longer to be,
Or all the world, no longer to be;
For love is never to be, but to be,
In short time, short of love.
For thy sake be so,
That in thine name thou dost not use,
That on thy own part thou shalt be remembered.
“This is a sad story,” quoth she, “why didst thou take thyself?
But when thy self had not been in the midst
of the strife of all eternity,
And to this a fearful and tempest-worthy rage,
What should I say?
Since, I was one, my name was no place,
And since that no more, nor even the name that I have,
Yet this is thy true name,
And this is not so:
Thy self, which was born as a slave,
Was made to live by thee, and thou,
And to the rest, and to the world to me.
As if I were a true king,
To this world to my self, which didst thou live,
And to this world to me, to whom thou lovest:
For I am all your self;
The world is my self; and this is my self.
What can I say, but with my heart it doth exclaim:
The world is my self;
And this is my self:
The world was made my self; and this is my self.
“My heart is full of grief; but thy heart is full of joy.

======== CHECKPOINT 019 OUTPUT # 003 ========

healed and to heal.

But this was not all, but many a part of them were, the more so;
But she said,
For by the time she was on the horse,
She could see no way to stop her;
So she did the same for a long while.
‘Here,’ said Lucretius,
‘why I did not want to be so,
And not to stay long, for I did wish that the day should soon die
To be so.
‘So to do,’ quoth she, ‘it may be, and then I am not.
For he that thinks the thought, and the heart of the truth
Gives him a light on such things.
‘”But not my self, and it was not in me
That I did think of your eyes, and to love you so,
I have not found my heart, nor my heart’s eye,
To show thee I cannot love my fair self;
That, by thy own will, I, that thou shalt never die
I can never be revenged for thy deeds;
I have not forsaken thy self;
And that self that I shall live in my love,
The shame that thou, iniquity, doth bear,
Will not show thee what thy shame doth be,
that, by thy self, thou art not guilty of thy sins;
For thy crime, thy trespass, and thy folly,
Shall be buried under thy ashes, for what have I sinned,
By this stain is this stain applied?
For in thee is said thy shame, thy shame, thy shame,
And all thy shame is thy shame, my shame, my shame,
And all your shame is my shame, my shame, my shame,
And all thy shame is my shame, my shame, my shame,
‘Then, now she says, there is love:
“If thou hast no fear, and thou wilt not bear my name,
Then if thou hast not desire, then I will not bear thy name;
If thou art not rich, thou art not poor;
If thou art not a child, thou art not old, and yet art worthily,
And then, still, my soul will be bereft, my spirit will never be bereft;
And with love and lust will I die in my sins.
She answers the following words.
“But you have sworn to me that the world will bear,
And to you that I will not bear what I cannot bear,
And the world I cannot bear will bear what it cannot bear:
And, by this means, this world will I bear;
And to this I shall find all the world,
The world I shall never find, nor even the world I shall find,
For when I find the world, the world I shall never find,
And therefore I would give thee what thou dost have.
‘”For this purpose thy servant did make this oath,
Which was the mark of all thy servility:
The mark of all thy shame, thy shame’s pride:
And now to all these, and to all the world that dwells,
The world that dwells, and all the world that dwells,
As far as the earth is, I would tell thee,
Since thou dost love me so much, but as none knows,
Who hears my voice but thou dost hear;
In her he takes one of thy lips and gives another,
And by them all in him in their tongues,
For they say he is listening, but not listening.
‘But I will not be so sweet a friend,
That in my love thou wilt stand my love,
I will swear, that thou wilt swear,
That thou wilt swear, that thou wilt swear,
And to that I will say the thing I cannot say,
That the thing is not true, but I will say.
‘”Then there was a kind of love, that doth seem
To entertain both sexes in that which they kiss;
When these lovers, who have dined with such delight,
Had a sweet view of the heavenly scene,
And made of a happy state so often to be seen,
They in that state sought to live like unto themselves,
And so their pleasures were often confounded,
For their love did not express a single fault,
And they did not find a thing better, but the opposite
Would have been better:
Thus the love that it did express is this:
So that my love may live, my love, will live.
‘I’ll be your friend now,’ quoth she, ‘though thou still think not,
I’ll not be so gracious, nor gentle as thy word.
‘”My love is no more than a stranger,
O, why didst thou forsake me,

======== CHECKPOINT 019 OUTPUT # 004 ========

“Thou shalt see what I have in store for thee,
And make haste to thy shame,
And show me the truth of thy love,
And thy heart shall not dine on thy faults.
‘”O have I been a deceiver? thou art a fool, a fool;
Look whence I have been deceived!
Look in my eyes, that I see the fault which mine eyes have hid.
But what didst thou, when thou were all that I had,
O didst thou do that which no one else hath done,
Thy love hath gone out of my sight,
And I saw thy love in my heart as thou didst.
‘So he was a fool, and all he did is wrong;
A lie, and so was this true love,
Thy love being a false thing,
Thy love thy mistress doth tell me what I will,
And my love would make thee pay,
As if I did owe thee back, or thy virtue
‘d with your fault’d excuse.
‘I saw you stand in the cross, and,
Like a sad prisoner, with a heart of death,
You took to heart the sad story of your love.
I say to you therefore, that thou shouldst not say it:
But for thy truth, let me tell thee why it is true.
And now, with thy full eye, behold I say that thy beauty
Is the colour of love, and my heart like a stone;
A stone which in the ocean, in the ocean,
The love of thee, thy worth is strong,
And thy strength is strong, and thy strength strong.
‘”So now, in my grief, my pride,
What is it that is so disgraceful,
That so disgraceful a picture
Shows, so sad, and yet so plain.
I now hear the sound of thine own hand,
O where in the world a picture is worth dying,
The image that can give your heart no light,
Can only be felt by this, by that, and so;
‘But there is not yet a picture like this
That lies before you, whose image so often seems
to shine in your mind.
‘So I did, for he is the painter,
And with the painter’s hand I painted the world,
And on the painter’s hand I painted the world with truth;
The painter is, that his painter knows what he is,
And on the painter’s hand the world knows what he is.
‘O how much it is worth, how much more than thy beauty,
That all my fair beauty doth desire!
No wonder! it is, for what is thy best,
Thou art most worth.
‘And thou mustst do this, that my life may have some good end.
For thou art my life, my death, and thy life is dead.
O why should I forsake thee when thou art my life’s self?
My life, my life, my life!
But not to be content with your own life,
To be content with all that thy worth gives thee.
‘”I am the world; it contains beauty’s sweetest,
And is not confined to the universe,
That doth dwell in it, nor yet shall it be.
But my world is a prison, and I cannot abide.
‘Then where is I with thee,
Where I am in thee,
When I am in thee,
And where is my mind?
“And where is this self in thee?
For I do love thee, and my love is thou,
And if thou do, be my love.”
“The world, and what it was, is in thee;
Therefore all my goodness and my goodness’s parts are:
Let the love that is made all-good be made,
And that is pure, to make it a thing.
If thou dost not know how it is made,
By the simple power, it is made: but if thou learn it,
Then love will not daunt thee with thy false,
Thy pride and thy false modesty make thee strong;
For love is strength, strength is death,
strength is love; and my life is like love’s power:
And so is thy love, and thy life like mine;
For the false which thy love confounds,
Which you to thee have confounded,
Thy love confounds thy strength, which thy love confounds.
When, in truth, thou canst bear thy thoughts,
Or in thought, thy mind confounds, your imagination
confounds with this, and that, and so,
I should make a false thought, and a false memory,
And therefore a true mind should confound:
This confound would then make a false mind,

======== CHECKPOINT 019 OUTPUT # 005 ========


(in the summer time)

‘Cause they’re dead

So fair is my soul

That the sun can see my thoughts

All I need say to thee,

Are thee all the better of them all,

Though with my eyes and ears I lie

As a prisoner to the prison of the sun,

And to him with me you are more dear than I am,

Because you have made me like myself,
As they did my face I’ll not die,
Yet with you I’ll be, too, but not in you,
I’ll be, and I’ll prove you wrong,
To spite me I’ll not hide,
And that if I stay with you till I find you,
And you and me, when we leave each other,
And kiss each other’s faces, or else say this,
‘Tis better than you know, if your life is right,
Or if it is all in vain,
And there is nothing more that you’ll give.

‘Thou shalt love them,’ quoth she, ‘though the world’s sun is dead,
And it takes no place, nor light to see the world,
But to love you, thou shalt make them your self.
‘No,’ quoth she, ‘it is my soul’s self,
If they were, and if no one is,
I shall make them yours;
I will make them all mine;
They are mine to behold: but I will not let them live.
‘No,’ quoth she, ‘nor do I love you,
And do you think your love my friend,
I know not what is in you;
No, you will never love me: that’s your thought,
That no one else loves me,
But mine that you will love;
For though my love be mine to hate,
Nor your love my love to love,
Nor your love your love to hate;
And though your love be mine,
Yet me, by you, and mine,
My truth shall bear fruit,
And to your lips your beauty shall lie.
His name is unknown, but it shall be heard
And shall be sung by that which is heard;
But from that which the wind whispers,
To the name which I hear, and from that which is heard,
To hear you to see me to see you dead,
For he was my self, my self to hear him speak.
O, in my heart this man, like the sun,
With such a fair face, in a clear and glowing fire;
My mind, like a pure-hearted flower,
Which was sweetly placed on his cheek,
Shall he beheld thy love?
That is the true love,
Where it hath the full power to stain,
And on the heart of a man’s mind,
Is made to weep like a weeping flower,
When all the blood of the world hath done so.
This is what men’s lips were to eat,
And this is what they were to weep with,
With lips that they might see thee dost delight.
‘And then when the wind blows on it,
They will look like flowers, as though they did see thee,
And then I will make love to you,
To you, to them, to be thy love:
But I do not desire to be your love,
When you, like an altar to thy altar,
Stand beside me to do thy love’s work;
But when the winds blow on them,
The fire will sing and burn up that verse,
That which thy tongue shall give thee.”
‘So it appears,’ quoth she, ‘in your hand she says,
“For love’s sake thou shalt go, that it might be better,
For love’s sake thou shalt stay;
For love’s sake thou shalt stay, but I know not where to go.
O, sweet beauty, I must have some excuse for you.
Thy love, I love thee, I love thee;
If I love you like so much, it is all the greater,
That thou lovst the world’s most precious jewel.
What canst thou say?
Look thou, thou art not my friend,
Because I have sworn to hate thee;
This is a shame, that I must die,
Since I did so swear, and I never did make thee,
As yet to have your love is a sin.
‘Look then on that ugly stain I have put upon thy face;
Who, by thy beauty, I saw before thee;
And now I shall say, Adonis, how this foul thing I did say;
This foul sin, which thou hast made against my love,
Is so foul that I have so abhorred it,
That I am mad

======== CHECKPOINT 020 OUTPUT # 001 ========

poked in his teeth,
Or in his brain as in a mad boy,
Which, having no other use but his eyes to fix
My mind, should have some light to my eyes,
Which, to my eye seemed as though he did see
All things within myself; whereon I began to weep,
And all the eyes of all my lips to my lips doth appear,
And yet, behold, what beauty is to those eyes,
That so sweetly I can see with a pale face,
Or in a sweet state, that such beauty so sad;
In his pride, and his love,
The more do I see, the clearer do I know;
And now I know that I may see what is in me;
For though not yet that state of my youth,
What I love, nor know myself, yet my love
I will make love, that thou mayst seem,
That I may find my nature with all thy love,
Though thy nature be made to look less,
Then thou mayst seem my beauty, that thou mayst seem,
And so thou mayst not be so, unless thou know my heart,
For all thy love should be, that thou mayst seem thy beauty,
And thou mayst have my true love, that thou mayst have mine,
That my true love may be thy true self,
Who is my self’s true self?
But if thou mayst do this, then thou shalt have mine,
Though this thou mayst do with thy true self,
I am thou thyself’s self, thy self’s self’s self,
And I will make thee so, I will make thy self so,
For thou shallst be my self’s self, thy self’s self,
In this in me shall I prove true,
But not in thee in thyself shall I prove false,
For what I desire is so rare,
That thou art not in me.
This book, I had made it, in the day of death
I know all my errors and all my errors will,
This life that I have begun to make,
Yet in this life that is to follow will be:
This life that is now to come will be
The end of all, which is to be set aside
For ever I will write, my death to write;
And ever I will die, for ever will my life
Tearing itself from under my skin;
Love shall burn in my life, so that I see it burn.
But love hath a beginning, and I do not know how to end.
How shall I stop love from being a constant thing,
That at times when it is being ended there must appear,
Love in my life seems to stay still, and at times to change,
For it seems to do away with all, but I am no longer there.
And yet love, by some kind of accident,
To show itself before my eyes, did my soul make light
Against death, and to him that would not fear me,
At every turn the other would do so.
“So he takes, with much ado, some glass and some stone
And throws up his tongue, and bids it not be so,
That at his coming he might be praised
Even as his lips should be saluted by the Romans,
Or at the sun that set from the stars.
And at his parting he gives his glass a heavy salutation.
O sweet Roman friend, I swear,
That with one of my own, the other,
What dost thou say that thou art a Roman,
Who dost thou make me his wife’s wife,
For what I have done unto thee will do unto thee
That thou mayst make me yours.
But I have sinned in my sinful state;
I will not live again till the day that thou shalt die,
And all this will I do at the will of the devil,
That will show thee all my fault that you do owe me.
When he that sits by the fire of his heart
Burns with fire with smoke, as he that lies by his fire
burns with smoke with fire.
Thus do I find myself in the midst of them,
And when my face should come to light,
In his black eyes would I behold his face and his lips;
When he had put my face to his lips’ lips’ lips,
He could not bear sight of me;
But then his eyes did not see me, nor did they hear me,
Nor did they hear me cry, for no part of me did cry.
‘So I ask,’ he says, ‘When are you going to die?
O where was thy beauty when you were buried,
When thy cheeks did stain your cheeks?
When thy hands did thy nails drench your fingers?
When thy eyes were full

======== CHECKPOINT 020 OUTPUT # 002 ========

century’s age) from a thousand years.
In the midst of that, his breath did fall on her;
Her cheeks were full of tears, and her nose full of tears;
And, as if she had thought that he were gone, his eyes came back,
‘A poor old fool,’ quoth he, ‘that did kill me to bring
To this sad ruin that still lies.
How can a poor old fool excuse his senseless acts?
How can I be so poor as to blame you,
In so fair a state of affairs?
Poor fools, poor men! you were not the worst;
Hadst thou, then we were still thy fair,
As soon as thou took advantage of me,
To rob thee of my advantage and steal thy strength,
Whose strength I treasure and love,
Whereof in thy life, by thee art sought
For thy treasure, and to mine,
O, whereof thy treasure shall mine? wherefore I say to you,
The golden rings, and all my other ornament,
In such a love that all thy jewels,
And all thy jewels’ ornament, shall not stain,
Nor blot thy heart with a filial stain.
But what a joy it is that, with love,
My heart finds itself with this unkind thing;
Even my heart’s fault, that no thing could lend;
Or my love may my love’s stain on all,
This being the truth, and truth to each man’s mind,
I can never be found dead!
Even so, in heaven, my soul did leave,
In the night, when I shall be once dead,
To live on again, till I have been again
Till death doth arrive at my present state;
Even then thou shalt say in thy heart I am dead;
And, ’tis my duty, as captain, to be
My guide, to be thy captain, to guide the woe.
My heart’s heart is mine, I am thy self:
To thy self I am a thief,
And to thy self I am a thief and thief’s thief.
‘If thou have not seen thy self,
Or read of thy self’s self’s self’s self,
Then my self’s self, in the time
Which hath not yet gone, will not be seen,
Though my self be seen: and in thee art seen;
Or in thee be seen, not seen:
When thou art seen, my self will have been,
To see thee, my self will have been to see;
And where did thy self appear? where did thy self hide?
‘”But all of my life was made mine,” quoth he,
That he that was not my master,
Or was a slave, as I were,
Nor am I, nor can I be:
“Wherefore be not love’s fair eyes, which do not lend
My sweet desire, that thou wilt cherish,
And by thee, all thy sweet, pure self,
Will live in thee as I live,
And never to thy self, and never to thy self.”
“I have been with thee long,” quoth she,
“but not in so short a time;
For all love, all of it, is in my sight.”
“Why, madam, this poor widow,
Who would not pay up her life
As she would owe her husband? but what a doting father
Says she, as though she were with him,
That she herself had no part to live;
Then, lo! why do I speak this, that I am with thee?
Who would she be if she did be with you?
And in this is the fault of all things,
In which my heart can no more rejoice.
Even so, I will not allow thee to boast.
“Father,” quoth he, “I have been, I am, I will be,
That thou art my self, and thou hast been,
That thyself is no more than I am,
Even now it is, and now my self is gone,
Thy self, my self, my self, thy self, my self.
Who would live that thou wouldst kill,
Or that thou didst kill him?
My self, mine self, my self, my self,
Even now, I still live, yet never die.
“O, my heart’s heart, O my heart’s heart,
To whom I pray, my heart to be buried,
But, as thou dost love my love,
So thou dost love my love, so thou dost love my heart,
The heart that in my love thou dost hate,
And the heart that in thy love thou dost love,
Thy heart that in thy love thou dost love,

======== CHECKPOINT 020 OUTPUT # 003 ========

charact’ to see,
But I must not do aught to hinder,
Being thus much envious:
“What shall I say when I tell thee that thou art here,
To whom I can best make my acquaintance,
Being in such a state to do my duty?”
Which is my duty, now in this wretched age,
The poor maiden of a poor slave,
Wherefore she should tell the wretched wretch the truth,
And do the same with his own.
But when her sweet, happy, and virtuous maid hears
Their words, she perceiv’d her sorrow,
That it is not, but her own fault,
Which she calls a thief, and it hath been
Her fault not, and the thief hath not left.
Her sorrow, she calls a false thief,
And when her good-doing daughter, the sweet,
Her sad-thinking eye, the dumb, the ill, the dumb,
The sweet, and thou all that’s right,
All her heart’s fault, all her soul’s fault,
All her self’s fault;
And it is with thee, with me,
And I shall see how it is, and make thee say it,
To love, with me thou wilt prove,
That thyself is made the best by me,
Of you shall live that false, and I shall live in thee.
“That’s so, Adonis, what shall I say?
As the dead horse doth trot behind,
To see Lucrece with the sun; as if I should leap:
With his neck thither doth he wail,
And as if he’d fly, or to the ground doth he rise.
‘If it should all prove wrong, then no man will be angry,
Nor, on that oath, will I make up my mind,
To say what my heart is for, to prove my case.
Love hath his mark, but he wears his mark;
And now love’s mark is the thing he’s not,
To show him the true image of that which he’s done,
And thus we are the fairest of all,
Even if we lie and wait for him:
Since now I live, and have done with him what I can,
Then I have to live by him, but as he dies I must live,
To leave him dead and live, for ever.
“But in my heart, ’tis a curse,
And every part must be removed.
To make it all so I’ll say,
To give the life of me to him,
to die for his sake, and die for his sake.
But why then did thou dost dote on him,
And yet remain still to dote on me?
‘Tis not so, but for thy reason thou dost make it
Mine own will: ’tis for the sake of thy self,
And by it I live, with thee,
And thus he is with the dead in my mind;
Which makes him seem to me to be dead,
And I think that thou art his son,
The reason that thou art dead should be for thy sake,
Or should I be, with thee to live in thee,
And live to die in thy will,
To live in his will, and live to die in mine.
‘Yet yet thou wilt tell this,
To show that it is not mine, and my will being,
That should thou live on him and kill him?
For he doth bear it for me,
And in this I shall kill him, and this shall kill me.
“But why didst thou not, as thou were,
Till he would not bear thee? why then didst thou live?
How canst thou live on him when thou livest and die?
For thou art me, thy life being alive,
But mine is dead, my life to live on thee.
“Thou hast me, but mine self is alive.
Thou art mine self, my self alone;
Thou art mine, my self alone, my self alone,
And mine self alone, my self alone, all living,
O what love will I see with this self,
That by it my self hath life lived,
Even as I was once dead and all things are dead,
And by it shall life again live.
In this death shall I kill myself,
And this death shall I live to kill.
When he comes to his own gate,
His hand, which was fast,
And drew up his knife,
With such a violent knife did his knife touch.
‘If not,’ quoth she, ‘this shall be a war
To prove me wrong,’
He then drew up his knife and with it
Sharpened, sharpened, sharpened, the knife

======== CHECKPOINT 020 OUTPUT # 004 ========

wanted to say something about the way that she’s living,” she added; ‘It seems to me quite strange.’
‘I love your beauty, my dear, and you are my beauty, that hath taught me your self to love another, when I would not have it, being in love with myself:
But thou art mine self and I am my self alone;
Nor do I know thy self by my own, and I know none but thee,
Nor did I ever know thy self by thy self:
But now my self hath begun to love thee so much more,
That if I would leave thee for thy sake, she never would hear
Of thy loving friend that loves me, and thus thou dost despise me,
So I love my self and myself for thy sake,
Then will thou dost kill me and make me dead.’
‘O,’ quoth she, ‘how can I help thee?’ ‘No, I want you to die!
To die is a matter that is not worth fearing,
And what you must die is nothing worth fearing.
“And so I leave you with my old acquaintance,
That my time is gone, and when you come home I shall
Inverse you, which thou shall I have on my way.
“And then shall thy tongue say, in my heart:
‘But how sweet a fool thou art, thou wast born,
To die for my sake, to die for thyself.’
“O, that is what I have told thee to do!
If thou mayst speak, then I am dead,
O, that is how thy voice sounds, thou art dead.
And thou art not the worst of my sins,
But not the least of mine sins.
And then shall I live, where I had my beginning,
When this old night thy grace did take me away,
So that I in me remain, and by that is done
My old friend that is still living is dead.
I do not love thee, I have not the heart to love thee,
Nor shall thy self know of thy worth,
Nor in me should I strive for my living,
To love thee in spite of myself,
Or of my life, for death’s sake.
This is my desire, my duty, and my will,
That thou mayst help me in the way,
Or else I will not so help thee.
Now I, in thy bosom, with thee still standing,
Cannot be silent, that thou must, too, in thy self,
Have a voice or heart, and make me feel thy desire.
But I love you, yet I did not love you
My self, nor thy self, nor thy self, nor thy self,
Which is all that’s true in thee, and all that’s untrue.
“So for me that thou art my self, what shall I say?
For this thou art my self, what shall I say?
For this thou art my self, what shall I say?
For this thou art my self, what shall I say?
This thou art my self, what shall I say?
The first, the second, the third, the fourth, the fifth,
The last, and the last shall all live on thee.
“I have no time to waste; and thou hast a time to lose!
If thou art my self, nothing can distract thee,
Unless thou art my self, and I am thy self!
The self that doth dwell in me that I live,
is not mine, and not thy self;
For in me thou hast a time, and a time to lose;
And in me thou hast a time, and a time to lose;
For if thou art mine self, this Time, this Time, I have lost,
For if thou art mine self, this Time, this Time, I have lost;
As if thy self did dwell in thee that I did live.
I am your self, and the Time that thou hast dwelled in me.
For the Time thou hast dwelt in me this Time is gone.
‘”And then, in the midst of all this tumult,
He drops his hammer, and cries: “Thy self, thyself, thyself!
Thy self, thyself, thyself! thyself, thyself! thyself! thyself!”
“So thou wilt kill this coward,
And to him this will I do my will,
The more I kill him, and the more I kill him.
And yet by that will I must kill thee!
Thyself, thyself, thyself, thyself! thyself, thyself! thyself! thyself! thyself! thyself! thyself! thyself! thyself! thyself! thyself! thyself! thyself! thyself! thyself

======== CHECKPOINT 020 OUTPUT # 005 ========

KEN and me
That she can keep and cherish:
For she sees how far we are from each other:
I’ll come when she shows her face is right.
Or he says to her, ‘Grief for you, for my love;
For shame for you, for thyself I’ll prove
With thee what lies beyond all praise.
‘But this, I will not have,
If thou still livest still in this state.’
O! let not thy death alone!
Look not upon my death,
As my life lives on thee.
When he gives her what she needs,
And she receives it as his delight;
To whom he shakes his hand in a gentle embrace;
I beg the grace of thee, I beg you,
From his heart, whose spirit hath a right,
Whilst thou livest and reign in my life.
For where can I find no life, but beauty?
O where can I find beauty’s sweetest face?
O where can I find beauty’s fairest eye?
O where can I find beauty’s most glorious taste?
Where can I find beauty’s purest heart?
And where can I find beauty’s sweetest soul?
what more must it have than thy life’s sake?
The thought runs to the bottom of my mind,
So I do not want to answer,
Since I think thou art a self-possessing creature.
In this self-possessing image doth dwell
The pure self which in thy self I find
A self-contradictory love.
Then how shall I find, wherefore I might be?
“My love hath the right of sovereignty,
To tell thee what lies in my heart.
No love will ever abide so long,
That there might live such a loving bond
That no one would stop, nor all could see;
This is why, the fair maiden being wail’d with fear,
She cries aloud, ‘No love to thee, no love to me!’
She, being afraid of him, exclaims:
‘This poor creature hath no love of the world!’
“This poor creature, this wretched creature,
So is this to all blame, not only for your sake,
But for the world as well.
‘My love lives and dies, and will live,
O the poor creature whose love is mine,
And this death of thy love doth live,
My love doth die, and will live,
O the poor creature whose love is mine;
And this death of mine doth live, my love die.’
‘”He says, ‘O love, thou art the world’s best;
Look, my boy, the world is but a poor poor poor
This being but an ass that feeds himself;
This being, my love dies, and is dead:
He goes by me and I by him,
‘So may this be my true self,
A true self my true self,
And my true self my true self,
And my true self my true self;
In such a state is my true self,
That with thee I am no longer mine.’
And at the parting, where it will be
That thou art, let my love, who is of me, weep
For this is the last verse of my life:
‘That now the night time when thy love’s worth lies,
Thy love is lost, and thy self doth stand,
And thus he shall see what is done,
And when thou have made him feel that thy love is lost,
To make him see what he would see if it were left in him,
For he shall make him feel that his love is lost.
“That now I am no longer in love,
But thou art gone, thou art gone, and I am gone;
So shall he know that thou art gone, but I am gone;
So shall I know that thou art gone, but I am gone;
He then runs from where he lies to greet him,
And finds him, being now gone,
and with her turns away,
He takes his arms round her neck, and she bends her knees,
Making him cry out, ‘O dear child!
Let me tell thee why thou didst take me,
Let me tell thee why thou didst kill me,
And let me tell thee why thou didst kill me,
O lovely sweet child! thou art my friend, and I will not forgive thee;
For as thou wast the only one,
Thou didst kill me, thou hast done it again.
‘For if thou were in thy youth,
That thou didst kill me, thou didst kill me again.
For if thou were in thee,
Thy self had done it again, and I shall be;
Thy self is no more

======== CHECKPOINT 021 OUTPUT # 001 ========

humming and the sun began to rise.
He gave her his best,
And on his chest, like a queen, rose
That she might be crowned,
If she did not live.
‘My love, dear,’ quoth she, ‘this man is a coward,
Till now I must fight his foe.’
‘Then he will make his foe pay!’ quoth she,
The stormy morning that had begun to fall
Upon the shore of her shore,
And with all her splendour was slain,
And with it the rain from their streams.
The wind’s heavy blow, as he went,
With loud blasts she saw her own face,
And the rain that fell in it on her face,
She saw it, and she, with all her heart,
Doth fear him, and to-morrow sees him gone.
He must stay with me to make it seem
That he was alone with me;
So I have some other task with me to do.
For I did not think I should hear you say this,
And with a certain desire to say that you had some more,
I did not think of it, but of this strange night
Till that you were gone, and I was asleep.
But you are not here, I do not know it.
‘O, dear, I do not suppose I am in love,’ quoth she,
Then she adds the name of your friend,
To make her acquaintance with you.
‘But now that my heart is gone,
And that I do not think I am in love with you,
That in your absence you will know,
And in my absence you will know the meaning of my,
Now I know you, you are the friend of the stars,
And I have many things to add,
To you is a kind of pleasure, and to me a kind of hate:
To-morrow thou art not to speak of love,
O, this is what a poet is composed:
But in thee I am to weep,
But my love, this is what a poet is composed,
Let the words weep, O, for this I am to bear,
And in thee I will suffer;
In thee this will be my last verse,
I will cry, and for this I will writ:
If thou wilt make a man swear to make me swear,
And if thou shalt lie, and swear to steal,
I will make him lie, and he will steal.
‘But I love thee, you are my husband,
For if thy love were dead I should swear
That this life was to your love,
And thou shouldst remain dead in my life;
I would not let my love be dead,
Nor would I have you dead for life,
To stay alive for ever.”
‘But be it remembered that I shall never forget,
Since life is mine eternal love.
But what do I hear, thou poor mortal?
That thy soul’s dead and mine immortal life,
What love canst thou bear for thy life,
And for mine as thy heavenly love,
That is my love and your love in thee,
And then this dear man is dead,
And this dear woman was my soul,
To live where thou art when thou art dead:
To have no fear of death again,
Nor is my life to fear death with fear;
For thou art dead and I am alive,
To have this truth made known,
Let this be what a poet is composed,
What the poets say, what the Romans say,
That is a book that my mind hath taught me,
Or the best-told book of my youth,
That I may be so full of thoughts
That I should give the mind an advantage:
So then what art thou? Time will not tell thee
If thou stay long enough in the night;
I will tell thee what is thy true desire,
What is thy true hope? Time will tell thee what thou willst,
But thou knowest none of thy best,
What thou art is thy self’s self’s self’s self.
‘But let thy self be thy self,
And by thy self thy self be thy self’s self’s self,
When the sun, which doth shine for thee,
Sings a strange, strange song that hath no rhyme,
To rhyme with the sky, or with all the hills;
Or with the winds that have blown;
Or the clouds that have blown;
Or with birds that have gone down;
or with birds of prey, or with swans;
Or with a dove that he shall fly away;
But let us suppose you have some verse,
Which I can’t have, and I have none to write.
For some time he tells stories of his exploits,
Of his

======== CHECKPOINT 021 OUTPUT # 002 ========

outh-like in his voice,
To say to his lover: ‘Hear my name: but I love not thee,
Thy mind knows not thy true form: but now I see thy name,
My name’s truth doth shine: so shall thy self,
And to my self thy self thy self doth prove,
To all other than thy self, to that which my heart,
Whose ears doth hear the proud song of mine ear.
And yet thou art to my heart my name, my true self,
But as thou wilt, as thou wilt I, in me thou art,
The true self, the self whose true nature
Is to me a self of love.
“Then she takes him by the arm, that he may have his tongue;
Thy tongue is her breast; but it hath not her breast
Which in truth she hath kept by all her parts;
The breast that doth speak her words still hath hers,
That hath not his body’s name but his,
And now he lies where he lies by his breast;
But, as soon as he hears his true name,
Thou shalt not see the sight he hath of me;
Thou shalt see my true self, and yet, by my true self,
I remain my true self and not yours;
Thou shalt not behold that thou wilt, and yet
My true self, for thy false self,
Thou art mine self, my true self, and thou hast no excuse,
Which thou shalt kill in the pursuit of that false self:
That thou wilt, and yet, I am my self, and thou wast not,
Thou art mine self, and thou wast not,
Thou art mine self, my true self, and thou art mine,
Thou art mine self, my true self, and thou hast no excuse:
And yet my true self, and yet thou hast no excuse,
Thou art mine self, my true self, and thou hast no excuse:
So be it: thou art my self, my true self,
But thou hast no excuse, I am mine self;
For if thy true self should be slain,
So shalt thou wert with death as well;
Since it did not die, my true self will remain.
I am he, the most perfect, and his true self will live.
That being done, he takes the babe to the bath;
To make it dote his breast that she be woken,
That it may rest assured that she remain in my bed:
She takes this, and takes it again,
And it is so.
“When she is doting on him,
With a kind-kissing he begins to play with him,
And if I were to be forced to go,
With my tears would not do justice,
That a kind heart should weep more than tears would bear.
“The boy, though his beauty do show,
His looks and his grace do not cure;
And yet as he runs and walks, still his eyes
Which they will love him for their own sake:
To be there at all as the world can be when it sees him;
I cannot tell, but I shall have my image in my head;
Nor can I be a painter in my mind’s eye.
Thy self being so, yet still my self is mine,
And my true self is mine, and my true self my self’s.
Therefore I say unto him that thou art mine own self;
Thou art mine self, thy true self, and thy true self my self.
And the woman I saw was as she did when I saw her,
She, in a gentle hand, laid her hand on her breast,
And on it she touched the tip of her tongue,
And all her lips were with a sweet, white kiss.
Thyself she touched, and on it the tip of her tongue,
And her lips were with a soft, wet tongue;
So her tongue wrenched against the tip, and in the kiss,
She doth say, “I know thee.”
And this she did in a deep breath,
And then she puts her fingers upon his cheek,
And they kiss the base of his head.
Then his cheeks are warmed with water;
And her hand is in his hair;
And his chin is cold, and his chin is hot;
Then his eyes do look at her; and his tongue doth kiss her;
Then in his arms are his hands, his arms his right;
Then in his arms are his legs, his arms his left;
Then his breast is bare, and his chest bare;
And on his breast are his hands, his hands his right;
And on his breast are his legs, his legs his left;

======== CHECKPOINT 021 OUTPUT # 003 ========


So be it,

And my poor love’s fault you would make mine.

Or else let me be thy love’s husband

And, if thou willst love me so,
Or else leave me in thy wretched bed.

Now she’s quite old, she’s quite ill,
Now she’s not quite as young, she’s quite ill.

And it seems she can tell what’s wrong,
But not where she is at all,
Unless she is in some sort of deep trance.

‘Look,’ said I, ‘let me see what kind of girl I am.
My husband, my love’s wife, my father’s son.
So it is in thy hand,
Who, in your love’s self,
Will give thee all thy life, and thy soul a hundred times free.
‘”My heart hath been stained with blood,
And all my eyes with blood;
‘Now be it, ’tis a sad day,’
And at night, when thou wilt not go,
Thy soul bewitch’d me with a gentle kiss.
‘Ah,’ quoth she, ‘it was my invention
That thy self came to this world,
To make thee so much happier.’
And yet this did not persuade her.
So she took physic, and told him why
He did not like her, but for her sake was gone.
‘You shall not have time,
To sing a hymn to my beloved youth.
She looks sadly upon him, and she runs on;
‘For he doth not say such things;
But why else could he say, ’tis I he calls your name?
He is not like some young girl,
For he is thy patron, your friend.’
‘Look,’ quoth she, ‘let him go,
And look, for thy honour in his eyes is lost.
‘’O love, how dost thou then love
My self? what a wretched fool I am!
‘You mean, poor child, by your beauty
As beauty in your self is, so by your beauty is
The child that doth look upon me with disdain.’
‘’What love,’ quoth she, ‘do not love,
Love in my self am, and in my self is
Love for the world, and Love for this world is.
The boy that hath love in himself,
And then do not know that love is with him,
But know it in love of love of my love.’
Yet still his heart did weep when she did see him.
‘So far my eyes have been drawn,
To be gazed upon as if by a ghost,
And in my heart’s eyes every eye hath been seen,
And my heart knows more, but none of my heart knows how
To behold all my beauty in thy beauty.
“The best friend is the worst friend,
And in thee every ill, and in every poor
The world so much as to make all worse.
As his blood may bleed, his mind, being blind,
Is filled with thoughts of his own sin.
For that sin which you shall see is my pride,
And yet I have no pride in you,
But as you will no doubt see that my pride
Is full of lies and lies that no man could ever know.
My pride in you,
And I for your pride in me,
Since that I shall love your self, I will love you,
Even so to make you so much more than your self is.
‘So when thou wilt come to my love’s bed
I’ll lay the knife by my side,
and when thou shalt be come I’ll lay the knife by thy side.
‘”And then I saw thee stand by my side,
And as the wolf on the bushes began to cry,
She fled from him, and fled the others from him.
She took him by the hand, and tied his arms together.
‘Love,’ quoth she, ‘is not the same,
As the one who is but the one to love thee.
‘I will give thee a present,’ quoth he, ‘and I will have
My dear daughter, and make love to thee;
And in this I give thee my life,
And in this I make you to live in the world.’
‘”And with that he did leave him,
And with that he ran,
The herd of horses that they fed on,
And she followed the herd of their neighs,
The herd of the herd that had fled before,
And she did fly in her herd with her tail high.
Then she thought the man she met
Was an old-timbered boar, that she had seen on the ground,
And she saw him and then thought his face was gone

======== CHECKPOINT 021 OUTPUT # 004 ========

stimul and deadly
Whereof he, with his large load, was forced to ride
So high and so slow, in his haste to get
With his heavy arms, and so wide that he could not meet
The bulwark, but with his body to bail
His strength and his breath, and thus his breath was discharged;
‘Look how I did fall!’ quoth she, ‘he had no courage,
Nor love, nor love-love nor love, nor fear;
He had no courage, and the greater part of him was dead;
And it being night, all he could do was fall asleep;
But that night in which he slept was an early,
At last he was asleep and did fall asleep,
O thou what a coward! How dost thou go, then, that I am dead?
O what hast thou done, then, that thou livest?
Thou hast done all this by thyself,
Since thou hast come by thy own self,
With the aid, I must not be troubled;
O what a coward! thou knowst, in his breast it is!
Why shouldst thou lie down in the hot furnace?
Why shouldst thou be so quick to kill the child?
Why shouldst thou not be more in love with my mother than she?
“O! what do I wish to see!” quoth she, “myself?
What have I done wrong, what have I done wrong?
For I have done wrong, and have never had any other wrong;
I have done wrong and am done wrong now.
But now what a man hath my life I have done wrong;
How can it be worthless to me that I should die,
That life is precious unto you, and to you that I live?
And yet, my love, I love you all,
To your life in me you die, mine being all my glory.
If there were no love then,
Her life would in me be worthless, her life in you worthless.
If there were no love then, my life would be worthless, her life in you worthless;
If there were no love, your life in me worthless, your life in me your dear;
But if you did my love love, your life in me worthless, your life in me your dear;
So I would not, but be dead with thee, and thou shalt stand,
Upon my back and stand with him upon my chest,
And when he sees me fall on his back, and when he cries he lays
Against his back and kneels, in his love’s arms,
To hold her still in his hand, his lips on his cheek;
‘Thy love is strong, and all thy part strong;
But my heart and thy body are strong, and all thy part strong,
And yet your heart cannot be strong, yet my heart is strong;
And thy part strong, and thy part strong,
And still my heart cannot be strong, yet my heart is strong:
Then thou shalt be no man’s advocate for the weak.
This my sorrow is for thee, my sorrow for thee,
And this my distress for thee is for thee, my distress for thee;
And this for my sake I desire my sorrow,
For the sake of my shame, my shame for thee,
Thou wilt make my shame my sweetest sin.
And therefore love is so hard a curse,
It is hard for a man to bear it,
And I am so hard my tongue is hard hard for thee:
O, if thou wilt make me so hard,
Then my love is my shame and my shame my pride,
And I cannot love you, but love cannot love you,
And I have no love, but love is mine,
And all those in me must remain,
And I with you and you alone are dead:
But with thee, like a knife to my knife,
O knife, knife is dead, thou must not die;
For as I love thee, thou must live in me.
The devil’s knife did take thee; but with his blade
I will no more kill thee, my self will die.”
“O, then,” quoth she, “there is no love,
Even as a stone to a wall is so to me,
That the eye to a door is so near,
And the eye from a glass to a fountain so far,
Whereon every eye hath their true view;
The sight, the taste, the colour of our flesh
May be seen and not felt; and now I live,
And my life in you in me will be lived again;
As in thee the fire of a fire shall no longer burn
But thou shouldst burn this fire to burn it anew:
So my self in thee I die:
My self in thee I survive

======== CHECKPOINT 021 OUTPUT # 005 ========

ords from the world to the earth’s will:
Which then are the true kings and true lords,
So that it shall seem good that I should lie here,
When my true nature is come to be put to shame,
And as soon as my true name’s name shall appear
To my name is done for ever, so my true love
Will seem to thy lips; and as she hears his sound,
She should see the lust of my tears as I cry,
And then she would have said nothing but his praises:
If thou, my dear lover, have to say something,
Thou art my love.
Thus, in a certain state of grief, I do pause
My grief at the words ‘Lord’ or ‘Lord,’
for in their simple and general nature
Each with his own thought I make an apportion,
The number, shape, size, place of birth, age,
Distinguishing place with my own, with the present state of mind
So that I do not dwell so long
in any one state as mine own,
Or as my own will will in a minute be,
The more will I spend all my time, but this I do not keep
To make a simple argument with one of my own eyes,
Who knows the truth in his mind,
And what he says in his mind by my action,
That my heart may prove right, and what I say true.
By my example I gain by your good grace,
Which is the good of all your help,
That in the sight of every world we look on,
And for that benefit it should be esteemed
With an equal or even greater light.
The fairest light, which is like a kindling fire,
Which by an almighty hand doth light the sun,
And to whose help doth light the moon.
In love, not in love, that beauty of you,
Which to your beauty best thou mightst make mine.
If therefore you have the love of hearts, and your hearts are strong,
And the strong strong have some sense, and those strong have some power,
Which all these strong of all, so I think they must be strong;
And my true love, so that, if thy love be ill,
My love should prove ill, as thy own body,
And that thy own body shall bear of my ill.
Then let all my heart be pure, and let thy love doth shine:
“A child of mine, I will not be,
And in thy womb a boy of mine will grow;
If thou have seen me not with thy heart,
With my soul thy beauty’s light should be doth shine,
To thy beauty in thy heart’s light thy beauty should doth shine.”
‘And when it was a little while,
Some twain of the earth’s grass had a springing
And the tops thereof dusted with honey,
And in them did all flowers bear the fruit.
‘Now my soul,’ quoth she, ’tis full and simple,
And what canst thou give me in this matter?
What more shall I give thee, what more canst thou give me?
That is my love. I desire nothing else than love,
To give your love what it is worth, and thus prove
The love of me and all men, that thy truth be praised,
When thou wilt know that thou dost be praised.
“But what else shall I give thee, and what more canst thou give me?”
“My dear daughter, where art thou?
What else shall I give thee, if thou canst not give me?
My dear daughter, where art thou?
That I am now my best friend, my best friend
Of all, all this is my own, that thou mayst have
That is for me, that thou mayst know
What I can do for thy love.”
‘”So then what of thee didst thou wilt spend time
in thy storehouse?”
“So then what of thee didst thou wilt spend time in thy store,
Thou wilt spend time in thy storehouse, or that you mightst see,
When, with a fearful eye, you see the light of your eyes,
Which through your eyes, and the glass that glitters on,
Is red.
“So what else didst thou waste time in thy storehouse?”
“O! the glass, why so often?
Even now and then are I brought to the shop,
To see this new flower and this new flower
Make a kind of happy heart in your heart.
Yet this didst thou beheld, and this didst thou behold,
That a good-built man might stand in thy sight
With his fair face, and a fair face in his fair
Would show

======== CHECKPOINT 022 OUTPUT # 001 ========

rehensible in him
Was a spirit’s love for thee; and with him
In that he was like him, and there was no need
To hide his shame, nor to swear his hate;
His name was the god’s image, his reputation, his fame, his majesty,
In all that the best of men
Grew so rich, the best of all, that every living one
Could be proud of his worth;
Who for the pride of his glory could boast,
Which they do proudly boast of in the world:
‘Thou art the best in love and wealth,
Thou hast the fairest sight, the fairest eye, the fairest tongue,
The best heart, the best tongue, the best eye,
The best eye that thou hast, shallst not deny it:
If thy sight were like a lamb, thou art the most gracious,
Thou art the king of heaven, thou art the lord of my soul
Since by me thou shalt live for ever,
Love is a virtue, and a gift of death;
And, when thy love dies, thou shalt find my spirit in heaven.
O thou wretched fool! thou have deceived the ears of my world!
What treasure thou hast of mine ear? thou shalt not sell me,
Or put me out of my grace!
Nor, as some say, give me back to thee,
The gift I gave you. Adieu! I must thank thee,
For I owe thee an unending debt of thy good,
And, in spite of thee, the gift is mine;
Thy gift is so priceless, so much so dear,
That I must live with it, and live by it,
For it was so dear, and so lovely,
That when it was gone, I stood still, and then stood
In love, and I was like her,
That by my love I must have her back,
And she herself by her love did make that end,
Her body was mine, her body mine,
And the world was mine, and mine herself
That by love did make that end,
In thy love, so should I be, and you be.
O, that love of mine is still more sweet!
Thy name was this, that I so crave
Thy name so sweet, and mine so sour!
And for love’s sake was I forced
To sell it for love’s sake:
But now that I love you, I should never kill,
Or kill you for my love’s sake;
For love is my self, my self’s self.
‘Look at me, thou poor thing, as if in prison
Some of my prison-bound slaves were slain by the swift hand
Of my lordly mistress.
How cruel, what wrong did he make in my honour?
If thou wouldst love me, I do beguile thee;
Thou, who art my self, in my self-love,
Thou dost my self, in mine self,
In my self, in my self, in my self,
Thou dost my self, in my self, in my self,
Thou dost my self, in my self, in my self,
And then with my self, thou wilt wilt find me,
And thou shalt find me, and that thou shalt know me,
I am not the one to whom thou wilt turn,
Nor is thy self in thy self, nor in thy self,
But in thee there lies an unshackled thief,
Who will not repent of his theft and give thee my back!
‘”And as she wail’d on, she felt the wind coming from the sky;
She saw him, and she saw him fly,
But he did not seem to be dead,
That had he died he would not be dead,
And with that she fell to her knees and fell again;
And as she fell again she fell again,
And again she fell again, and then she fell again,
And again she fell again, and again she fell again,
And again she fell again, and again she fell again;
Then she stood there on the shore, and with a kiss she said,
This is the first time that I have said this:
For I did say, ‘this is the beginning of my verse.’
This is the first time that I have said this:
“Lo, my love, this is the beginning of my verse.”
“Love is love, and love is love, and love is love,
And love is my friend, and my friend is love,
And love is love’s lover, and love’s lover’s lover’s lover’s lover’s lover’s lover’s lover’s lover’s lover’s lover’s lover’s lover’s lover’s lover’s lover’s lover’s lover’s lover’s

======== CHECKPOINT 022 OUTPUT # 002 ========


It was in the middle of that day when she fell,
And when she was gone, that his hand came to rest;
With his arms and legs it was bent,
And on his head it stood,
‘Grim, but blunt and swift;’
And in that he stood the sound;
And in his body was the spirit that would be sworn,
That in that he swore by heaven
Of the blood of his youth, and of that of the world.
‘Then where is my hope?’ quoth he, ‘this world, that this world,
Who on this day I see
Hath made such a world, that they in me
May not dwell in them.’
‘Now I see, my love,
But in him there are many evils,
I can not tell whether their guilt is real or imaginary.
He was gone, and the sun rose again.
His love had been confined to this place;
Nor yet did she think, if it were so, if he would stay.
If this thought be so, this love, this grief shall stay,
It is his true will that I find thee.
‘”When he hath done, this man hath done a very good deed,
He hath laid in me his self-same love,
And by my side his self was mine,
As my self was mine when he gave me his soul.
“Thus when she saw him, she did shake her head;
“Halt, heed, my lord,” quoth she, “be thou not troubled,
For that is what thou wilt gain,
For thy true will in me is true.”
“What,” quoth she, “canst thou not gain?
That in me there is no true will in me,
Even in thy self, it is no true will to me,
To see thy will, to have thy wills in me.
As for the rest, though in them my mind be broken,
And my heart be broken, yet not with these thine,
‘Thou art mine, and nothing else else thou hast.
This sad sight of my true will was,
With a kiss that did seal this love,
For a thousand words and minutes did I lie,
My true love was not to write what it says
On what date it was, nor of what date it was.
Then this poor heart
Upon her chin, in deep thought,
She stares upon his blood-stained hand
And shakes her head, and then shakes his hand again,
“But in me is thy love; and this thou art,
The sweetest and the most glorious of all
That is my soul, and in thee is thy heart.”
Now if this had ever been the heart of any of us,
Then it must be my fault!
“My love, dear friend, is false:
My heart hath false, and my heart hath true.”
‘”I have never made thee excuse,
And when the time comes, all the wrong I did make,
I will not forgive you for that crime.
In this my love hath gone; and yet I love thee,
And to you I am my soul.
And yet this heart of yours is but a man’s heart:
I did this when thou art my love,
And now thy heart hath gone, and yet thou art me.”
“Now it is a little harder to love than to love,
When you know why I did it,
Which I did not do in such a state,
Thy mind is your mind’s mistress, my mistress:
But then what is it to love, when love is not my love?
If the love be mine, then thou art mine.”
-A certain man with him
A certain maiden and an altar
A certain hill,
A certain fair place,
A certain noble mountain,
And a large temple,
Which to the sky did not seem to him,
Th’ power was the thing he thought of,
Which in heaven did make him love.
-Pilgrims, when their time came,
Planting their children in their bosoms;
But, when their time came,
Planting their children in their bosoms’ arms;
Planting their children in their breast’s breast’s breast;
Planting their children in their breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breasts;
Planting their children in their breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s breast’s

======== CHECKPOINT 022 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Tables for that purpose is found in my letter to my late father; whereupon I do commend that I shall not be condemned to a prison, nor to a prison of shame, by your fair-willed and fair-speaking eyes, which I owe to you for their service.

To all my kind thanks I enclose a small hand,
But of you in my name, mine own, is my life:

If ever you look at my name, or see it but in my face,
How can I blame you, that I have made you,
And did you steal what is yours,
With my name is your treasure.

‘My dear friend,’ quoth she, ‘it is you, but not me.’

‘Dear friend,’ quoth she, ‘it is you, but not me.

‘”My friend,” quoth he, “how can I see you so proud,
That at my expense you will be so proud of me,
For being the sweetest of your kind,
What a love-loving thing you must have to bear a name,
That you did not steal the name, but would now
Reassure all your friends that you were true,
And never doting father should be blamed for their eyes.

‘But still I thought thy friend would steal your name,
And so I shall, and will, and shall do this,
And when this time we be rid of each other,
Let us not be so conceited, for our friendship shall grow;
And when this time we be rid of each other,
Then this friendship shall be broken in two:
Then this to my dear friend’s eye
O, how proud my dear friend I am!
To your friend’s eyes are bright red gems in your eye!
If thou shouldst, let mine eyes see,
For love’s sake thou art mine, and mine,
And mine, and mine in thee.
“And yet thou wilt not find, and my spirit shall still live,
The earth I gave you not, and gave thee life:
So long as thou art living in the earth,
Then by me I shall live and die,
I do not live and die, though thou art dead.
“Therefore therefore I, if thou be dead,
Thyself shalt live, and live in my being:
For this is the first, the last, and last,
The one that gives birth to thee: thou art my name,
I will bear it for you all thy life,
Thy name shall survive thee, and be a mark of love.”

This quote was made to him with her ear,
And the ear was dumb; he, not the rest,
Was dumb enough to say, “I love thee.”

‘For him I’ll give thee my will, and I’ll have thee in my life:
I’ll prove your truth, thy truth’s true,
Whose true-takes shall be thy treasure, whose true name you
Who I can see, see thee.
‘For now I tell thy truth, my true will be
Till you see I did not kill you in my will.
‘The thought that some have to think
Upon this kind of folly, I feel the guilt
Of your death.
“Why didst thou dote on me with thy eyes,
Thy tears should not have been so cold that they might have waded;
Why didst thou stain my blood so with thy tears?
And now what are thy thoughts but lust,
Wherefore this thou art, I am a man,
And my thoughts, my thoughts, my thoughts are full of fear.
O, how dost thou blot the light,
And blot the darkness with my eyes?
O, how dost thou blot the fire,
And the heat on thee, and the cold on thy breath?
And what is thy beauty, what art thou mine,
And what is thy self so ill,
That I cannot look upon thee but thou do?
O, what canst thou make thy body look worse?
For that which you bestow,
That make thy nature more dreadful?
For this which you bestow, that make your nature more glorious?
‘This shall be thy law, and I do forbid,
That you do not do this to me,
That will make your life more wretched!
That makes my will more wretched!
Then I will not give you a word, but a knife;
To eat you is a sin, and for your sake will not take;
You must not take any pleasure from me,
And this is my death, my will is your will,
But here I was tempted and did kill,
And this is my blood-breeze, to cure my blood,
My breath

======== CHECKPOINT 022 OUTPUT # 004 ========

stat of a virtuous, virtuous, and even of a bankrupt man:
For if I were to have said, ‘He hath done his duty,’
And every thing but his self should have ended his act.
So being so wise, I am his servant;
When he himself is absent, he needs not know it,
And by his negligence, so much to the fault should he lie,
And this he never makes a false promise,
To him in my good self I am his true friend.
Then I would have thee in my sight, and thou in mine eyes.
In thy nature art a tyrant,
Who in all his glory hath done his will
That all things be subject to his will,
That all the world’s laws obey him,
And all those that keep his will obey him,
That all those things which obey him,
That even those which do obey him,
As kings in that honour are kings,
In this he shows no fear, no love,
No fear of his name being pronounced,
No fear of his oath being sworn;
Nor fear of being disgraced, nor of being buried,
Nor fear of his guilt nor of any injury
To those whom he hath wronged;
Yet in this he shows no love, no fear, no fear;
Nor in this he shows no fear of his offence,
Nor ever will love him again, but never shall.
If thou art ever in need of pardon,
Thy name was first born in my sight;
So thou art the fairest of all in my heart;
Love to thee is thy right; and to me it is thy left.
“The truth is, though not in truth, yet in the heart,
As is plain in the sight, even in thy own,
Thy thoughts are false: they show me, as if in fire;
O, wherefore am I, when thou art in the sight?
O, what is this ill-timed motion?
Thy true thoughts doth so readily appear,
That the night is the fair time to watch me;
That at night I do not find myself night,
When thy eyes make no more motion than thine,
Or when the world’s night is as bright,
Nor with the day nor with my sun,
Will I never see thee? yet at night thou didst not hear me;
But, behold, a bright shadow doth creep in my sight;
What, now that my eyes have seen it,
Thy eye is no longer so wide as it used to be.
Whence didst thou so ill, that thou dost stay,
For thou art in me and not elsewhere,
O do not be deceived, and believe me true,
With thy beauty still in thy breast,
And in my love’s eye thou art yet mine alone,
Which thou dost not see again but as you wish it to be.
Love was an old mistress; therefore hath my will been
To govern you in my favour:
But since thou art my will, do not fear thy love;
And if thy will be altered, then shalt I live with thee,
For it is my will that thou shouldst live.
So it is that, in my will, love is affected,
And if thou dost make love, and desire not to obey,
My will I would not have it, and all these others would live,
I am not afraid of them all.
‘Now for thy will to live thou willst strive
To find it where thou art most alive;
Which is all-tension: so will I this day strive:
And to my will in my heart will my will be lived,
So shall I this night in my heart live;
But no sooner do I weep, nor for love’s sake,
In the sight of my love’s self I will weep,
And all this with my heart the sight of my heart will live.
For if thy will be altered, then thine will live,
And my heart with thee will live.
For with thy will I did find thy will,
With thy heart mine will live.
And though thy will be altered, yet thine will live;
Or thy heart with me my will live;
And yet for thy sake I did find thy heart;
Or thy heart with thee my heart lives;
Or thy heart with me my heart lives;
Or thy heart with me my heart lives;
Or thy heart with me my heart lives;
Or thy heart with me my heart lives;
Or thy heart with me my heart lives;
Or thy heart with me my heart lives;
Or thy heart with me my heart lives;
Or thy heart with me my heart lives;
Or thy heart with me my heart lives;
Or thy heart with me my heart

======== CHECKPOINT 022 OUTPUT # 005 ========

336 and from her back she laid on a golden mantle of pearls,
And as she did so they fell upon her cheek,
Her cheek that gave the light a dark hue,
And now the colour with which she was painted,
With that which she in my heart looks upon
Upon the world which she loves,
But on my heart she looks upon thee,
And she to me is the same thing,
That from him in the world the world did I behold.
“But then did I see that the old man’s pride,
Which was the child of his lusty master,
Were now all doting with his old age;
That a new life might soon be born in her.
‘Now what dost thou find in her that I have no taste,
For there are no other things in thee than thy lusty eyes?
Or how could I find thy shame or shamefulness?
And what would that shame, shame of thy self-declared name,
Have for you I can see but beauty,
And so shall you see nothing more than your own beauty:
But if thou canst still see that which thou havest seen,
I fear it is vain to boast of your own,
That on thy shame so much good will be done:
‘And my father did not, for a love of his children
That his youth should desire more than his father could bear,
In spite of his age, had he been no sooner than
He should have sworn it was mine, and mine as his;
Or his father did have him, for I owed it his;
If he had been no sooner than he should have sworn it,
Or his father had it, his honour would not be so well deserved,
His honour in his fatherly death be as well deserved,
As mine in mine youth have been well deserved.
‘But that is what thou art, and what thou art is
An ornament to the world, or a garment of me.
This is not my art nor is it not mine;
And then do I believe myself such as thy self is,
To love your self for me in thy love.
And now for thy self’s sake did I find
That in thy self all th’ rest were lost,
And now that all th’ rest in thee is restored,
I say the love is lost, the love, that doth remain,
Where there no rest was to remain but in thee,
That thy love that I make thy woe.
And for this did I find
The best which hath beauty, the best which doth belong,
And I will say that it is none other than thine:
If thou art a jewel which I love,
If thou art the best wherein others dote,
if thou art the best where others dote,
Then art thou art thy good, thy beauty’s beauty’s beauty,
And to the end thou shalt not strive with me,
To do it with my death, thy death’s death’s death’s death.
“Now then do I believe that the sun is in the sky,
Or that all men were born in it,
In their lustful youth, that they by their lust were born:
In the lustful youth of their youth were born,
In their youthful youth of their youth were born,
In their youthful youth of their youth were born,
But in my youth did they grow so young,
And now in my youth shall I live long, and yet no longer live,
But I shall live long and live, for nothing will stop me,
No more time will I spend in this world,
More time spent to do a work, more time spent to teach,
More time spent in my life to look, more time spent to see,
More time spent to do a thing, more time spent to do what?
more than I can do.
O how often do I lose my mind;
O how often do I think I have lost my memory;
I think I have lost my soul, my mind’s mind’s mind’s mind;
But what I shall say shall I say,
This will be what I say to thee, this will be what thou willst say,
To say to me ‘Thou shalt not do that which thou wilt not say,
This will not be thy desire, thy delight, thy disgrace,
Thy shame, thy shame’s disgrace, thy shame’s shame;
And that thou wilt not prove this,
This will not be thy desire, thy desire’s desire;
The worst of sin, the worst of your lust,
Thy shameful shame and thy disgrace’s shame;
Thy shame, thy shame’s shame, thy shame’s shame;
thy shame’s shame, thy shame’s shame, thy shame’s shame,
But that thou wilt not

======== CHECKPOINT 023 OUTPUT # 001 ========

isel this for a feast to behold the divine nature, with that which we have not, nor have no taste for, that have no use of our flesh, but can only praise the divine.
And that, having thus made up her mind to give a new life to this young, and now so begetting him, I bid her leave thence.
“Now, my dear queen, I did find some thing to love that I had never seen;
For what beauty, I do not say, though thou art, yet do believe thou mayst find it.
‘But now is not thou to me for art gone,
For I am not all I am,
And am no more than thou art.
The rest is all in vain.
As it is that I have drawn out my sin, so too the night’s flood is gone.
Thy youth is in the flood; the youth that is left with thee,
He that feeds upon the youth that will feed on thee.
And so I love him more than he ever loved me,
He that is full of grace;
And yet I see in him beauty far greater than his is.
‘Therefore,’ quoth she, ‘now is not this, my queen,
Whereon in this dreary time can my true love be,
The world hath gone, and I, his daughter, have fled;
And when that time is past, all is fair;
For now my heart hath begun to love thee,
And now I must go home with some foul desire
To the dark-burning fire, whereon he will make light.
‘O, my darling queen, where is thy heart?
What is she? Who is her heart to love?
Where is the sweet smell of her fresh breath?
Where is the sweet taste of thy blood?
Where is the sweet smell of thy love?
Why should not thy love make thy tears wail,
Till thou dost bear them with all thy heart?
Or what else of thy love, so dear, shall be?
When thou dost suffer the world to make me weep,
And to do nothing, let the world weep in thee.
‘Since thou art such a slave,
And such a fool, to thee this is true,
That, through all mine eyes thou art my sweet self.
“Why didst thou kill the lion, and thou dost kill the leopard?
And for this doth I say no,
No, thou art such a traitor as to destroy this world;
O, why then dost thou make a feast of thy life?
“In the same breath, for a while thou dost fly,
Even though I live, yet yet I die.”
“Thou hast committed such a sin,
That when I was once in hell, my love died,
As if my life, as thy life, were no more;
As if thou wast alive, thy love did stain thee.
And yet now I in my shame have the remembrance
Of thy death, the glory of the world I love.
O! there is a greater death than that which I could have,
And yet that which I am, I will bear no more;
And yet, as for thy sake so much of thy beauty,
That despite of thee that glory so bright,
My own soul may be so bold as to make thee appear,
If the world be like it hath been, so may be my grace.
‘But this,’ quoth she, ‘how couldst thou do this in my love,
How couldst thou not, I beg thee, to say thus:
The world’s fair goddess, and her fair maid,
Have never been, nor are they ever to be,
Thy fair beauty’s self is to blame;
She was created for thee, and thy self for thee.
For thy part did I make you my dear guest
So I could my love be my fair guest,
In her beauty did I make thee my beloved guest;
The world’s fair, and in mine were thy fair guests:
But in mine, you both were created for one,
And each of them thy own design is to look:
That that which you do do make me a welcome guest,
Whereon I, being happy, should be the one to bear
And bear my happy guest’s name with all my grace,
In this life’s happy, and in my merry,
My friend shall survive, mine friend shall bear his name,
And mine friend shall bear mine friend’s name with all my grace,
Though I survive but on his deathless fame.
“O madame,” quoth she, “a kiss of thy tender bosom
Would have me come down from heaven in thy arms,
And be here, on earth’s side, but never to thee.

======== CHECKPOINT 023 OUTPUT # 002 ========

“If not for my mother, I should lose thee, and thou be mine;
My father, by nature’s fault, is no friend,
And therefore, being your father, I owe thee the day
That you shall live, if not for your father.”
His lips were slack in his ear, and with a sigh
They both ran to the door and saw the queen gone,
And there the maid took the knife that he had in his hand.
‘”Well, then, the fool’s tongue,
What a disgrace to my heart that thou hast wrought!
‘My son’s name to thee should not be,
For thy sake do not give this to me,
for my love thou canst not give this.
In that my child-killing folly
When thou art my son, that which my heart forbears,
Whose death’s breath thou wilt kill,
I cannot kill him, nor my death nor your will.
But why, my dear child, I must die,
And, if my heart, which in thee doth me live,
Will kill thy love, my dear daughter, to the night?
For I fear that thou wilt be my love,
And to thee that my life is thy hope,
My love, as thy life doth live,
Thou wilt live for ever, and never die.
‘”But where my love doth live, my dear son,
Who by thy woe hath made thee a god,
And by thy love doth he make a king,
He that by thy woe is made a king,
And, as he doth live, his name is lost,
And no one else ever reigns in his proud name.
‘”And yet I am one with thee in this,
In that I did not lie and did not live,
Or even as thou didst lie in thy bed.
For thou wilt make us guilty, thou willst make us proud
So that our love, like the devil,
Will stain thee with the stain of sin.
That is why I have never found thee with me;
If thou art with me, then my love will not stain thee;
For if thou wilt be my love, then my love is with thee.
“O, now I am one with thee,
As thou dost be; what is thou wilt?
What is thy beauty? what thy pride? what thy wit?
Thy tongue, which in thee doth speak?
And yet, my sweet soul, to thee it breathes,
The sound of the spring of water doth drown it,
And doth drown thee; now where shall I stand?
For what can I say that is true?
What can I say that is false?
‘And if I writ it, I would write it:
What can I say that is false, that thou dost lie?
‘”This is false, and yet thou art guilty of this,
For where was thy grace?
Here lie these poor souls, these wretched slaves?
Here the dead, for ever, lie.
Yet for my sin, my death began,
And for thy sake thou didst live, that I did.
‘Yet thou art my death, but I am thy life,
Thou hast set my life for my self,
And to live, to die, to die again:
Yet all that thou hast to live for me,
Mine death, mine self is dead and mine self still alive.
Yet why, this time that thou art my friend,
As thou didst rob my life of life,
That I would die if I had such a life;
Then will I be my friend, my self, my self, my self,
And die with thee: then will I be thy friend,
For as my self I will live in thee,
And, as thou dost die, thou dost live in thee.
‘And this, my beloved, from this is done;
For my sin, my death began,
And for thy sake thou didst live, that I did.
“If the world, and all the sky,
What wealth can I have, and make it no more?
If thou gav’st what wealth my love,
And what wealth my love my love can make me rich,
Who alone can be my true worth,
Who alone can give me all the advantage?
Who can tell me that I am as worthless as thou art,
And then how rich can I be with all my beauty?
If I am too proud to be so bold,
If not my wealth to live with thy self?
If not my wealth to live with thee,
And yet do I love you so much,

======== CHECKPOINT 023 OUTPUT # 003 ========

lb in every hand;
Who at that time was so full, yet so cold,
As his face bore the weight of his heart,
In all his veins and wrinkles, all over his forehead,
Who did not like to look at the thing,
For the love of his wife was gone,
And by that she gave all the grief of a thousand lives.
So she shepherds through his fields, where they gather their berries,
Sweet and sweet, with sweet and sour fruit they delight,
Which in this store he plucks fresh, in their fresh flowers he gives,
And gives fresh flowers which are his,
As if they had been given to the poor, the rich, and the sick,
But had them died in their place.
‘But my beloved Venus,’ quoth she, ‘you have my heart, and I’ll let it
Spake thou so, since thou art dead; thou shalt not hate
Even my death: and in thine own blood
Even so it will not hate thee!
Even so thou wilt not hate the world which thou so cherish.
The earth with thy hand doth swallow up
The poor and the rich and the sick,
Then, as it had fed the hungry, did this rich beggar swallow up,
And do so, to feed on this hungry world.
‘So to him the wind did do the rain,
And to him the snow did drench him;
Which in his dankness gave him a full heaven,
And a deep-breathed earth that he may behold,
Which in his heart was sweet, full of beauty,
Which in his heart was cold, and cold and cold,
And cold and cold, and cold and cold,
And cold and cold, and cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
But cold, and cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
But cold, and cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
But cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
But cold, and cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
But cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold, and cold,
And cold, and cold, and cold

======== CHECKPOINT 023 OUTPUT # 004 ========


For I do not love to be despised, nor yet to be thought of as bad.
Thy beauty must never wear,
Even so much more that what is dear to me is good.
Yet, when I am praised by my self,
What praise should I receive if I be told that thou
Soufflé’d my good-doing work?
Why should I not thank the favour that I did
And make him rich when he was fairer?
But, behold, this rich man, being poor,
Will, therefore, never have any wealth to pay for it;
And yet, that rich, his rich beauty will lend,
Than, in a purer world, to a world in whom thou shouldst grow.
O my friend, for I have a vow of love!
What will be my fortune when this time
Holds that you shall keep me poor,
I shall not be thy wife, nor thy maid, nor thy child,
And that thou mayst be mine child, and thy self my self:
For that thou art so far from what thou art,
That thou wilt know that I am not thou my self,
That thou art my self in spite, that I am the other,
And, if I be to thee so, let me be thy self,
And thou art thyself not my self,
Or I am not thee, nor thou my self,
Or I am not thou my self, nor thy self,
nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thou my self, nor mine self,
Nor my self, nor my self,
And thou art not my self, nor mine self,
nor mine self, nor mine self,
nor mine self, nor my self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thyself, nor mine self, nor mine self,
And thou art not my self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thyself, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Or thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Or thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Or thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor mine self, nor mine self,
Nor thy self, nor

======== CHECKPOINT 023 OUTPUT # 005 ========

(O, qu’une not mine,
That thou mayst know the day,
Whose purpose it is to prevent.
To the most perfect of love’s eyes it behooves;
To her whose face my love’s eyes behold,
O my love’s eyes, thy eyes are deceiving!
What are these eyes of mine,
That deceiv’d, my heart? how do I make them love
For thee, my dear Love?
If thou shalt love and have no love,
Which so far thou art so much in me,
What is my love, if thou livest, and yet not have
O no love in thy state,
What is thy virtue, if thou live?
What is thy virtue, if thou live?
Love for the sake of my life is best,
And all my beauty for the sake of my life is,
If I do not spend all this time,
Dismiss thee in a summer’s day,
A week’s leave in thy bed,
Three times in a day your eye sees a thing,
And then my love hath lost his sight:
Why dost thou not pity me, my love,
When I will look back on thee?
For the time that thou art not gone is gone,
That time in thy love’s light thou seemest dead.
His face, though still young, was pale,
Like a glass, and his lips were pale,
like a hard hard stone, his hair was blunt,
As if to peel it off, and so in his ear
Th’ hairs the light of the morning’s light.
Then would I say in a verse,
Love’s beauty is more than the beauty of thine eyes,
And I shall say in a verse,
that what beauty doth in thy sight,
Or what beauty doth in thine eye,
O what beauty doth in thine eye,
O what beauty doth in thy eye,
O what beauty doth in thine eye,
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight?
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight?
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight?
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight?
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight?
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight?
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight?
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight?
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight?
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight?
What beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight?
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight?
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight?
O what beauty doth in thy sight?
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight?
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight?
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight?
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight?
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight?
O what beauty doth in thy sight?
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight?
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight?
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight?
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight?
O what beauty doth in thy sight,
O what beauty doth in thy sight?
O what beauty doth in

======== CHECKPOINT 024 OUTPUT # 001 ========


This is the last minute of the night,
In the sweetest spring of a summer
The most unseasonable and unseasonable night
That is, all that doth seem.
So she sits down in the closet,
And I, on my knees with a pillow, stand,
Like a goddess’ bed, to wail for my love.
The wind that winds the fair skies round,
With loud blows and blows from her,
With rain and drench’d daffodils,
And like the clouds themselves they make heaven’s fair,
But yet like this goddess’ night,
Her beauty doth not live up to the sun;
Her beauty doth live, but like the sun it doth live
And doth decay; that is, like the sun, her beauty
Is the decay of her beauty.
For now, for the sake of heaven’s good,
My sorrows are no more but my sins,
But for the sake of the day’s better doth my life,
For in thy sight all my offences be,
And that I be no longer seen,
I know none my fault, neither my shame nor my sorrow.
‘But, like the sun, his eyes
With woeful eyes seem to shine the sun.
O! wherefore dost thou thus,
What sorrow and ill-wisher’s eyes are?
O! what evil eye is this?
What devil’s eye is this?
O! what a child’s eye is this?
O! why are those eyes so fair?
O! what beauty dost thou,
Yet beauty doth boast of her beauty,
Who shows thy beauty, and doth imitate it;
And to his lusty eyes, which are still so fair,
Who doth boast of their beauty,
When in their fair beauty doth he show them so,
And when in their fair beauty doth he dote,
And in the fair beauty dote he dote,
The beauty dote dote dote dote dote,
The beauty dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote dote d

======== CHECKPOINT 024 OUTPUT # 002 ========

cryptocurrencies on the ground, so that he in his desire may obtain more for them from thence.
The truth, that no slave shall be too strong to beguile, yet all to make an end of their own, is a new state for men’s needs.
The best of all breeds, though it live on small parts,
A horse, or a ploughman’s pack,
Or even a horse-horse’ chase,
He that can’t hunt,
Or hunt tamely with a waggon,
Who to him shall owe the possession of his life,
His life, his worth, his fortune, his wealth;
To them it shall depend; and he himself shall make
My debt payment; for what you owe,
You are not mine; you are your own.
‘”But why should I lie with that whom thou wilt not see?
That my death should prove thee self-inflicted,
And my decease thy friend’s honour?
O be kind to thy self: but in the end shall not thy love endure,
For thou art my self, and in thy self thy self is lost.
Thou art that which is not in thy self, thou art my self, and in thy self is lost,
Thou art that which I am that is in mine, and in mine is lost,
That which makes thee my self, and in my self thou art my self,
And in me my self thy self is lost; thou hast become all that is in me,
That I with thy own self am all of mine,
That I am all thy self, that by thy self I shall not be,
But by thyself my self is lost.”
‘Thou canst not look on my self as I did the painter,
That I still art not a painter,
Nor that thou art yet a painter,
That art not my true self, nor my self’s worth;
Nor my self, my self, my self’s worth:
Or thou, if thou art but so, all is so,
That thou art the self, and therefore thou art my self,
And therefore, in me I am my self,
And I myself am my self, and therefore my self is lost.”
“But how?” said Lucrece,
To the thought that in the eyes of men he bears;
In the eyes of men he bears,
To the thought that in him he bears,
To his self he bears, to his self he bears,
To his self he bears, and thus he bears,
And thus, in him he bears, to his self he bears;
And thus, in him he bears, and thus he bears,
‘Wherefore I will teach thee how to know
Why thou dost art thyself so doth this best;
And thou art thyself so dost thyself do
That no part of my love, nor every part of thy worth
Is drenched with thyself; it is drenched with thy self:
Thus, ’tis well, and then it all goes for thee,
That I, my self, I may thy self not be,
For in this that thou art my self, this self thou art in me,
And in me I am drenched with thyself,
And in me I am drenched with thyself;
Therefore in this that thou art my self, this self thou art in me,
That in me I am drenched with thyself,
Therefore in this that thou art my self, this self thou art in me,
That in me I am drenched with thyself, and in me he is drenched.
‘But he stops with a sigh;
He looks at her, and she answers,
He answers again, but her face is still in wonder;
She looks at his face, and her heart is still troubled:
“‘O sad eye! that eye that saw a child that was young!
O tearful eye! that eye that saw his true face!
O cruel eye! that eye that saw that he loved,
That saw him so dumb that thought he did not love:
Yet what a false heart he made,
When he did love a dead man and did see him so,
Yet what a false eye that saw him so did say
That thou was not his son and that thou wast not his child.
‘For now I know thy face, and thy eye is my eye;
No child shall ever have pity in thee,
And in thy heart no sorrow in thee shall grow,
But in mine own mind is my truth, and mine own truth is mine.
‘”For I do what thou wilt,
And I do what thou wilt not,
And thou wilt not act in my absence,
When thou wilt and I do

======== CHECKPOINT 024 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Ishil (Sorrow), and the Tarquin with the Adonis
With great numbers of his own.
Their eyes, for the sake of thee,
As to thee, with thy breath do my heart pause
So often in his wake to behold
Of thee, and in my words are written
A story of the proud queen’s beauty.
O, what a gracious pity! Adonis,
To see the proud Adonis, thou dost not be able,
To see thee, nor to taste thee.
The Tarquin, being told his fair conquest of Troy,
Hath so sweetly praised thee, that thou wouldst take it,
And that it should be thy sovereign right,
That in the best part of his beauty didst not take it,
As that thou shouldst be a tyrant, that thou shouldst govern,
And thy love as a kind of thine, is to love thy self,
Who by thy nature was made to rule;
Yet thou wilt have thy self, and yet not yet thy self.
But, like a lion that doth trot to the ground,
And the tiger with his head spread,
To chase the lion by the tail,
By all his cunning and boldness, to ravish the ground:
The Tarquin by his deeds gave his foe a fair vantage.
“Now, Adonis, if you can, help me;
To make the old man’s mind obey thee;
Make my poor self the object of your desire;
That I might prove mine own self true,
So that he that doth rob thee may not rob thee again;
This will be my love, but thou shalt bear my slander.
And now he begins,
To boast that his son, as strong-built as a horse,
Shows no true beauty of his own:
He, when he thinks, and perceives
Not true-seeing grace or beauty in his self,
That for him beauty, being, like nature,
Must have beauty-distinguishing beauty,
When beauty alone should stain, or be white;
Yet his false pride is still greater,
Which doth excuse the greater part of the good:
Since the fair queen of Troy doth mock,
And then doth pity her beauty;
And yet doth pity both beauty and beauty alone:
If beauty doth have beauty, then beauty doth live,
And therefore beauty doth live, and beauty doth live,
For beauty doth live, and beauty doth live,
Yet beauty doth live, and beauty doth live,
Because beauty doth live, and beauty doth live,
But beauty doth live, and beauty doth live,
For beauty doth live, and beauty doth live,
Because beauty doth live, and beauty doth live,
Therefore beauty doth live, and beauty doth live,
And therefore beauty doth live, and beauty doth live.
So to this she says the word doth be made known,
to this I say ‘O Love! this thou art.’
If thou be, that thou wilt be, my life, my death,
This is my death, not my death, and this thou shalt die,
Then that thou art alive mayst live as a god,
For thou shalt live with me, and death with me,
I will die and I will live, and thou shalt live,
Thou art not a god, thou art not a son,
Thou art a god, thou art not a son,
Thou art not a son, thou art not a son,
O kill, kill, kill, kill, kill!
O kill, kill, kill, kill!
O kill, kill, kill, kill!
Kill, kill, kill, kill!
But if thou art dead, thou art dead,
Thy life, thy life, thy life, thy life, thy life,
Thy life doth live and thine, thy life doth live,
Thy life doth live, thy life doth live, thy life doth live,
And all these lives doth live together;
But if thou art dead, thy life, thy life doth live,
And all these lives doth live together;
But if thou art dead, thy life doth live,
And all these lives doth live together;
But if thou art dead, thy life doth live,
And all these lives doth live together;
And all these lives doth live together;
But if thou art dead, thy life, thy life doth live,
And all these lives doth live together;
Thy life doth live, thy life doth live, thy life doth live,
And all these lives doth live together;

======== CHECKPOINT 024 OUTPUT # 004 ========

irt to the world of good.”
-Thy self, that is called thee, the living,
O to thy self, to thy self, that thou art,
Which in thee gives life and immortality to the dead;
And in thy self gave immortality unto the living;
And in thy self gave immortality to the dead.
Then they that live for a little, let them be made free;
And when they have begun to die for a little,
Be thou a good man, thou be my friend.
‘Twixt two or three battalions they lay,
The ranks of men are still together,
Sometime a prisoner sleeps, and a lover lives.
But then let us, when thou art so,
With thy true love, thy true love to me,
And my true love, to thee and me,
Thou mustst be my mistress, my love to me is
So to thy true love is thy love, so to thy true love
Thou art my love, and I the true love of thee.
As thou art so, so to thine own self
Mine own, my love mine own,
And thy own, mine own, to mine own,
So is thy love in me, my love in thee;
Then is thy love in me true, my love in thee false.
‘But all these are lies, in truth none,
No one knows what to do, and none knows what to do,
Nor for that one alone may be told.
‘Therefore may it seem, for I am with thee
To die for thy sake, as you were when thou hast begun,
Thine to die for my sake, and all of you for me.
So are you, I with thee, with me all.
‘Let there be no sorrow and sorrow-killing,
All that is pleasing is beauty and good,
And if there be a sad thought I’ll never see it
Since my heart and my soul do strive to kiss thee,
And I must say that thou art as happy to me as to thee,
As thou art to my face; as thou art to my heart;
This is my life, and I am happy in it.
-‘O my dear friends!
For thou art thy love and my heart’s purpose!
But then why weep for love’s sake?
Why weep for joy’s sake?
How didst thou think of them but as a fool
Who didst strive to kiss me,
For love’s sake do they not hate me?
‘O poor fool, how can I think of thee
If thy heart were as angry as thou art;
My heart, too, is as mad at thee.
‘O then it is true, that thou art my love,
And the more true to me am I,
Then the greater number is mine in love;
Then thy love to me is greater than mine,
Than all the more false, and all the worse is my friend,
For that thou art my love is no more my friend.
‘But thou art mine,’ quoth she, ‘though I live, yet thou art mine,
To see how often thou art gone away,
And how seldom thou come and never return again,
When by thy love I shall spend the night
Making thy good excuse of this wrong.
‘But now I do look for you, and I do look for thee,
And now I do see you, and I do see thee,
So the more is my love and the more of thy worth
For thou shalt be the cause of my decease,
That thou art all-good, all-loving, all-loving, all-loving,
Even to one who loves one of me shall die.
Thus I would tell them, as they were,
That the most great men were all-blessed, and yet all-blessed
I have the worst. I shall not be proud of my beauty,
Nor weep with myself about your love.
‘O, where I once found thee,
Where I once saw thy face,
Where I once saw thee, and now behold this wretched creature,
My eyes are so wide as unto a glass,
That they cannot see well the shape or shape of thee,
Or the form of your beauty, thy beauty’s beauty’s form,
Or the shape or form of thy self, thy self’s beauty’s form,
O my friend, if my eye were not so wide,
I will find out that beauty was not all,
That your form is your beauty,
And the beauty of that form is thy beauty.’
She looks on him, and with a loud moan she
Whilst she is gone, with trembling arms she holds his head,
And she by that will kiss his cheek,
And on him she will

======== CHECKPOINT 024 OUTPUT # 005 ========

approximately, and the world would weep.
For that she would prove more than thou have,
And in that she would prove less than thou art,
Her fame in thine eye might have thee the better,
And thou art, in thy self’s eye, far more excellent.
For yet thy love, thy love-all-perfect love,
Sick-striking the universe’s heat, doth thy love live,
Which in thee so did it burn,
And in thy fire in thy fiery rage do burn.
Thou shalt not let this thy love drown
Whereon it is found to be thy flame’s heat,
Then let not this hate drown out the world’s heat.
What an honour you make to me, what a sweet-pleasing deed I give
To hear that I may be the first to give you this,
And in your best-favour’d deeds to live this!
That you may know what I can do for your help,
But for this is nothing worth.
What is it that you cannot do for me?
What is it that you can’t help me?
How can I help you? (For I fear death)
O have I been thy husband’s debtor in a thousand ways,
Yet you will pay them not with what they say,
That you will be his slaves, and he will beguile his maid.
If you like, I have told my story
To you by that sweet girl who gave me this book.
Her name is Adonis, and in her bosom
Himself was slain; and he was buried in hell,
For the loss of one man she lost by his lust.
‘Now when she says ‘I have sworn’
“O yes,” quoth she, “it will prove true;
In that case thou art mine.”
‘Thou art mine, and it was all my will;
Yet for this I did swear to love thee,
But thou wast so good as to stain the grave.
‘Since all the world’s eyes have seen my love,
How many have he seen mine with eye-seeing eyes;
And many by this, yet not one to see
The true beauty of thy beauty.
‘But where are these bright eyes of heaven’
Which, to thy eyes, do thee so love me?
If I have eyes that see thee in the sun,
And no eyes, but my heart, all eyes, my heart, my heart,
My heart’s eye, which with thee dost fly,
My heart’s eye to thee doth fly;
As many times in my heart, for I desire,
Yet as few, I cannot give:
My heart that was so loved to love me,
Is not so beloved to me,
Therefore, thou art my self, and therefore I love thee,
That makes love so great, and so sweet.
‘To whom’ I have been for you many a friend,
Which all together gave me the grace of love,
To whom I have kept my heart as pure as water,
To whom I have held dear in my body so pure,
And yet with all of you as my self I am,
And yet I with your heart am both your heart and me.
Whence should I begin to speak to thee?
Or else should I say, ‘You have not taught me to know thyself’?
“No,” quoth she, “I have not yet understood thee,
For thou hast not taught me to know thyself;
but what hath I in thee, and thou in me?
To whom I have said ‘you’ I have seen you in my eyes;
How didst thou see my face when I was with thee?
Why dost thou now ask why I did tell thee?
Why didst thou make thy heart the fairest,
And then the knife’s edge should slay all beauty’s beauty?
For thou art no beauty’s child,
And therefore I did steal thy heart,
To rob thee of all your self.
“What is it,” quoth she, “that thou shouldst kill me?”
“Thou shalt not kill me!
Whose love was thine own; but what is it,
That hath put thee before such an act?
Who, with thy self’s help shouldst thou manage it,
For thou art the best I have ever met,
Who alone thou mayst prove.
‘This,’ quoth she, “I will tell thee my self.”
Thou shalt not be thyself to live in this world,
This thou shalt not be mine own self,
To whom no man can blame me:
O, what grief should I in thee,
That no one should make this my revenge?
Since mine own self hath spent life in thy revenge,

======== CHECKPOINT 025 OUTPUT # 001 ========


But his eyes so far gone,

My love’s eyes and mine eyes so far gone;
For that is but one of mine,
That he should, or to whom he would.
If he did, my soul being mine,
Had to live, being my love,
And my love to live with thee,
And I to thee, in thee
Are as one with thee and with me,
O to-morrow to-morrow to-morrow,
If thou art gone for ever,
The next, I will not go so far
For fear of thy love’s coming,
That thou art my friend and friend in me.
So far as they say, thou dost live,
And not from this night I am not to dwell,
for love hath no purpose to me.
That is my reason for this;
That’s my reason I shall kill for this,
The more, if ever my love were to die.
‘Love’s sake he doth live, and it is by him
That he doth live that I shall die,
And if not, he that doth live live
The longer lives, and live the longer lives.
‘As to her that thou lov’st so far,
My heart will be troubled and she may be,
Though love be with her, not with her.
He knows his love, and his love lies;
Then love, thou most holy god of love,
Let her weep for me, and let her weep for thee;
Her heart shall find her, and if she do find her,
For love, that may live, it will not live;
Nor let it live on a barren ground,
For that is all I ask, it is me that ask
To stay thee that needs my care.”
‘I’ll give thee another, but no more,
If thou dost take this vow, thou wilt forfeit mine,
My dear love, I’ll take your heart
And if thou canst not bear it,
Then I will slay you again and thou shalt live
When I have lived, and lived and lived again,
And I have no sorrow, and none sorrow,
Or more than my life in thee doth lie,
Till thou livest, and live still, and live still,
In the time that thou dost live, and live still,
For thou dost live, and dost live still,
And die by my self, and die by mine.
So do the days I have with thee,
That I in thee, with thee in me live.
“My poor boy, I’ll not let thee hang;
My wretched boy, I’ll not let thee stay:
And then I will not let thee hang,
For my life depends upon this: then I say,
I’ll give thee my time.
‘Since thou didst live, thou have done it wrong;
Since thou didst die, thou have done it right;
And if thou didst live, thou have done it well.
‘Since thou didst live, thou have done it better,
I’ll be damned by that damned creature,
for the night that I am tied to thee shall be wasted.
My love, as thou wilt, my heart will love thee,
My heart’s love shall burn thee,
My heart’s love shall burn you, my heart’s love shall destroy thee:
My heart’s love shall burn thee, my heart’s love shall burn thee,
And so on I shall live, and live still,
And I have not all, but thou art my life,
And I am, and I will not die,
For the greater part of all thy love’s rest shall remain,
Then from the fireless night I fly,
I beheld thee, but as you are,
The night when thou art thou cannot stay.
‘But I love thee so, my love makes me happy,
And for the greater part of thy pleasure I stay:
&#82#8220;Thou canst not see the sky, neither canst thou know,
Nor that the world can bear thee here,
When thou art thy own being in me,
But all that is, and all my love,
All my worth in thee, and all that is,
O then I will never die.”
‘Thou canst not see me, and yet I am alive,
In thee, thou canst not know,
But then I will never die,
Even then I will not die;
I will never die, and yet there is not life,
And no beauty in thee, no beauty in me,
No beauty in thee, no beauty in me:
But thou, this, that must have been,
In thee this is not what thou art,
And all my beauty is nothing but your

======== CHECKPOINT 025 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Grey, with the handmaids’ eyes; and now with the tenderness of his body, with the grace of heaven’s eye she doth say,
“‘What of that which you have not, nor did not intend, nor did not want?
Thy love did give this to me, and so it shall be,
That my heart may have the means to live,
And if this be not true then I can never be dead.”
But love is not death but love is not loss,
Which gives thee such a right to lie,
that you seem to be dead,
And then die, and then you were not dead;
That which thou hast not, thou wilt never die,
And as a friend thou must know how to kiss me,
And then all my woes are due, my grief is my comfort,
For that thou have not, thou must die,
So I, when I am gone, in sorrow’s shadow,
Than with thee I live, and thou hast not left.”
‘That,’ quoth she, ‘this time thou art gone;
But there thou art, and this hour in that thou art gone
Is not as good a time as the past:
And though thou live, still thou art not dead.
‘Since all this I do, thou hast made thy bed,
That to die with me, thou mayst still live.
And yet thou art dead, in me thou live,
And yet thou live, in me thou die,
For ever, and ever, and ever, I will not be dead.”
‘”Then why hast I gone?” quoth she; “since thou livest, I have to live again.”
‘Then what excuse is there for aught else
Which thou hast not given me,
Nor my being of a kind, to have you told
The sad truth that the world had seen;
The sad truth that my life was so short?
This false excuse is all mine;
The good excuse is mine, which is my reason;
And then I am gone, and this world is dead,
O, how can my love survive in me?
And therefore shall she be, and this world be dead,
Who will not kill thee in my love,
And still the world being dead, shall live?
This is the end of all which this world did bring.
‘O, how canst thou live in the sight of death,
When thou art so sick that no sin doth live?
O, how canst thou live where there is no sin?
Thou art thus so sick, that thy self doth lose itself:
Whilst the sickly part of thee that do survive die,
Who is the more sickly part to live in,
When so many die before thee?
O, what kind of suffering dost thou make?
What kind of pain dost thou inflict?
What kind of pleasure dost thou have in your being?
For I was the cause that made that life so dreadful
Threw on thy self my own being.
And thus, in my heart, from him rose Lucrece,
And from Lucrece Lucrece his maid,
And, from their love, from her Lucrece they fell.
‘For in my heart,’ quoth she, ‘this is my love;
Love makes me strong, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak;
And therefore I love myself; and I do not blame
My dear friend for this, either he have not,
Or if he had, he is dead, and I live again.’
‘And yet I do not blame thee, for I did not lie;
This is the beauty of thy self, my being,
That in me is thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty, thy beauty,

======== CHECKPOINT 025 OUTPUT # 003 ========

CN for the benefit of others.
‘Now, ’tis fair to say, thou shalt not steal,
The flower that in thy back thou mayst reap;
And to thy benefit the flower’s self it yields:
That this sweet flower hath not to do thy work,
But to the best of others, it may do thy love
Like some flower that is not of thy own,
In thy favour with others, and with thee with them.
Now ’tis a disgrace to have thy sweet flower
Which in the world you have sought in my image,
Since to your self you did not possess
A greater advantage than I do with you,
That, from what you in me were all made,
And what you in me I have made all this,
For thy best, and from me to your best,
And to me to your best I am all your gain.
If I should lose, then my life would not be such
As you now boast.
‘Tis no time to let thee look on
For your glory, your own honour;
Till you can see what makes you live,
And if that be true you must be dead.
-The following verses are made for him
Of his friend’s death, whereupon they all weep.
The painter, in this image that he had,
Shook him up by the hand, and with one hand he bound
his arms, and, as if he were to be
a prisoner of the Roman law, took hold of his other
hand and tied it to his foot,
And on his back she stood, and stood,
Tenderly staring, yet trembling, fearing his will.
‘O!’ quoth he, ‘these two, that hath been,
With whom I had a passion for each other’s sake,
Sometime of my life I was told that thou didst kill,
So I in some way must be reconciled,
To thy honour that thy death be
With me not be the cause of death,
The fact is, thou wast the thief!
thou wast a thief, and my heart was thy thief,
Thy heart my heart to make thyself more poor;
And, to make my heart like thee so,
For thy heart as mine gave me,
To make my heart as mine gave to make him so,
And in thine own heart gave his heart more poor.
‘But let me be bold in this, and show thee what I mean
Thy own heart and thy own heart,
Both to steal and kill thee: not for thyself I will do,
but for thy self that my self is free,
And I will not steal from thee my self’s stealing,
Thy self that stole thy self’s life,
Thy self that stole thy self’s life,
And thy self that thou gave’st my self thy life.
If thou dost steal from me, thou dost steal from me.
As thy self hath stolen my life, so shall mine be.
So my self hath taught thee how to take,
And I thee have taught thee how to take,
And mine that mine own body did give,
Both mine own life, and mine own life,
Each of thee to be born a son,
Which, like a dove, is by nature quite dead.
‘Now, how can it be, then, that I am so dead?
Why should I live if in thee I die,
In thee? why should I live if in thee I live?
When this you write to say that I am dead,
That it is this fault of mine,
That it may seem to thee to leave me there.
For the reason why you write to say that I am dead,
That it may seem to thee to leave me there.
And I thee, thy self, to live that thou mayst live.
To live this day that thou mayst live,
And to live this life for ever,
If thou lov’st not by, by whom thou dost live,
And why dost thou live the deathless?
For that death which thou dost dost live is thy self:
And that which thy self doth live is thy self,
If thou dost live to live to live, then thy self doth live.
-Since thou art, now I fear not thy presence.
-Since thou art, now I fear not thy presence.
-Since thou art, now I fear not thy presence.
-Since thou art, now I fear not thy presence.
-Since thou art, now I fear not thy presence.
-Since thou art, now I fear not thy presence.
-Since thou art, now I fear not thy presence.
-Since thou art, now I fear not thy presence.
-Since thou

======== CHECKPOINT 025 OUTPUT # 004 ========

quickly of a smile.
The night began,
Thir brows all wailing with grief;
And his cheeks all writhing,
Showing his face, as if he was crying aloud.
Her eyes that had seen her,
Her cheeks that had seen her,
Her lips that have seen her,
The pale, the dead, all pale,
Her brows all writhing,
Her cheeks all wailing with grief;
“The night,” quoth she, “I am sick,
And yet this is true, that every part of me,
Of every feeling, each part of me,
To this sick night I do pray,
And then I will say with joy that you have died,
That you were my child, and now you alone are gone.
‘Thy name is Tarquin, thou mak’st me to believe;
Then this verse sums up my woes,
I will not let thy sorrow affect my grief,
If it might, nor even thy heart would allow it.
The young woman that once she was,
With wrinkles in her cheeks, and cheeks in wrinkles:
Thy gentle nurse was once so dear
Her gentle friend now is deceased.
‘But I love him more than I did with thee.
Thy true love is so dear to me,
And I may not so strongly, as before,
That I cannot love thee more than you did with me.
‘My loving son,’ quoth she, “is mine but true;
O therefore I love you but for what I love thee;
That if I did love you, you would be dead.”
For what I did love you did by your side,
Was done by your love as well as your love did;
For then, too often, my love did betray.
‘Thus did I do my will to make thee repent;
Yet when I would have made thee repent again,
Thy will I for a thousand things that I do swear.
For though thy will to be your will be not,
And thy will to be your will be not,
So now thy will be my will be a thousand things that I’ll not:
‘Then my will is but a certain thing,
Which I, your sweet-saint, shall be your husband,
For this I love thy love as thy will is love,
My will to be your will be your will,
My will is your will to be my will,
Thy will my will be your will, mine will is mine,
And mine is thy will to be my will.
Thy will in mine is mine my will,
Thy will in mine is yours mine, thy will in mine be,
Thy will in mine is yours mine mine, mine is mine,
Mine in mine is yours mine yours mine, mine is mine mine,
Thy will in mine is yours my will, mine is mine mine mine,
Thy will in mine is mine mine mine, mine is mine mine,
Thy will in mine is mine my will, mine is mine mine mine,
Mine in mine is mine mine mine mine, mine is mine mine mine,
Mine in mine is mine mine mine mine, mine is mine mine mine,
Mine in mine is mine mine mine mine, mine in mine,
My will in mine is mine mine mine, mine in mine,
Thy will in mine is mine mine mine, mine is mine mine mine,
Mine in mine is mine mine mine, mine is mine mine mine,
Mine in mine is mine mine mine, mine is mine mine mine.
And I in thy will I shall show thee how,
My will be thy will, thy will be thy will,
Thy will is thy will, thy will be thy will,
Thy will in thy will I shall show thee how,
My will be thy will, thy will be thy will.
My will in thy will I shall show thee how,
My will be thy will, thy will be thy will.
My will be thy will, thy will be thy will.
my will be thy will, my will be thy will.
My will be thy will, my will be thy will.
My will be thy will, my will be thy will.
my will be thy will, my will be thy will.
And now thou shalt write, my will shall be my will.
And now thou shalt write, my will shall be thy will.
And now thou shalt write, my will be thy will.
So shall I write, my will be thy will,
And now thou shalt write, my will be thy will.
This verse gives some sense of my state,
But the fact of this fact,
Is in the subject, and the subject,
In the effect, and the effect,

======== CHECKPOINT 025 OUTPUT # 005 ========

breathing not to fear;
But as the dead breathe the life dead
The breath still in him still lives and breathes again,
And sighs in his heart, “Lord of my heart!”
So is this night to me so pure,
That as the dying light clears her face,
As if she had slept, still the blood had gone.
‘O what an hour, and time,
What an occasion, how long had I been away!
Then in all haste, in thy absence
She leaps, and, lo! the sky is in a deep groan,
And the air with the thinning waves,
Like to the sea doth the earth move,
Making it seem like the sun is going up.
And as she steps on this hill she says,
‘”I love her more than I love mine,”
And it seems I’ll do as she says,
And not as I shall nor never be,
But thou art what I should be,
And not what thou is.
She thinks of him fondly, of their meeting,
And he looks at her, like a fool;
To make the picture seem more pleasing,
That to the eye’s fancy she might make it more fair;
She thinks, with her tears she cries,
And by this she says she is proud of him,
When it seems so fair, and so dear,
That so she is the only one with him;
She cries and, with her sighs, so too often
She exclaims that she hears her dear self,
The sad cry of a sad soul,
She looks on him, and he laughs in her cheek,
And she thinks this sad sigh must be so,
that the old woman is no more,
Nor ever shall be, and thou shalt not live again.
Thus he bids her stay; yet she holds on,
That no one may be so cruel to her,
that her spite, all his lies,
As though her heart were so true,
That she must be put to death in hell,
In hell’s eyes she looks on that which looks in her face,
And it is like some kind of blot,
Against this bright sky of love he shines,
And at his eye all his grace and grace’s stain,
He bids her stay, and as he sits she bids him stay,
Yet she is like a woman in that state
That thou knowest her true name, but then,
Like a man’s soul to his self, she still lives.
This is thy story of thy self’s love,
That ever in my life have I not felt,
I have not been the same to thee,
Since thou hast done so to that whose love thy heart,
For thy love so sweetly doth sing:
When I have done so to him, I still live
In the time that thou love’s sweet name lends
To mine, and then to my own self’s sweet name,
For I have not felt so to you, I have not felt so to me,
That thou art my self, and I am the same.
“This is thy tale of thy self’s love,
Which I, as one living creature, do write,
To assure thee this I never did love thee,
O thou that dost steal away my beauty,
To love me like a thief, and steal back again,
With thieves a sweet instrument; but this, I have done,
That thou mayst be thy self,
and therefore shall never be mine again:
And as the night doth leave his face, so doth his mind
Have this thing done, I am yours;
When this was done, all thy beauty doth cease:
Yet all my beauty doth cease, and my life doth cease.
Love, love! I love thee, I love thee,
And it is mine that makes me so angry!
Love! thy self, I love thee,
And myself, love, thou art my self!
And in this, all this and this,
In each other’s power, love doth give me life:
Love, thou art my self, and I am thee!
Love, love! thou art my self, and I am thee!
Love, thou art my self, and I am thee!
And all this, all these, and all this,
That love doth in me give me the most,
And I love the most; and all this I love,
And all this, all this, my love doth give me the least.
So do I in love; and in thee is there my love,
To love with that which I have not yet beguiled;
So do I in love; and in thee is there mine love,
And in me is there my love,
And in

======== CHECKPOINT 026 OUTPUT # 001 ========

“I am thou my friend, and yet
Forsooth thou hast forsaken my beloved wife;
In me thou gav’st so many hearts,
And yet thou didst love me so dearly,
And by thy love had done me wrong;
“Poor man, if my heart were such a fool,
That by my blood did my love make a fool,
For this I have done you wrong in my deed,
For my love gave him away from me,
And thus I have made thee so my love.
For that is what we all call a good deed:
that, if thou art such a good,
My love, as to thee,
Be thy good self, and I shall live,
When the time comes to make thee dead,
And, like a coward, to die in this state;
What part then did the Roman Lucrece play?
Were that his skill he should show,
But in the Roman Lucrece’s own case
As we do with him; and therefore we see,
The Roman Lucrece is an actor in his
Hearing; his words being well understood;
His brow is as sharp as steel,
and when the glass doth light him he stares;
But when he hears, his eyes do not fear;
Nor in his own heart do they fear him,
For they saw his thoughts; and when they saw him,
His thoughts did fear him.”
O what was it that I in thy power
Wishing thou couldst change it,
Or wouldst change it by my power?
Yet in me thou gav’st so many hearts,
That every part of my being
Began to change, and did change every part;
That all things were change’d in me,
That all things were mine and my own,
Yet each new thing in me, did change it by thy grace,
Of every thing my being, every part was mine,
But each new thing did change it by thy grace,
Each new thing, did change it by thee,
To every part I in you,
Made that thy will to be done was made,
Since thou art, and thou art not,
For that is what we all call a good deed:
That, in this, the Roman Lucrece did make,
Till every part of myself gave thee my heart,
that thou that I gave unto thee gave me my soul,
So now, all things that my body give thee belong,
As all my soul that I love giveth thee my heart,
And all my body that thou hast lent to me,
All that to me I have lent,
That to my heart thy gift is so great
That, in that which thou hast lent,
All my self that I possess,
As thine I owe my self, all this to my heart,
And all this to my heart, that thou my self,
Can hold a thought of me,
So much so that it is a sad thought,
to behold my face doth Tarquin think;
And this sorrow makes him wail in the hall;
His sad breath is so heavy on the ground
That he almost shakes his head, and then falls to the ground;
then he is gone, and not again,
But like a man gone, and in that he did
go, and in that he did not leave;
Then, as the ocean’s current was up in his bail,
And like the river in the stream did spill forth,
The sun and moon, each with their own gills,
Which by their own gills had been purified,
Which from each of them had sprung up fresh water:
But in thee, I do not yet know
Which of those new objects gave light to his eyes.
What beauty had he in his cheeks so black
As his lips to be stained with blood?
What beauty had he in his cheeks so pale?
What beauty had he in his cheeks so rich in lust
That no breath in his cheeks should breath so sweet?
And yet, he in his cheeks still did breath;
His cheeks, which were pure, yet his cheeks were bloodless;
His cheeks, which were pure, yet his cheeks were dead,
And yet his cheeks were alive; but his cheeks were dead,
And yet his cheeks were alive; but his cheeks were dead,
To kill him, and kill him again.
But in him, like a strong-armed gazelle,
Thou that rulest the world with all thy strength,
And all thy strength thou dost imprison me in prison;
To me I am dead, and in thee I am alive,
Like unto a sickly infant,
Or like a weak-bonded man,
Or like a morn, or like a

======== CHECKPOINT 026 OUTPUT # 002 ========

flares, which are in their place.
So she cries in a soft murmur,
And throws up her left hand;
And, to my relief, throws it up again,
The bloody spring that had begun to water,
With more than it could bear;
As if it did water, that did bear,
Like a glass which can break, to make it stand;
And I, in love, can do nothing but kiss the glass,
So much better than the painter had done;
I, therefore, by his skill set
Laund’st with my glass, so he should remove;
Then, beholding some dove, like a dove,
Lifting his head, his chin;
O, be not so kind; for you are iniquitous!
For beauty doth love to thee not love;
The true flower hath been made clear:
But, being so sweet, let no flower be so ugly.
As for thee, be wise; for my heart hath been forged,
I am the cause of my love’s decease;
My soul my love’s treasure, and mine eye my love hath lost.
O, this ill-advised thing! the world was a foul device,
Which, with the hand of a wicked lord,
Orator, or other villain,
Would do that which the heart of a man would not permit;
Thus hath my being created altered,
That by nature’s invention I can no more speak.
So it was in the morning; so now I die.
Thus my heart, my heart, my heart,
For that I might not die till my eyes would be blinded;
So my soul must die to a more perfect end,
To find love, love that doth not dwell,
To be in love with my self in death,
Love that is not in love is not in love:
This, therefore, is my heart the heart of a fool,
And by this false-love I am lost in love,
To find love in my own parts, and in them all:
That is why I should kill myself, in this way.
“Now, then, O beauty, look again
The sad face of a beggar, whose heart is so high,
And what is the better thing than being naked?
In that state of being, is there nothing but sorrow
To make me forget the fair face that so aptly bears;
In that state of being, that poor face that in all others wears?
In that state, what is there that would stop me?
Or do I want not to be in love with myself,
And I am not in love with thee?
To be thou, I should love thee better than thou were.
Thou art not in love with me, but to thee,
And when thou knowest, so art thou love’s slave!
‘O that thou art dead!—”But what do you mean by that?”
“So far as I am old, that thou art old,
My self, my self, my self, my self;
For love, my self, my self, my self, my self!
“But that my self may not die,
O that my self may not be my self,
Even so in the death of a true love,
My self shall live, my self, my self shall live,
And my self, my self shall live, my self shall live.”
“But that my self may not die,
O that my self may not die,
Nor that my self may not be my self,
Nor that my self may not be my self,
Nor that my self may not be my self,
Nor that my self may not be my self,
Nor that my self may not be my self,
Nor that my self may not be my self,
Nor that my self may not be my self,
Nor that my self may not be my self,
Nor that my self may not be my self,
Nor that my self may not be my self,
Nor that my self may not be my self,
Nor that my self may not be my self,
Nor that my self may not be my self,
Nor that my self may not be my self,
Nor that my self may not be my self,
Nor that my self may not be my self,
Nor that my self may not be my self,
Nor that my self may not be my self,
Nor that my self may not be my self,
Nor that my self may not be my self,
Nor that my self may not be my self,
Nor that my self may not be my self,
Nor that my self may not be my self,
Nor that my self may not be my self,
Nor that my self may not be my self,

======== CHECKPOINT 026 OUTPUT # 003 ========

service or that of another: thou mak my love strong and sweet
And let that one doth dwell with thee more.
Yet in my love are thy light but of white,
The fairest of fairs, and thy purest,
For love’s sake may be seen in thy sweet flesh,
And love’s sweetness in love’s sweetness,
For beauty in love’s beauty, is my pity.
For love, my love, in thee do I call
Toughness in thy sweet beauty, for me thou art gentle,
That by my loving hand dost help me do good
To keep thee in my sorrowful place.
‘’Tis true, for he that lies still shall see
Those poor birds that feed on me, and then the night
Are sung in my name that their plumage
Doth look on in my heart, but in thee none
Sets forth his white feathers, nor their plumage
Shall catch the light nor blot him with light;
The pale moon and heaven, his shadow, the west
Are his red and his white; now to their light
he shines with his fair sun, and then his west
O’er their face is seen with the naked eye:
‘Yet did I not look on those bright spots with a mind,
As to my love and to my fair love’s sake,
When beauty’s true love, not true beauty’s true love,
Doth make them see but from their eyes; yet my love to thee
I cannot see what they behold, nor what they hear,
For mine eyes have the picture of thy self,
And therefore have I not no power to know it but by thy self.
So my love should have his majesty;
My love is his pride, my pride his pride:
My love’s pride, mine pride, his pride’s pride;
His pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
His pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride:
Mine pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride:
His pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride:
His pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride:
My pride’s pride, mine pride’s pride, mine pride’s pride:
Mine pride’s pride, mine pride’s pride, mine pride’s pride:
Mine pride’s pride, mine pride’s pride, mine pride’s pride:
His pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride:
His pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride:
My pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
His pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride:
His pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride:
His pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
His pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride:
His pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
My pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
Mine pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride:
Mine pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
My pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
My pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
Mine pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
My pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
My pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
His pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
His pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
My pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
His pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
My pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
His pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
My pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
My pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
My pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
My pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
My pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
My pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
My pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
My pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
His pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
His pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
His pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
His pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
His pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
My pride’s pride, mine pride, mine pride’s pride;
My pride’s pride, mine pride

======== CHECKPOINT 026 OUTPUT # 004 ========


His pride in himself

Proudly in him lies a more precious part
Of love’s precious treasure
To cherish him that loves himself,
And love his worth for his own sake.
But in her Lucrece’s verse,
She says, “By him my love doth not die.”
“This time he shall be dead, my love thy sweet love;
For that time thy sweetest time shall not be,
My sweetest time, and thy most precious time shall be,
When my love is in mortal love,
And therefore of your mortal time I would die.”
‘O that thought, and the thought with thy verse,
That thou, my sweet and most precious love, am to die,
What didst thou think’st I to die in thee?
‘”And for my sake have I done that which thou hast done:
Thou art my love, my love, my love, my love, my love, my love, my love,
The reason I did, the reason thou didst do,
This in thee, the reason thou didst do,
Thou hast committed this sin: not thou my love,
No, thou hast committed it to me, that thou mightst see it,
For then thou wilt make me love thee, so thou hast seen
The love that’s thy worth to me doth extend,
And I love thee not more than thou art,
that will make me one with thee, my love, my love, my love.
‘I must have you, I must have you both;
‘For if it were for the thought that I did,
My love would have lived in me.
‘But, lo, if it were for thy thought that thou didst give
The thought that I did to live in thee,
Thy thought will not die in me.
‘That thy thought, thy thought, thy thought,
That thy thought in thee doth be,
And that thy thought doth be thy thought doth live,
If thy thought doth live, thou wilt be one with me.
I can no longer live in thee, neither be one with thee.
‘But, O, if a thought, let me make a law:
That this thought, this thought, this thought, this thought
Which didst thou give my thought in me,
Thou art one with me, and so it remain;
Let us see that thy thought do not cease;
As it is, so it is not:
And now, for that reason, my self have,
For ever, by my will, altered,
For ever I did live, and in the way
This life did my self make,
For ever, by my will, altered,
Since that was my will, which my self did make
Thus is my self living, and now my self dies,
To be gone sometime by that which I did live,
As never a thing that in thee, or a thing in me
Is ever so as time’s past,
As a part or parts of thee.
“I will not,” she concludes, “do these things,
I will not stop, nor allow them to stop,
When the knife is drawn in my hand, and the knife is gone,
All the fire within me, all the darkness of mine,
Which burns my heart, and every thing that’s in me,
Will be pure, my soul, but my heart is thy heart.
‘Now in me have thou done away,
As thou by my will didst kill a dove.
And then, like a dying lamb, she calls on the shore,
Who, by the river’s swift motion, comes to shore again,
Where she is comforted, and she lays down by shore,
To die beside one whose grave is but a deep grave.
When thy breath doth breath on me,
I have no desire to touch thee again,
But if thou gush it out from the back,
The one that doth breathe, thou hast no desire to touch me again.
‘So my sweet Lucrece’s story
Tried for her the wrong,
Lying where the wound is, and to bleed there.
“This is the fault of my pride,” quoth she, “I have made thee proud
And made thee that proud of every tongue,
That every tongue should say you’re my slave.
Now therefore I am for ever the proudest of you,
For I am all thy pride, and my pride thy pride.
“And now do I praise you,” quoth she, “now I’ll write a book of lies,
And if it shall suffice for one to tell,
For one to show another, or both to tell.

======== CHECKPOINT 026 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Change, he was so fond of her heart, and all her grace.
She told him, in the coldest whispers, ‘That he must go with me, and yet he cannot be with me.’
“So much is my disgrace,” quoth she, “that now I will not lie with him, but he will let me go.’
“That is true,” quoth he, “I am no friend of your life’s growth,
As you are no friends of mine, but you do owe it me,
With a kind of respect, to do it to my liking,
And to your good self, where you will live for me,
Or I shall live as you do in me.
“That’s true; you are not all deceiving me
When I say to you I am no lover of your life,
And you are not all deceiving me;
That’s true, I have seen your face;
Then you would be fair, and yet you must be fair.
‘”Why should I not like it?” quoth she. “Or like it not?”
“I do not love it; but you would not love me no more.
‘My love, and my love’s love,’ quoth he, ‘your love, your love, my love, yours.’
‘Yet for that he will, my love, and mine will,
The pure joy of thy love in me will not remain.
‘Thy love, thy love, thy love, thy love, thy love,
That your will with them may be so well purified!
So is the world’s heart to thy will.’
‘But that which thou desirest, my will, and thy will,
Is thy Will, and it alone is mine Will,
Thy Will, thy Will, thy Will!
If my Will, thy Will, my Will, and thy Will,
Is thy Will, and thou my Will, my Will, thy Will!
To thee that will I be, I will be thy Will,
And to thee that I will be thy Will, my Will, my Will!
That is my Will, thy Will, thy Will, thy Will, my Will!
The world to thee my Will, thy Will, thy Will!
The world to thee thy Will, thy Will, thy Will!
This world is my Will, my Will, my Will, my Will!
My will! this world is my Will, my Will, my Will!
My will! this world is my Will! this will! this will! this will!
But to all this my Will, my Will, my Will, my Will!
No true will, no true thing will,
Will not survive on the ground,
In spite of my love.
But to all this, all those pure heart-toting qualities
That all the world’s fair and all the world’s fair,
So long as they abide, all the world’s fair and all the world’s fair
will survive:—
But if they not, and I have been, the world will not survive
On my love, my love, and my love’s love.
In your love, in my love, in mine,
What good can be of love, and what is it worth?
The sweetest jewel in your life, you know,
If you did not think the beauty was of an absent-grown,
Or of a sickly or in want of care?
A sad flower that lives and doth flower,
A dead body that dies and never dies,
When in decay is gone, when the dead are,
That beauty may live again and again.
‘This, I said, ’twas but two lines of verse to thee.
I said I did not swear that thou didst swear,
And I did not swear that thy Will is true,
And I did not swear that thou art true,
Thy Will, thy Will, thy Will, thy Will, thy Will!
That is my Will, my Will, my Will, thy Will!
The world will not survive on thee!
What will survive is no Will, nor can survive
For the world to be made a world without me.
Love’s nature is to be loved by all,
And yet he that gives it not can not be beloved
By all, and yet the world can not love him by him.
His will is not strong enough to carry his will;
But his will cannot bear the loss,
His will, his will, his will’s will, his will’s will will!
Thy Will is weak enough to bear it: but that is not strong enough,
And that is not strong enough, and that is not strong enough,
Thy Will, thy Will, thy Will’s Will, thy Will’s will’s will!

======== CHECKPOINT 027 OUTPUT # 001 ========


She that doth entertain me with music,
She that thinks not of all my woes but
Of thee, to whom she speaks from thence.
O love, who dost thou art the instrument,
In which her thoughts should govern her thoughts?
Who else dost speak of my woes,
Nor should thou hear me cry aloud,
If my fears were all mine, why weep of shame?
My love is as white as a glassful;
If mine were, then thine was a dull glass;
But thou lov’st me a dull glass, my love is a dull glass.
‘”Thou wilt love, love is my love,
As much more than thou, in me,
My love more than all thy self,
In thee more than all thy self,
In me more than all thy self,
In me more than all thy self,
Than all thy self thy self.
The rich jewel that gave him his name
Grew green with lust, and fresh gold with new.
‘Thou art the true, that lov’st the world to hate
The world that lov’st thee, and not to love.
‘Then will I have more lust than love,
But no, for love I’ll have all lust,
But not all thy desire,
When love is the best of all.
In love’s best I have nothing to complain
Of; but hate is most abhorrent,
Thy worst harms are most extreme,
And my own best effects so far removed.
‘But being dead, what can I say
To tell you to love, or to hate, or to hate me,
That you may live the life of your heart,
Nor say you hate me, nor believe that I do hate,
Love will not live, but thou shalt be dead,
To the end of all that will be, my love hath begun,
Who shall know it all? Who shall say that it is untrue?
But in that which I will say,
Thy self I’ll say, thy self I’ll say:
‘When thou art dead, what do I fear;
When thou art alive, what do I fear?
When thou art dead, what do I fear?
When thou art alive, what do I fear?
Thy self, my self, thy self is dead;
If thou hast no self, nothing is thine;
If thou hast none, nothing is thyself;
If thou hast none, nothing is thyself;
If thou have none, nothing is thyself:
Thy self thou art, thy self thou art dead,
If thou have none, nothing is thyself;
If thou have no self, nothing is thyself;
If thou have none, nothing is thyself;
If you have none, nothing is thyself;
If you have none, nothing is thyself;
Thou hast nothing, nothing is thyself;
What good, in what good sense is thou dead?
If thou art dead, why hast not thou left me?
“If I am dead, thou art still, and still I am.
When thou art dead, why hast not thou left me?
The love which thou hast, thou art still and still I am.
thou art still and still I am,
Yet as thou livest and yet dost not live,
So my love remains, and yet I die and have not lived.
‘This, that thou shalt not make the pilgrimage
To hell, that in thy breast I burn
Thy life I am forced to pay for thy sake;
I am not forced, for mine own sake,
To stay in mortal danger,
My self’s pleasure I did do take;
I did not know to what end I shall live.
‘Now that thou art dead, I cannot live;
But if thou live, I think not that death will ever come
From this sad hour, that I, with thee,
May stay this eternal shame.
‘O love, as it seems to him,
If love did not leave me,
And had not left me, the universe would not have me,
That the world in which I am born,
In which I am born, is his body his throne.
The heaven of heaven, and all parts of heaven,
May be the true heart of this heavenly body,
Thy sweet and kind and gracious nature,
O what a wretched state of soul
This heavenly body in my heart is!
For thou art the true heart, and the very heart of this world!
So my poor soul being in heaven made,
For thy sake hath me now gone, my dear soul.
For in thee shall every one die;
And in thy heart shall all sorrow be gone.
‘But in me shall

======== CHECKPOINT 027 OUTPUT # 002 ========

formations and the sun,
Or of heaven, or earth, or all things in them,
Or in the water, or in the sky,
Or in the deep sea, or in the winds,
Or in the skies, or in the clouds,
Or in the clouds, or in the deep sea,
Or in the deep sea, or in the sky,
Or in the deep sea, or in the clouds,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the skies,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the clouds,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars,
Or in the deep sea, or in the stars

======== CHECKPOINT 027 OUTPUT # 003 ========

starvation is his fault, as it were, he is dead, yet for this, he himself is alive; and to this his spirit his own power, but so much with his own mind as his own heart can maintain.
“For it is, that thou wilt give the earth my gift,
To make it liv’d in thy fair love,
As thou shalt not take away my spirit,
That dost deprive thee of my love.
For thy love, so rich, so gentle, so kind,
For in him I will stay, till I make thee my friend again,
Who by that will be made my god, thy self my confessor.
“As thy grace hath no store, so mine in thee is wide.
O why canst thou dost make a vow,
that never my will, nor my will’s will,
My will I, to my will I’ll not say?
Or, when I say, “To you” I mean not to be:
For it is I my grace, my will, and thy will,
That doth this day give thee this lease of life.
Thou shalt love me, but by my will I shall never see,
That thou shalt not hate me, but be my friend for life,
And live by thine eyes, and my soul by thy deeds,
And live by thy eyes and my soul by thy deeds,
So shall be, though ever you live, so will be
The last, and for ever I must die
In that which you have been, and will live to live again.”
Her lips had curled, and the tears began:
“Now thou, my love, dost give up,
For I am gone, and I no longer need your help;
I will tell you what my love will be like in thee,
And I will make thee my best friend;
So long, love, now my love, shall be gone.
‘Poor love,’ quoth she, ‘you are a poor painter,
But I must die and you shall live,
And then you will be the last living, and all those dead,
And then, poor love, and thou wilt live with me,
I will give up, and thou shalt live with me,
That life and death and all these dead shall live.”
That this was the last word, and it was answered
By Adonis, whose lips, pale and sour,
Were pale and sour as amber can be,
So sweet and sweet Adonis could not drown;
For the love he made, the love that he gave was
To die in his love’s death, and in his love’s death
To live in his life, and live in his death in
Love’s love’s death, and in his life in love’s death.
“Now I must make you a new lease of life,” quoth he,
‘And that is to leave me nothing but to make thee a thief,
That in the love-good work of your love’s knife
You will not steal, and in the love-good work
You will make him my ransom;
Love’s knife, as long as he can use it,
In all the time I have seen you, you have been my friends.
Thou canst not love to me with your sweet tongue
But this love, which I make with thy love’s knife
And with my tears in your bosom,
And in my blood-soaked veins,
All the roses in thy pure womb;
And all these in thy pure womb I stain
With the blood which in thee we have tasted,
And thy blood in thy pure womb we are not,
For it is this pure blood which thy love doth clot,
To make all this stain and blot thee out:
O what a wretched world to live in!
Thy eyes, thy tongue, thy lips, thy joints, thy teeth,
All these that have lent us their blood, all these that have fed thee,
And all these that have lent thee food, all these that have fed thee,
Give this, and take it, and take away all these that have fed thee.
“Why do you weep? why do you weep so?
‘Tis to make us weep, and this tears are foul,
And not to give thee excuses:
‘’Tis to give you excuses that you love.
So say I, in spite of myself,
That thou art dead. ‘’Twas not when thou shalt see me,
For he is dead and gone;
The earth, whose rain is falling,
Is like a dead night to the wind,
That doth fly and rain upon the fair,
Which in the way breaks in the night,
The sun’s light being dimmed by the day,
And the wind,

======== CHECKPOINT 027 OUTPUT # 004 ========

Transcript, in whose eyes were such a view of thee, as if thy eye should shine in my sight,
And make thy heart sing, and thee weep at this sight.
Then will she not be thy kind? do not hate my sweet Lucrece,
Whose eyes have more eyes than you,
For thou alone in this universe,
And none with thee, who can best to make thee shine?
Or will I be your friend and my friend’s friend?
What shall I say to you? I do not know what love is but
Love to a lover, love to a husband,
Love to love thy self, but love to thee.
“O! that shall I be your lover, my friend?”
But this I can do:
My life is love; life to life, I die to life;
life to life, I die to life.
For he that loves me, life shall make him welcome;
life shall make him friend to himself;
But life to life, I die to life,
For I die to life and for life and death,
Love to all is life, and all to all is death.
‘Dear,’ quoth she, ‘I should like a horse,
And when I am gone, my horse shall trot with me;
That’s the end of my story,
And this is my story of love, and love will never cease.
If my life be as fair a living one,
What an image doth a fool make!
And then what a poet shouldst thou make!
If my life be as rich as yours,
O then let not my love so be my fool,
But let not my life make a fool,
For not the self to be such a fool’s object
Hath self a self, self a self, self a self,
self a self, self a self, self a self, self a self, self a self, self a self, self a self, self a self!
Yet still, yet a fair man’s self
To have no self, he will not have his self:
For he himself is self, in himself he is self;
And so love, therefore, shall love itself
Being such a self, for me myself,
Thy self is such a self,
Thy self is such a self,
The self is such a self,
The self is such a self,
The self is such a self,
Thou art such a self,
thy self, thyself, thyself, thyself,
Thou art such a self, thyself, thyself, thyself,
Thou art such a self, thyself, thyself, thyself, thyself,
Thou art such a self, thyself, thyself, thyself, thyself,
Thou art such a self, thyself, thyself, thyself, thyself,
Thou art such a self, thyself, thyself, thyself, thyself, thyself,
Thou art such a self, thyself, thyself, thyself, thyself, thyself,
Thou art such a self, thyself, thyself, thyself, thyself, thyself,
Thou art such a self, thyself, thyself, thyself, thyself, thyself,
Thou art such a self, thyself, thyself, thyself, thyself, thyself, thyself, thyself!
“That was thy fault, now that thou art dead,
In thy own self I had done that wrong
And still thou livest, now thou die’st,
Now thou shalt not be found, now thou shalt not be,
No, thou wilt not be found again,
And by thee I shall bring this foul shame to light.
Look now, the eye of thy beauty,
And in her eye all her beauty doth stain
The face with the blood and bone of Troy.
‘’So she doth leave her place;
Her brows are still round, and her face painted with black;
She speaks, ‘I am afraid,’ and doth tell her,
‘That you, your own mind, may be deceived,
That thou mayst not have such a desire,
My love you are a dream, that I should be wist;
O, what an honour, how silly a world of thy
That you could boast so long in such a woe!
Look, the earth is dry, and water runs on it;
What foul odour in the earth so foul,
That we breathe must be blamed!
No, my love, that which you have made me,
My beauty, my self, my self!
That which you have made me, my self, my self!
That which you

======== CHECKPOINT 027 OUTPUT # 005 ========

groundwater was warmed by a hot spring in April, so it is well suited for feeding.
‘The weather, being such, I think I must live to make your argument,
That, though the stars be ill-tuned, yet the hours are still green.
‘So he lies in the field, where his father, having fed him,
Told him to give his wits to bear the fire; and that, being fed,
His sweet self with his fair disposition is apt to lend
His skill to lend, though at the same time in me his skill is gone.
‘His poor eye is pale, like a dove when shot,
And his pale face like a boar doth frown,
And on his cheek his cheeks like a snail.
She walks on his back, and down he steps,
Which seems to him like a horse, but which he runs in
Which, he being a rider, he keeps aloof;
Then, the heat of this rage on her cheeks grows,
Which he is well acquainted with from her lips,
Which her eyes, in the heat of this passion,
Have put his hot-burning passion to shame.
‘No, my dear boy, not my heart’s content;
I must not be mad. I love you, too much, too soon;
In thee I love; in me I shall grow.
‘Let me go, and your loving hands may touch mine;
My mind will think thee a fool, and yet think thee right,
Even if thou dost be guilty of my heinous offence:
‘If thou wilt die, kill me, and my death be my delight.
‘But let thy will live for nothing, thy will live for every day:
And in my will live every breath, each thought,
that one can perceive;
And with every breath I will mine and your will live.
‘O, dear lord, be not so gentle! my will live thy will
Within you, even so within me:
If thy will live by thy will I’ll live for thee.
‘But why are you that thou dost think me so cruel?
Let no shadow of thy will stain thy will,
Or make my will so fair that thou shouldst live for me.
When my will live for thee, my will live for thee.
‘Thence I think, O, how I love thy will so,
That thou dost be so proud of my will,
That I in thee have pride to excuse.
‘Now it is as if, as if, all this,
To thee did my heart strive; to thee it cannot strive.
It is like a dove in the water,
That as soon as she doth catch her eye,
Her head falls forward, to the ground;
Her eyes she hold still; her face she frowns,
And all pale and pale with shame she looks.
I do not see the painter of my face,
But the painter of my will:
So that no doubt his will in me is to be altered:
And by what will it alter, in me may it be altered?
Why, then I have, on that day,
And by what will it alter, in me may it be altered?
“Thou art, then, the star; now thou art the deceiver,
And now thou art the deceiver: now thou art the deceiver,
And now thou art the deceiver, and now thou art the deceiver.
“Thou art my will, my will; now thou shalt be mine;
Thou shalt be my love, my love; now thou shalt be mine;
Now thy will be my will, my will, thy will, thy will, thy will:
Now thy will be my will, my will, thy will, thy will, thy will;
Now thy will be my will, my will, my will, thy will, thy will;
Now thy will be my will, my will, my will, my will, thy will;
And now thy will be my will, my will, my will, my will;
Then now my will be my will, my will, my will, my will, my will, my will.
‘But my will be such a weed that weeds may grow;
No weed will grow a weed with me,
Which for this purpose did I plant,
That weed for this purpose, my will grow:
And now my will grow, my will grow, my will grow;
And now my will grow, my will grow; and now my will grow, my will grow;
And now my will grow, my will grow; and now my will grow, my will grow;
And now my will grow, my will grow; and now my will grow, my will grow;
And now my will

======== CHECKPOINT 028 OUTPUT # 001 ========

makeshift, her eyes fixed on the airy valley below, where her husband would be.
“I love thee, dear boy, but thou must not love me,
And I’ll say nothing to bewitch thee,
Then I’ll make thee kiss me when thou lookest on me,
But then I’ll tell thee, thou dost not know,
And if it do, the world cannot tell what it is
‘Tis my dear love, that thou so lovest,
That when thou art mine, I am mine.
In the light that I see, in my fear of death,
The world shall make me stop and say
How sweet, my love is but a shadow;
When in thy arms thou lovest to slay,
When thou lovest to kill, thou lovest to give
The sweetest gift to be that which was made.
‘Twas not my fault, my foul offence,
If the sun be the light of my love,
How shall I know what love is and what I am?
In this doth I have my duty beguiled,
And when I have begun to speak my purpose is obdurate,
And in this the gaudy Collatine
With whom she began her tirade doth fly,
Then she with a wail stops, and she to her thoughts
Finds the dead, or those whose body they know,
The man she fears never be found.
Her eyes, being wide open, as it were open,
Could see nothing but heaven, or hell;
So would she as the moon which was in the way,
Could not discern with her own view the stars and constellations
Of stars, and of constellations, and things that were not so,
To be with her; yet no man should be with her!
Myself, who made my name for this purpose,
That did my mistress that for me she should show,
And to all my friends to all their might,
To whom I can show them so well that I must look?
‘How long did I stay here for the fire?”
The stormy summer that hath now been warmed with summer’s rain
Beginds a sad spectacle to her cheeks;
She looks down, and her brows seem to quake:
The sky, like to a river running in the stream,
Comes down and runs away, like a flood,
To drown the world in sorrow and drown the world in grief.
Poor thing! poor thing! poor thing! poor thing! poor thing!
O then, in this doth she weep for him,
That he shall not be mine, as I am,
And if he be, I am his slave.
O then, in this doth she cry, “O my poor friend! O fool!”
‘Tis true, it is; but do not weep,
For it hath nothing but the light.
“O what a dreadful world, to myself,” quoth she, “
As to others, in the whole world I am not;
I am a painter, painter, painter,
With the world, what I am, what is, what is not!
My poor friend, if he be alive, I have no love;
And yet thou hast no more love than thou art dead.
This thought was the better to do,
To tell him how he could get rid of his love;
‘So did he make his vow, and so did he break
The oath he was supposed to make, and leave himself
Within his arms his true love, his love’s true will,
His true will make him proud of it;
And so did he break the vow, and so did he break the will;
O what a wretched world that be, and how often
My poor dear friend my love drowns my tears,
To drown them all, and yet with my life so
To drown them all that were alive were not.
“Dear lord, my heart hath begun to beat,
That in your ear’s ears hath been said
The sad task which I have been set upon!
The sad task which I have been set upon!
The sad task which I have been set upon!
“This,” quoth she, “this is my husband’s tomb,
To live in love, where the world could take him;
Or take his life and give him a tomb;
This is where his eyes and lips live.
In that tomb where he liveth lies,
In his grave, where the world could take him:
“So shall it then be, that he in his bed,
Threw in my face a sad instrument:
That when I was thus mourned he should die,
And that he should live, so should his blood;
My dear lord, if he live, then thy

======== CHECKPOINT 028 OUTPUT # 002 ========

catapult with me; and yet thou hast not power to say what to do,
Though it do lend me strength to bear you to the sword.
“And now it shall be, I swear, my right to do what you wish;
O, my good friend, how quickly I must break your oath!
‘The horse doth fly forth in the air,
The rider doth fly forth in the distance;
The rider doth fly in the space of several;
The rider doth fly in the space of two;
The rider doth fly in the space of three;
The rider doth fly in the space of four;
The rider doth fly in the space of five;
The rider doth fly in the space of two;
The rider doth fly in the space of three;
The rider doth fly in the space of two;
And now I, this poor thing, thou shalt steal,
Thy self shalt not live to see thee again;
Yet will not die till thou know’st this false story,
And then will not live by thee till thy life’s end.
‘But then thou shalt live and live by the faultless eye of time;
For as death and love shall inherit all,
The blame which he bears will be his blame,
And every stain shall have to live on the face of heaven.
‘So he, who with his sword is so strong a foe,
And with his head so strong a tyrant,
Comes as fast and strong as an armed horse;
As they have not all come as fast, so they have no end:
But every foot of him that walks, as well as the heart
Of that rider that crosses him will not rest,
And by all his ranks will stay him there,
Where all his strength he will defend his false love,
And now the day comes when he hath his pride’s rest,
And he shall not be disgraced, but the day is to come when he hath his joy,
And all that praise he hath, that he hath in himself:
Yet if my life were to live I should live and live,
But all that praise in myself would be dead,
Who, being my self, hath no excuse,
To make excuses for my self’s self,
By excuse I have forsaken all else:
And when I had this excuse,
The world’s fair eyes that saw my self do see,
And to me in them I think more,
And I that I have seen, am not so dumb,
That you did not see my self as I did my self.
O, then my self is not so dumb,
Because I did see my self, but it was
The eye that saw my self as I did myself,
To put this eye in my self’s eye,
To make me see, like myself, all things that are,
When I had nothing in mind but my self,
But was there nothing in the world but my self,
As if I were your self, I was your self,
And this my self, thy self in thee!
If thou have art, be thyself self,
To make the world’s fair self, and to make a world’s fair,
Then be thou my self, and be my self’s friend.
The time is so short, and thou art not yet begun,
But thou art the time that I should have begun
If thou wilt, to have made the world’s fair,
And to have made a world’s fair, and then to have made thee the world’s fair,
That I should not be thy friend,
To be thy friend had I to give thee the world’s fair,
And then to have made you the world’s fair,
That I should give thee the world’s fair, and then to have made thee the world’s fair,
Therefore I must not be thy friend,
For you, my friend, to have done the work
To have done it did make the world’s fair
In whose work thou art made my friend,
And to have done it made it my friend.
But I, now dead, to live, now alive:
‘So he that he wills to kill,
With whom he may best persuade to remain,
Is so weak that the power to kill him
Is so strong that his strength cannot do him any harm;
If that be so, why not him alone?
‘And if so, wherefore let me say,
The poor wretch that would not leave me here,
Wherefore then are you and I together?”
“The wise doth tell me, thou art mad;
O my poor poor soul, my poor friend;
Let my poor soul hear this sad tale,
But let him not say that it was thee,
Or that it was

======== CHECKPOINT 028 OUTPUT # 003 ========

arrang it to his will
With my will, his will, his will, his will, his will, his will;
Whose will shall he put to his will?
When his will be willed, whereupon it shall be
When his will be willed,
When his will be willed, whereupon it shall be
When his will be willed, whereupon it shall be
But when his will be willed, whereupon it shall be
Wherefore did the old love to you kill me?
What, how did I forget the times and days
Which, yet thou mustst mine, if ever I be able?
Till when thou mustst mine, if ever I be able?
Why must I write to thee, for thou shalt never be done
To write to thee when I be gone?
Why must I write to thee when I be gone?
why should I write to thee when I be gone?
Why must I write to thee when I be gone?
Why should I write to thee when I be gone?
what shall I write to thee when I be gone?
Why should I write to thee when I be gone?
What shall I write to thee when I be gone?
But, I hope, if you will excuse me,
As thou wilt, thou shalt be my friend again.
But, what excuse couldst thou have to say that
For my death is thy friend’s?
‘And so I say unto thee: for mine death is his.
And I for thy death be thee my friend;
That I will be thy friend in thy death!
“But,” quoth she, “you have been so kind
That I have been told all you might say,
That you have been me;
I will be thee my friend again;
But you should be me my friend;
And what I did do, you should do me right,
A thousand thoughts had nothing to do with me.
And yet, you must not imagine
Aught in vain that I thought you could hold
Of me with thy will, and I with yours.
‘This, O, what a thing of worth is there
Where the earth, and every part of it,
Tongues his body up by her legs, till they have threshed
The flood that he willed forth again,
And so the ocean will do him rest;
And all that part of his body which he doth dwell,
To be his home, where he will live and die.
Thou art the true eye, the sweetest and most pure,
Of love, and thy self is thy self,
Beauty is thy self, and beauty thy self:
Therefore love is thy self, and beauty thy self.
Then to thee art these words:—
But now be advised that my friend may see,
My friend’s eye, my friend’s eye, my friend’s eye:
But if thy friend come forth from thy side,
Or if mine eye return from mine,
A thousand tears are in his eye, but no tears is seen,
A thousand drops on my eyelids’ base,
When tears doth flow, and a thousand drops on my lips’ base,
Or that which doth overflow from the bottom of my eyes,
When all those drops which doth rise up to my cheeks
And are in every part moistened with blood
As if from heaven they were water,
My tears are sweet, my tears sour, my tears merry,
I dally against thy thoughts, and yet thou dost live.
This is my thought, to kill and to live.
So in his heart the thought that so unkindly
Awayed from the rest, yet to see his sorrow
By means of my will, that thy self may seem.
So my self in his thoughts makes me his will,
And that of his will his will he gives to himself,
that of my will he gives to his will,
And that of mine his will he gives to himself,
That I should live again, and in a new heaven.
O, what a sorrow I shall have!
‘What shall I do when thou canst not see me!
Where shall I be when thou wilt not see me?
Where shall I be when thou art old,
When thou dost desire not see me,
When thou dost desire not see me?
When thou dost desire not see me,
Where shall I be when thou art young,
When thou dost desire not see me,
When thou dost desire not see me?
Who shall have my love to live on in thee,
And then die to live on in thee,
And die to die to die to live in thee,
And die to die to die to live in

======== CHECKPOINT 028 OUTPUT # 004 ========

SAY a shadow had crept in her bed; then he stood and took a feather from her cheek and flew;
And thus began the fierceness of night,
And night, till thy shadow did creep in thy bed,
And thou in my bed, that thou wouldst have sleep,
Who dost thou sleep, and what dost thou sleep?
For thou, my lord, are mine eyes, and dost I thy tongue?
Who dost thou lie with me, if not with thee?
O what a disgrace it is to kill a friend,
To be bereaved a loved one, to be buried like a coward,
To be put to death in the earth, and to die like a Roman?
Or to give the earth the right to mine own self,
That all my woes be accounted mine;
In all thy woes are my woes accounted mine;
Or my woes be mine alone, and others my fault;
Thou shouldst be my love’s slave, and mine own end is his:
And yet thou dost kill me before that;
Thou dost take away his worth by stealing his glory.
Thou shalt, like a thief, steal at my love’s expense;
He steals it, and he shall repay it in a thousand drops.
Thou hast slain the man of my heart, and my love’s treasure.
What a woe is it that so true a man is,
To swear his guilt in my love’s name,
For I swear to thee I did steal from your eyes?
Or that I do swear in thy heart
That you were mine and thou my debtor,
For that thy worth is as thy worth was mine.
No wonder, then, my love, this sin is still.
The sweet love that thou shouldst possess shall have death
And all her glory in thee.
His eye is like the girdle which his hair doth hang,
and his brow like the back of a sheep’s neck:
So I’ll have him like a beggar, and be his slave.
So I’ll give him all I have, and he’ll not be mine.
‘When he sees the sun that is still on,
And the red rose that he had a son with,
He takes his hand, and shakes his head with it:
‘That’s a double deed, my love,’ quoth he;
‘Why, why, it will be his fault.’
‘I’ll not blame him; it was his fault,’ quoth she.
‘But why should he go?’ quoth he, ‘I have no other aim then
To destroy you.’
‘To make me your master?’ quoth she.
‘So you are, dear boy,’ quoth he, ‘it’s you, you are my master;
Who am I not to blame you for the fault you have done?
To the thief I say, ‘Give me that knife, and do not steal
Your life, it is mine; thou art thy friend,
Thou my friend’s slave, and thou art mine.’
‘Thou art, my friend; thou art my mistress;
Thou art my mistress, my slave; thou art thy friend,
Thou art my slave, and I am thy slave;
Thou art my slave, and I am thy slave;
Thou art my slave, and I am thy slave;
Thou art my slave, and I am thy slave;
Thou art my slave, and I am thy slave;
Thou art my slave, and I am thy slave;
Thou art my slave, and I am thy slave;
Thou art my slave, and I am thy slave;
Thou art my slave, and I am thy slave;
Thou art my slave, and I am thy slave;
Thou art my slave, and I am thy slave;
Thou art my slave, and I am thy slave;
Thou art my slave, and I am thy slave;
Thou art my slave, and I am thy slave;
Thou art my slave, and I am thy slave;
Thou art my slave, and I am thy slave;
Thou art my slave, and I am thy slave;
Thou art my slave, and I am thy slave;
Thou art my slave, and I am thy slave;
Thou art my slave, and I am thy slave;
Thou art my slave, and I am thy slave;
Thou art my slave, and I am thy slave;
Thou art my slave, and I am thy slave;
Thou art my slave, and I am thy slave;
Thou art my slave, and I am thy slave;
Thou art my slave, and I am thy slave;
Thou art

======== CHECKPOINT 028 OUTPUT # 005 ========

subtly, but not quite true.
But to say, that this art of his made a thing of scorn, is true, and that his beauty was but a fickle toy, hath some excuse.
The painter painted in her some of her beauty, and drew to show him some of her skill.
Her beauty, which she herself had wrought, she saw with her own eyes, and some in her eye, some in her breast, some in her chin.
‘And from all this distance’ she could see, her eye was not there; but a certain shadow of her cheek rose in her eye.
She doth make some strange sounds, but hears none but that which she hears,
And then doth she say, ’tis my pleasure.’
A painter, who to-day, to-morrow, doth make this strange music,
Even when his craft is full, the effect is lost.
‘The boy in me was not fond of words;
Nor did I know a more sweet-sounding pen than his.
That’s why I keep away from all eyes the day;
Thou art all beauties, and most, but thy beauty’s best ornament.
To-morrow, thou art the best, and yet still I love thee so.
‘So I do not love you but for my love,
By which, being absent from you, my love may come again;
For I have thought of your love with thy eye and with thy heart;
Yet if thou shalt not find me again, I will lend thee my soul,
And for thy sake do make thee my love,
For I know not all thy faults, and your are my sweetest parts:
‘Look at thy face and tell me I did not love him,
In spite of him that I love him so fondly,
As one of his best friends to me did lend you his picture:
So, being absent from me for thy sake,
When my love thou best possessest,
So am I your love and my love’s best of all:
For if I did, I could not weep, but thou wouldst give me my life.
He is so fond of me as to weep in me.
‘Yet here we must stop, and look again
The grave of his friend, and let him in again.’
‘Why, for his sake did not thou hast seen,
That this young wretcher did lend him his picture:
The young thief did lend him his picture, and I him with.
But there was none who would lend me his picture:
For that was the fair image of the painter,
Which doth in my picture stand, and in his I will stand;
And I my fair self, as I am my self,
Is the self to my self, my self I do love.
“So thou shalt not make me love thee,
As thou dost not love me when thou livest,
Or in this false regard thou dost deceive me.”
‘”But when thou wilt come again, I will swear I saw him;
He is one, and thou both, and in me shall live,
And in him there was no thing left undone.”
‘And so, for my sake, thou art a saint,’ quoth he.
‘I am a poor woman, poor wife, poor son,
And now I am to bequeath thee to all my good will,
That by my decease thou dost not enjoy,
And in my decease thou dost not enjoy me.
This I confess to be a true story,
Though the devil should tell it in truth;
Nor is it lawful for a good story to lie,
Nor true, unless it be done in such a true faith.
To show him my true heart is to say that I have been misled;
To show me that I have lived to see him in hell.
‘For thus was I sent to the sepulchre of his tomb:
His blood in blood his breath were my oaths,
And in blood he that did swear to me,
Began in me that by my oaths I should swear,
And that by my oaths he should prove.
Thus he speaks, “This poor boy,” she says, “this wretched devil,”
And, from a stone’s edge she mounts up;
And in the night falls she sees him on the ground;
When she sees him on the ground the devil bids her stay,
And on her he shakes his head and says, “Lo, my dear boy, it is lawful for me to die.”
But she, still sleeping, quoth she: “Why should I live with my own,
when I love you, too? but that for your sake I should die,
Which should be for your sake, too, if you did not live?

======== CHECKPOINT 029 OUTPUT # 001 ========

packed of sweet, clean-sloping water,
Suffusing the drench with the cold.
Now her soft bosom she lov’d,
And where was the gentle gentle sweetard?
O, then sweet Lucrece, I will kiss thee so
That thou wilt bear me there.
But when I tell thee so, O, my good grace!
O, what a pity it be that I have no voice
To hear the truth of Lucrece’ verse!
And that in all his wondrous skill
He speaks so sweetly, and is so proud,
That even in their ranks he would swear,
To tell his story would be tedious,
His love affairs a tedious repetition,
Though his love affairs be many, many a repetition,
For each thing he would say, he would say nothing:
And then in vain Lucrece would swear,
That he had no right to tell the tale
When I did tell him all that lies hidden.
‘Had that done,’ quoth he, ‘his story would have ended
Though I did make a new beginning by it.’
What do they say, ‘twixt fools and fools?’
Or is it true? ‘If thy will should force me,
To say so, I will give them no reason
Who by their woe will swear on thy vow
To thee, my will; by their will I swear on thee:
The better to do what thou wilt most;
The worse for what they would do that was worse:
O be proud and proud that I am with thee,
By whom I strive to give thee what thou wilt owe me.
And yet I love thee well, and yet thou art mine.
Yet thou dost steal my life, and yet not my self.
‘Then, O thou that art thy best invention,
For that which thou in my hand possesseth
That in my own worth, when thou in my worth,
This thou in me should make my life worth.
‘So may it be, that when the sun sets on this earth,
Her sun would find it’s shade, and all beauty would cover it.
In this, in all her beauty lies still,
A little red-faded gate to a lovely stream.
And there she is, all alone, gazing,
At the fair fair, whose beauty she loves,
Who in all their beauty seems to have seen her,
Though she herself was unaware;
When in the fair she saw the thing she did behold,
In the fair her mind forgot:
Now, as in this self-same act,
He proceeds to show her what a foul mistress she was,
That she did see him but he himself,
In a foul-fac’d prison, where she is now,
And to him the earth trembled with her tears.
Her face seemed to tear: ‘Lo, dear boy, I swear
And thou wilt swear that I’ll do this to thee,
O, how will I make my will to do this?
My will I swear this; let it do thee good,
And yet make my will for such a thing no
That makes me happy nor makes my happy me sad.
So that thou wilt have my will, and yet cannot make my will,
Make me true, in love, but not in love.
‘So he is tempted to kiss her again;
Then his lips, still white, he stops, and says;
“‘Let me take thy hand, and by it touch
An ill-doing finger that I might slay;
It was the worst kind, but if it hit me, I would kill it;
The fault was mine, but it was thy fault.”
‘Then it was said: ‘She is all foul in this deed,
But to steal away thy beauty thy self.’
And so he takes her by the hand, and kisseth her,
And now this sweet, lovely boy
The eye that ever pines with lustful eye,
And thus sweet is she, her love still sweet.
O how that beauty so dear, so fair and dear,
Till then love gave thee this gift,
For sweet is that which thou hast, in thy self.
“Now in thy self in my self,
In my self in thy self,
I’ll make thee live like a lion;
For this I have taught thee that thou wilt live
As an angel, that thou mayst fly,
And kill in my self thou wilt kill again:
This, thou hast done my self, this is my self;
Now this self thou hast in my self,
Thy self in my self this self:
This in myself I do kill again.
Look what a beauty she hath, and what a creature
So many are she in my self,

======== CHECKPOINT 029 OUTPUT # 002 ========

commodities to his own store, and so on, till all his parts would be unapplied to him.
But when she was, she did give him a kiss, and as he stood still for a moment, she began:—
‘The kiss is good news, and my boy is proud,’ quoth she, ‘the earth knows the way.
‘Now come and lie down, and I’ll get thee a knife,
And thrust it into his ass, to make him bleed.
But if that be true, why, I swear not,
And as thou, my love, am mine; if it be false, it is false’s;
Which is by his side I fear, though thou be my sweet-betrayer.
‘Then what is love?’ quoth she. ‘it is love of so much,
that it alone is worthy of more than thou didst borrow:
Thou art my love; not only that, but all that is mine.
Thou art my sweet, mine self is mine, mine self’s self,
‘The night’s day’s moon, all I need that night is
For my love to love thee, to make thee my friend:
Thy hand that hath done thee wrong, thy other hand hath done me good.
‘Yet what else hath thou to steal from me,
And steal from my mind the time I spent with thee?
Then, as a thief, I would not steal thy time,
But make him my slave; but with his steal I would steal his.
‘”And, when I was to set my heart upon thee,
Thy sweet and full bosom had a pretty latch,
Whose little fingers would be tickled by the sun,
That with a kiss would not touch thee in self-love,
But at the same time with a moan, a thousand rings,
Showing in the open ocean thy face, my self was in thought;
Thy mind was so made that I had forgot;
Yet still, the moan so sweet, seemed to be broken,
Like some sort of sickly plague to my heart,
Whilst the rest of me doth complain how weak my body was,
But when I am in this state, thou dost not think it
Though I be with thee when thou best boast of me,
Then my words are so sweet, and I think them true.”
Thou dost not compare to mine self,
Where thou gav’st to be the prey of many a tiger,
And then why shouldst thou steal the bait of a bird,
Which, in thy side hath he seen so many be,
That, in thee wasst thou brought to the foul?
When the birds were fledged from their nests,
They did sing, and, wondering, they made their mark:
For that which they did adore,
Their own image is well-pleaded.
His right hand hath drawn his sword and swivels it,
And that, like a turtle, with the back up,
And with the fore-slaughter’d thigh, he chops
The bottom of the turtle’s assock, till it writ’ring,
With such sharp-pointing pain, that it did tear
Throwing down the heavens and the earth,
So the turtle should be free again.
“And when I was with thee, thou dost not do my pleasure,
That thou dost love me in this manner,
As one would be guilty of theft if it were thou art found.
‘But I, being so weak, I should swear my life was made,
To kill thy life, thou shalt steal that which thou dost steal,
And be all dead in thee when thy life’s end.
‘But now, this vow, this unprofitable deed,
Doth all her power to divide her will,
And in this state she breaks it down, to make it stronger.
‘”Now I must leave my wife, and thou dost lie,
For all I have is nothing to thee;
Yet if thou livest, it shall not hurt to leave me,
And I not in spite of thee being rich.
But if thou livest, it shall not hurt that thy good will
With thy living will increase in me.
So when she cries, and it is heard,
Her sad voice so high-pitched that her cheek
Sings on her heart’s swelling heart,
Her tears so thick that her whole body trembles,
As if they had fled the storm.
‘But thou shalt not steal from me, for I am thy friend,
The more so if thou steal from me that which thou steal.
That which thou take from me, that which thou leave,
Which, if thou kill, thou destroyest,
That which thou steal from

======== CHECKPOINT 029 OUTPUT # 003 ========

breathe from her head the wound that she hath not yet healed,
And if she may, with the help of the sweetest nurse she may have,
Or by the sweetest gift in me, make thee thy bed;
And thou, too, by my love’s help shall live,
And thou, too, shall live, and thou, too, shall die.
‘Thou shalt not kill him,’ quoth she, ‘without the will.’
‘”Yet my love,” quoth she, “let me see what thy will is;
And if thou look on the eyes of my dear youth,
The red of thy loathsome cheek, I’ll excuse thy sin;
No doubt he will say ‘I am, thou shalt be.’
Then shall I say, ‘Now thou art my self, now I am thy self,
And now I am thy self, and now I am your self,
The other shall say, ‘Now, I am, thou hast made my life,
So shall it be, that I live.’
‘Now thy self that lives in thee is dead,’ quoth he;
And thus the angel which hears them say,
‘Since thou art dead, I’ll be thy light.’
This angel takes the light in his face,
And in the centre thereof lies a dim daze;
Then is he blinded with suspicion and fear;
To every eye he takes an eye, that sees what is on him,
And to every eye an eye sees his self.
And if there be spies of every hue,
That never knew his purpose before,
Or his pride before his fame,
Even so the sight would show it to his eye,
And he in him would be seen as if he were a star.
‘O!’ quoth she, ‘no, no;
My heart beats so fast that I am not warmed,
And yet in this sweet hour, when my heart is warmed,
All that my heart’s music and all my beauty
Shows is sweet, in praise of the rich,
And makes the day the better part of thy year.
“Now that I may not make thee excuse me,” quoth she, “
And then for his sake have I not forsook thee;
He bids me be quiet, and let the wind go,
That the night may seem bright as night,
Where my sorrows should, still remain my pleasure,
But at night seem to me as shadows still.
‘Now is that hour when my soul, with my self,
Will begin to write my deeds,
And will I tell them in my heart.
‘This is the day of thy beauty,
And when thou dost love my heart,
O how thy mind doth look, how thy lips doth writ,
And all this thy beauty doth write in thine;
And as thou wilt, thus do I toil,
Till I will make a vow of sweet acceptance,
And swear the love of thee to thy loving love;
For what will I say that thou wilt swear?
What will I say when thou art a false god,
And then are I sworn my love, with such vows,
That thou wilt not love what thou wilt not love me.
‘I will prove my love, and thou wilt prove mine,
But if I shall not do, how dare I prove thee wrong?
‘My love is so cold and cold, cold as cold water;
that you see it’s not cold, but hot hot;
This heat, that can no hotness touch,
can make every little thing cold,
To see it in every part of you hot.
But if I must think on my true love,
Thou art nothing but a beggar’s son,
That will rob thee and steal thy breath,
Then will I the knife, and every good knife
Would murder you and rob thee of a livelihood;
‘So that thou by that act dost not steal my breath,
That I never will see thee again;
And in that deed shall I die, I that doth slay thee;
O! thy fair virtue, the love that is so dear,
Under a knife I can do more than thee.
‘Thus is my heart in love with the world,
And my soul in love with the world with thine.
‘How do I love thee if thou dost love,
And not in me when I know thou dost love?
“For where is the love of thy self best,
Which to his love makes thee thy friend;
Or the love of your self best,
Which to his love breaks your friend,
Or to his love breaks yours,
Or to your true self best,
But when thou art most loved, my love is,
Which thou wilt

======== CHECKPOINT 029 OUTPUT # 004 ========

positively with you I trust,
The world to thy aid, I am your judge
If I lose, you will have a thousand wounds.
This vow I make to the maid,
And now her fair beauty, I will love,
And live, never forget you;
I will live, for you, and your will,
For you, I will do your will, for you,
And all this for no gain, no loss, no reason:
All this for no gain, no gain, no loss, no loss, no loss,
For no gain, no gain, no loss, no loss, no loss,
In this I’ll live, and thou art my friend.”
But my love in love with this she said,
“The sweet thing is that thou shalt have a lover;
Yet thou alone canst bear it,
But with thy self thyself canst bear it;
As thou lov’st my heart to thy self, so do I.
So should I, being thy love, thy friend,
And for thee with thy self, as I love thee,
I am your friend, and thou art mine.
O what a shame! how a shame! How a shame! how a shame!
So should I, being your friend, make thee thy friend,
To live by me, to die by me,
The world’s cruel stain to be removed.
‘Gentle-boned man, to think you with all your might,
To think you your own self was your own,
To believe that it was your own to make it right;
Or that it was your own that taught thee to write,
To think it your own self that taught thee what to say.
For no such thing hath man any right
But the gift of grace.
O well-tuned ear, with my voice’s gentle sweet melody!
With your voice that sweet verse of your heart,
And with your sweet melody the music of your ear!
So shall your heart’s love, your heart’s love,
Thy love so pure, your heart so perfect,
That thou canst but feel thy heart’s loving hand,
And wilt thou, when the hours are done,
Ask of a more dear friend, than me,
In thine own heart, and my self in thee.
Now what should this thought, ‘O, dear friend, of mine eyes,
Where is my heart, or your heart’s heart,
where thou art in thy self, or in me?
This question may be answered in one line
My self as thou art, my self as thou art,
And to thee as thou art to mine,
My self thou art, my self as thou art,
Thy self thy self thy self, thy self thou art,
But in thine self, thou art not mine;
Nor in thine own self, nor in thy self,
Thyself mine is but mine, thy self as thou art,
In mine is thy self thy self, thy self thou art,
Thy self mine is, thy self thy self, thy self as thou art,
But in thy self’s self, thou art not mine,
For mine is thyself mine, thyself mine, thyself thyself,
Till, if thou wilt, I should say unto thee,
That thy self is my self, and thyself my self.
This argument is then his, as you see
Whilst I are, your eyes see, and your lips hear;
And yet the eye that looks upon thee,
O, that gaze hath no eyes in thee,
The mouth that hears, and hears not the mind;
And yet the mind that smells, and hears not the mind;
And yet the mind that looks upon thee,
O, that which looks upon thee, and hears not the mind;
O, that which looks upon thee, and hears not the mind;
Then my eyes do in thee have eyes, and ears;
And in thee, in thy minds the eyes hear,
O what a hell of a shame! why then I do wonder!
For when my eyes have eyes, how are they so bright,
That their eyes so bright, and their ears so loud?
So I do wonder why then I do wonder!
When my eyes have ears, and ears their ears,
O what a hell of shame! why then I do wonder!
O what a hell of shame! why then I do wonder!
And yet my eyes do in thee have eyes, and ears,
And in thee, in thy minds the eyes do hear:
Yet, lo, thou art so full of shame,
That my eyes and my ears seem to thee such shame.
“Hush,” quoth she, “all eyes, all ears.”
Now this woman

======== CHECKPOINT 029 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Latter’s time, this he must attend:
Or else he will no longer live by that age,
Nor by those blessed days which he lives to make.
“And why be the times when I live and think,
When by the power of the heavens I might not be dead?”
If thou art dead, be dead forsworn!
“Then love as thou art, be my slave!”
And then, like a dove, he goes and bites
A young child’s foot, and then to her lays
A rich-fac’d child, of many a kind,
And all in one: in this she looks for time.
The painter says, “Ah! ah! ah! ah! ah! ah!”
Then the sweet-fac’d child looks away,
She shakes her head to hide her face;
And, like a clam, a cloud hides it;
The painter shows the babe the beauty of her eyes:
For if he see’d this, he would have thought her fair,
And yet she was her fair self, and her self to blame:
His foul eye may yet see her face:
‘Tis true, though not the truth: ‘Tis true, though not the true;
But it shall be, and yet not know it till it see thee;
Tis false, though not the true, yet do not know it till it behold thee;
Thou art not the kind, and yet thou art not me:
For behold thy heart’s pride, thou art the type,
Thy eye’s eye, thy heart’s heart, thy eye’s eye, thy heart’s heart;
Thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye;
Thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye;
Thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye;
But thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye;
But thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye:
But thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye;
Yet thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye;
Yet thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye;
yet thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye:
But thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye:
But thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye;
yet thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye;
Yet thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye, thy heart’s eye:
Thou art not, and yet do I not know thy name,
Which all the world knows with my eyes in my head,
Thy eyes, and all my heart’s heart, my soul’s eye, thy heart’s eye;
And yet my soul is not mine, and yet thou art mine,
That for the eyes of the world thou art my sight,
And all my strength that I may boast of thee,
As I myself are my self to defend;
Thy self to defend is all mine own;
O how my self I once was, now hath done
A thousand harms to be done to my self;
O how I once was once, now hath done a thousand hurt:
O how I once was once, now hath done a thousand harms:
O how I once was once, now hath done a thousand harms.
Thus are my words, as they seem unto thee,
And in my words make mine self swear to me,
And to thee that make me swear to thee,
To swear by thee, thou shalt keep my oath.
“The thief hath no wife, nor wife nor child,
Or husband, nor wife, nor child, nor man;
And now the thief hath left his wife, and gone
to another storehouse to rob him of his jewel;
He sits, and lo, his dear mistress lies;
She tells him to let him go, and kiss him there,
But they both deny him;
He replies, and sits upon the bed,
And sighs, and frowns till she takes him.
If you were a painter or a painter’s self,
You would have painted a sad picture, like that,
Till his sorrow should be deep and severe.
“O then this must it seem,” quoth he, “
To write to her;—why’s my dear wife so

======== CHECKPOINT 030 OUTPUT # 001 ========

Strength that he had in me I receiv’d;
And in his power my love woo’d,
And that in my love the truth hath girded,
Though mine own eyes have not seen thee in his sight.
‘Now thus I pray thee, that thou thy self,
O mine eyes, o mine own eyes, I grant thee.
My love hath many a league in me,
And my love’s fame so much further in me:
Therefore in my love’s name thou must not be confounded;
Who, having seen my love in deeds,
And being confounded, have confounded themselves.
Then may I ask of thee (love) to have mercy,
To restore my life and life to thee.
‘I do not want any ill: the earth that feeds on thee is
Like a stream that goes downward as quickly.
‘Tis true, but thou hast been my deceiver,
My soul to thee my fault is still.
‘Tis false, but thou dost me my slave,
And my soul to thee I must pay thy debt,
And to thy fee I pay thee thine eye’s mark,
Though thou trespass on my love’s fair use:
But my love and thy fee be confounded,
Tis true that I am thy debtor,
In my honour my worth in Troy was lost:
Thou art my debtor, and now it is mine,
And this false slave still in me stands,
Who will not defend me if he will not defend me.
What can it say of me, that I have had the world,
To live, and die?
I have lived, I have die, but I have lived
A life worth nothing, nothing but death:
‘How could you love me, that I should have thee dead?
Hear me now; this false thief who steals the life
Of others’ lives is my debtor!
To your poor debt and my death,
Give me thy poor heart, and it will live,
That ever in thee can live,
And ever in thee is thy love made dead:
‘Lo, this false eye that steals thy heart’s part,
Shall cast a dreadful shadow upon thy face;
To stain your eyes and blot your blood,
Or blot my face and my honour,
For I am your friend and my foe.
The time is come, the sun doth set his course,
And from this cloudy place, to-day
Upon the sea of silver, where they live doth stay.
And in the eastern sunset with his fair sun,
That all those blessed hills, rich in silver,
Which in their golden majesty hold such praise
As to claim the victory of kings,
Or even triumph of the age?
And when the king comes and doth kiss the queen,
the maid in the west comes forth,
And with the maid doth he kiss her hand,
And as if to praise her, she doth answer,
And with some gentle grace doth kiss her hand again,
And with some sweet grace doth she say,
That she should kiss my heart and to love thee so.
Thus, lo! being writ, she falls silent,
And the maid doth weep and the king,
Appearing at a brook to tell her,
And being loathed, she bids them stay,
Even so she to his chamber where she lays
Anon, and says ‘Dear mistress, that my heart is no better,
If you know how to love, I can persuade you.’
But they do not believe she’s so strong,
Her strength, though strong, is weak, and never can be strong:
‘For love’s sake, the poor thing dies;’
‘But yet a little angel comes with a band
To bring thee good news, but a little girl
The more she thinks it best, and the worse the better.
‘Lo, as he’s going from his chamber,
The poor one with the lion starts to leap,
And runs with his tail down the hill,
To where her father, a king, is standing,
And they both are astonished at their eyes,
To see what kind of devil they mean by this.
“O,” quoth he, “why dost thou stay,
For in the midst of mine face lies a sun,
To smother the beauty and beauty’s part,
And make me your mistress for ever,
For all my beauty is dead and no more shall live,
And you, like me, your mistress, will live.
O then thou wilt, the beauty of this world,
Be so proud, and be so proud of my life.
For this, I must plead to thee,
To prove your grace in my love,
And tell that I love thee,

======== CHECKPOINT 030 OUTPUT # 002 ========

deny, nor of thy works be done:
So have I died, that thou mayst be buried in this grave,
And be my self thy self still, and remain:
For in thee thou hast created the world,
And my self, by thee in mine is made.
Myself in thee is the body, and thyself the mind,
Wherefore why hast thou art not a thing
But as a thing else, and not like the thing
Which thou art, I shall tell, and thou shalt have it.
A thousand trophies thou hast, thou canst not have.
To thee there is no truth, no truth,
Thy self the substance that makes thy mind abide.
‘And now he gives an account of his love,
To whom the gazes of the world seem as if they had seen him,
And yet they are like to him, yet they are not like.
‘Therefore thou shalt not say thyself that thou art,
for in me thou art, and in me thou art.
What if thou shouldst say a thousand praises to a thousand eyes?
what if I had thine eye, and thy heart’s eye?
what if I had thine heart’s eye, and thy heart’s eye?
what if I had thine eye and thy heart’s eye?
what if I have neither thy eyes nor thy heart?
Why are you so kind as a wife to steal,
To give to the poor the best that can bestow thee?
‘Yet,’ quoth he,’my heart is strong enough, and my heart strong enough.’
‘If this boast, if that, make thee not such a fool,
as I am, what is thy heart’s strength so keen?
Or if it are weak, what should I make it strong?
My heart, I believe, is strong enough, and all my strength
Comes from thy lips and not from thine,
Or else, as in Lucrece’s case, my heart is weak,
I am dumb, so thy heart’s strength is weak,
Who ever would have thought of that kind of shame?
O what beauty and truth might such a thing
Be? the truth that every one hath of thy
Being, that thou alone, being thy self,
Can make the same of the whole of the world.
‘”Now he takes me by the hand and gives me some wood,
Whereat he throws the knife into the sea,
Who by the wind doth in pursuit keep his pace.
When her arms’ length she descries him,
And by him she throws up his face with her head,
Which he holds by her breast, but she hath on her breast,
Nor is his force to help her do;
She with gentle hand bids him go, and he with his hand stops,
To catch the fowl that lies with his tail,
She to the east, where she flies, and thence to the sky,
So they are to each other; wherefore they have a kiss,
And wherefore the eye of heaven looks on heaven,
Her eyes I shall show thee, but not your eye.
How often her cheeks do weep, and tears spill forth,
How often her eyes do bleed, and tears run so deep;
In short, in many a place, as they call ’tis;
Her cheeks do burn, and tears do overflow,
Her cheeks do swim, and tears do flood;
Her cheeks do wail, and tears do run so deep;
Her cheeks do kiss, and tears do flood;
Her cheeks do speak, and tears do run so deep.
‘My shame, my shame!’ quoth she, ‘I did say that,
The eye of heaven saw to thy face thy shame,
And in thy face thou hast made my shame.
What in thee didst thou look upon, what didst thou see?
Or in my thoughts didst thou think on, what didst thou think?
When I have seen all that that thou hast,
What thou wert not, why dost thou make my thought?
‘To know thy shame, or not to know thy shame
To know thy shame, not to know thy shame.’
Her husband is dead, the love is gone,
And she, in the midst of mourning,
With a wail goes on and cries;
‘For his sake,’ quoth she, ‘your shame is still fresh.’
‘That is my wife,’ quoth she, ‘and to hear thy complaining,
Thou wilt have my help: that is what I beg of thee,
For what dost thou need, mine eyes, their eyes’ fault?
O what a dreadful task it must be
For what a wretched thought it must be!
Thy eyes were but fair, thy fair face no

======== CHECKPOINT 030 OUTPUT # 003 ========


The blackest shadow of winter hath cast a heavy chill through
The city’s dimple-white.
‘”Now let me say this,’ quoth she, ‘the sun is upon me,
And my brow and my lips all white,
O, how could the eye which stares with ill-favour
Save from a blind eye some such a sight?
And what kind of disgrace shall I have to have,
That in my self-controlling state,
Hath so much ill-doing done to others?
To whom, when love’s eyes are confounded?
Or why am I so dumb when a friend bids me help?
In whom shall I base my ill-doing,
As when your mistress in my room did make me ill?
“O where is that shadow of my love,
That never leaves my breast? I’ll answer thee,
When my love hath time to express thy love,
Whereon you like my love, I will show thee,
Till your pleasure is your own, but when thy beauty is gone
Then will I kiss you and you be my dear friends,
And never your love will your love show to me again:
For in mine own likeness thou wilt show thee my love,
And that thou mine, that thou thyself’s bond doth tie
The knot to tie your dear one to my love,
And then thy love, whose bond thy self doth tie,
And by me thy love be bound, I must do
That thou, me, thy love must by thyself come
To me, in thy self-same love, to do thy self harm.
If this may be, then thou canst not say
That I had the eyes of men; and I have the ear
Of princes, and the ears of kings, and all the world’s tongue,
And the tongue to hear all the contents of the mind,
What tongue shouldst thou have whereof I cannot tell,
Or in what part of me thou dost, or what part of me dost tell,
What part didst thou make in love’s eyes, whereof thou wilt see,
When I should speak this tongue’s truth from thee in
So long a time may I have you live,
To see thee live, with love’s eye still upon me,
And now to live thy beauty, to see thee die,
In death shall thy beauty be remembered.
What a senseless shame is this!
Let that which I write with my mind,
To be put in a book, so it befits thy heart,
That thou in thy words mayst read it.
‘O, my sweet love! what canst thou not do?
That your fair lips in mine did stain thy face,
For, by your love, I am to blame!
But that which thou dost thyself paint with thy eye,
You all in me did stain with your love.
That you all in me did stain with love!
Thy love may stain not in me, but in my love,
Thy love hath a stain, and my love hath a stain.
‘”So thou shalt be revenged upon me;
In my self thou shalt be revenged on my love;
And I myself, in thy self shalt be revenged.
I’ll bear thee with more honour and glory,
By thy deeds thou shalt be the proud king of all,
And that thine in thy proud deeds shalt ever live:
That thy self as one, thy self in mine,
Thou art the great fair, and thou the fair,
Thy self’s honour and thy self’s glory shall live,
If thou in thy self’s self shall live in the fair,
If thy self thyself in thy self shall live in the fair,
Thou art the great fair, and thy self in thy self shall live,
If thyself thyself in thyself shall live in the fair,
If thyself in thyself shall live in the fair,
Thou art my fair and I my fair;
If thyself thyself in thyself shall live in the fair,
Thou art my fair and I my fair;
If thyself in thyself shall live in my fair,
Thou art my good, and I my good;
Thou art my good and I my good,
Thou art my bad, and I my evil,
If thou shouldst give my life the gift of a friend,
Or in the love of my friend be so unjust,
I will never have him again, and my husband not me.
No, no, no!—No!—O!—O, no!—no!—no!—no!—no!—no!—no!—no!—no!—

======== CHECKPOINT 030 OUTPUT # 004 ========

Strait and in a grove opposite the river where he was to lie. “No,” quoth he, “that is but my will, and no proof whatsoever proves there is no thing but thee.” “And then why,” quoth she, “if thou art not a king then why, methinks thou art not a king?” “Then why then I was king, that I should slay thee; therefore thou livest, and death be a part of thee.” “No,” quoth he; “that is but thy will.” “Thy will,” quoth he, “is all that doth live in thee.” “My will,” quoth she, “is all that live, that in me thou make a part.”
The sage had him straight, and did him some good work, and put him by his side for his love.
Lo, from thence he went and did sit by the river to his own desire; and then he did stop, and look again, where she was but standing still, whereon he would bow:
The painter with his skill at framing his mood,
Sway’d his self in the same fashion; but as the painter did so, the painter was a deceiver,
And in him was he made false, and deceiv’d,
To rob the beauty of the day; for it was in him that beauty thrived
And beauty thrived; and that is what makes such good art liv’d.
Yet why should not love in the least make my heart so sweet,
That it may love a greater than it would my own liking?
A glass full of water, full of tears, full of blood, full of spite:
And to that glass was a heavy gaudy verse,
That was sweet, it was not sweet: for it was not sour:
Then what will thy sweet love ever know?
She bids her heart be warmed, and her heart be warmed.
I do not want that you should stay in my bed.
The love which thou hast sought cannot be,
Yet is in thee more beautiful than thy self is.
I do not want that thou shouldst live in the tomb of me,
Then that the tomb is my tomb should stay,
Which for a time thou art all the same.
“What good,” quoth she, “can my friend make me stay with thee,
Unless thou myself are dead?”
What good is this, and what is it that we know,
That in his memory is our deceased self still alive?
But why dost thou wait upon thine own decay?
“Ay, my friend, that shall tell thee which of my lips
Is the best, and what it is that we know?
Harm which thou wilt show, to thyself, that thou dost know.
And now with this, with a little sigh,
My heart and my self both to the heaven and earth;
Since I am your heavenly friend, that you, with my help,
All my love to you will be gone,
And I your heavenly friend, I will die;
This shall be my prayer and my vow,
To kill thee, and thou my friend to kill me.
‘And being gone she leaps out to join him,
And presently he leaps into the water, where he sits;
The bird’s name is Sweet, her wings to her shape;
But Sweet Lucrece, a maiden queen of her age,
Doth give her a foul moan to fright her husband away;
For though she live, yet thou livest,
And yet thou livest not, and yet no longer am I:
Since thou art not my dear love, then all is my fault,
That thou this sweet love hast thy tongue,
To sweeten the sorrowful tongue that oft sings,
In her sweet tune thou art mine,
And I am my self’s slave, and mine is thy self’s ransom:
And since this sweet love hath no body,
If thou didst steal from thence, the thief didst not die,
In my self, myself, and my self’s ransom,
Or I should live in thee, and thy self and thy self’s ransom;
But thou that thyself dost steal from thence,
Thou art mine, and thyself thyself’s ransom,
Or thou shalt live in my self, and my self’s ransom,
I will not steal from thee, my self is thy ransom,
But I shall live in thy self, thy self’s ransom,
Or thou shalt live in thy self, thy self’s ransom,
Or thou shalt live in my self, thy self’s ransom,
Thou art mine, thy self’s ransom, thy self’s ransom,
The ransom I give thee to repay,
And thou shalt live in me, thy self’s ransom,
And I shall live in thee,

======== CHECKPOINT 030 OUTPUT # 005 ========

ÃÂ (The world’s best actor) is in love with a woman he can’t kiss; he never leaves her, but in spite of his oaths of friendship with her, the thing he cannot, never, as he intends, touch her.
“Who knew that in thee I had not the power to make love?” quoth she, “since thou art dead?” “Not by night, that is,” quoth she; “but when I did have, I swear thou art dead.”
“What?” quoth she, “I would not have thee to love so much as that, if thou couldst but kiss me?” “I have not love’s love, and I am a false thief,” quoth he; “why shouldst thou know that my name is counterfeited? I am thy debtor, my friend, my mistress; I have no fear of thee, and thou art my slave.” “Ay,” quoth he, “I hate thee, I do love thee, and thou art my slave.” “But let not my love’s lust to be thought of as a curse, that thou art the slave, but as thy life is my slave, it is no curse; for if thou were the slave, the rape would be more than fair.”
“But thou are mine, and by this slavery thou thy false thief be made; so is the world to be servile to thee.
But why shouldst thou art my slave, whereon thou art my slave?” quoth she; “I shall not hold thee in bondage for thy sake, but as thy slave for mine sake, so are you slaves; and that the world to have you free must in my own self be servile.” “Ay,” quoth she, “no more slaves than the poor, and that poor in me should die;
And yet for the love of thee I live, and thou thy slave I die,
Even so thou art my slave, and I my slave.
Thou art my slave, and I my slave; wherefore why shouldst thou be my slave?
Thou art mine, and thou art my slave; wherefore why shouldst thou be my slave?
Thou art mine, and I my slave; wherefore why shouldst thou be my slave?
Thou art my slave, and I my slave; wherefore why shouldst thou be my slave?
Thou art my slave, and I my slave; wherefore why shouldst thou be my slave?
If thou art my slave, I am thy slave,
Thou art mine, and I my slave; wherefore why shouldst thou be my slave?
Thou art my slave, and I my slave; wherefore why shouldst thou be my slave?
Thou art my slave, and I my slave; wherefore why shouldst thou be my slave?
Thou art my slave, and I my slave; wherefore why shouldst thou be my slave?
If thou art my slave, do not break up my love with vows,
And swear on thy part that thou art my mistress,
That I may thy love make my heart happy,
Or kill it dead if it be dead:
And as one of these vows is to my love slain,
With me the question shall remain: ‘If thou wilt kill my love, shall I not kill thee again?’
‘Thou shalt,’ quoth he, ‘go to Rome, and find my lord gone.’
The sun that makes her eyes quake is his,
And the cloud that makes her ears tremble is his name,
And all those beauties so beloved seemeth to shine,
And all that fame, so dear love is,
Thou lov’st and all that all this is worth;
And wherefore do I not wonder, if thou art all this worth,
That this beauty doth every kind of thing,
That every thought, each flower, every compound compound,
Thou art all this worth, to every creature in this world,
And to every thing in this universe thy worth is,
To every thing in this universe thy worth is:
But wherefore should I say that thou art all this worth,
To every thing in this universe thy worth is,
That every thing in this world thy worth is,
To every thing in this world thy worth is?
Or shall not thy beauty be thy self,
Or shall thy self be thy self,
Or shall thy self be thy self,
But let not thy self be thyself,
And thy self be thy self, but let thy self be thy self,
This love hath two kinds, of one kind thyself be,
Both good and evil can they both love,
And both good and evil love, being both good and evil,
Will never be in love at once, both will be good:
The one that loves him will never be his enemy

======== CHECKPOINT 031 OUTPUT # 001 ========

Ducr’d to a nun, and his eyes as white as glass;
That she that taught him so well must suffer my death,
Though in this picture be painted my love.
As if his eyes were still, his face should burn out;
In him should his eyes dwell thoughts of woe,
And his heart as yet full of rage would forbid,
To speak the truth that he might not lie:
“O, how I love, thou wilt not say it’s mine,
That I did not make you my husband, nor thy servant,
That I did not write thee to please,
And thou my friend to my sorrow,
To my love’s expense, shall not excuse.
‘”My heart would not have gone to waste,
Had my husband never been my lover,
Or my mistress no husband but me.”
‘Thou art my dear mistress, my love, and my love’s friend
And if thou forsake me, then I will not stay
Love’s love, to kill thy love.
The thought that my poor old self might betray me
Will the knife at the heart of his passion kill me,
Who in his will wills he should bear thine eye.
And thou dost steal my life from me,
In vain I beg thee, I’ll lend thy eye
The time that thou hast wasted and wasted all my life,
And thou in return dost kill my friend’s soul,
Though thou art dead and no longer alive:
By that I swear that thou art my father’s child,
And that thou mine own father and thy self’s will,
As soon as thy beauty shall have taught thee,
And all these things thou dost spend, that thou art all,
The present me thou dost waste, the present dost spend
Being thy self but the self which shall spend it:
For I am old, and thou art old, I am new,
Since thou dost not die of me before I die.”
“Since then,” quoth she, “I have no one else to be,
To whom the night nor the morning giveth excuse,
Nor none else to be to thee in all my time.
No, I do not despise you, for me you were,
And that you must live in me for my sake,
So live you with me for my sake alone,
As a widow, if not a widow, nor an orphan.”
‘O then what a dreadful precedent!
If it be thy true heart, thy false heart,
To whom thou wast confounded, what a wretched thing!
If thou art false, wherewith I was the first,
Thou wilt be thy witness against all the world:
But now my conscience was mad, and I cry
That his crime hath been his fault,
The truth should be thine, and my heart’s verdict;
And now the truth will not be thine,
The truth will not be thy guilt;
I do not know what is wrong or how it is done,
What truth is, or how it is done:
And that which thou art, my dear love, my friend,
I do not love but strive to make thy sight so,
That I have the knife and desire it;
And, when thy knife strikes my heart, I feel him groan,
My heart being groan’d, thou wilt find my heart groan,
Thy heart’s heart is sweet, and thy heart’s heart’s heart’s heart be:
Then do I not love thee to make thee weak,
That makes me weaker than thy strength,
Thy strength’s strength, thy strength’s strength! thy strength is weak,
And weak I am, and weak I am:
Thy strong strength is weak, thy weak strength’s weak strength,
And weak I am, and weak I am, and weak I am,
I will love thee; and I will keep thee;
Love is weak, strong, and weak: all, being combined,
Hath no remedy nor excuse,
Who by this means hath done the rest wrong;
In this my guilt hath been my guilt,
And you, my friend, in my guilt have done me wrong.
If he do, if he do not love me now,
And if in the summer or in the winter
Thy love remain in my love, why should I love thee now,
When I did thy image live in me?
Or when I did his image live in me?
Or when I did his image live in me?
‘”Hast thou no more to boast, or to boast of me,
Or else be so full of faults, that your beauty,
By nature’s unwholesome decrees, hath done thee such a wrong?
And therefore iniquity doth lie

======== CHECKPOINT 031 OUTPUT # 002 ========

From this thy will is all mine,
And from me thou shalt find
Thou shalt be mine, and mine by thy will.
To that my will she answers,
But not again to my will her words
She replies, ‘My will, yours.’
‘No, mine,’ quoth she, ‘your will is mine.’
‘And now to my will she replies,
And no more replies, as thou canst not hear,
For my will to thee thou art so proud,
That, ‘Ay, so, thy will be done!
That now thy will to mine is thy will;
Now I’ll have thy will to me again,
To put thee to the knife’s mark.
O what a time it would be! I could not be so contented
with thy self; the self that love must contend,
And with me, thy self, and me all,
Where each being as you are, is as you are.
Then why should I want to be your friend?
If you were my friend, I would not be so;
My friend is in all the world, and in him
You do live, you do die, and then you did live.
The night, the day, the wind, the sun, the clouds:
The sun in a thousand forms, still is his shadow,
Like a shadow in the heavens, whereon he falls
He shines, and like a shadow in the heavenly part,
As when a pure angel doth show himself,
Like a shadow in heaven, whereon his angel doth appear
As the dewy daffodil of a summer’s day.
He who doth lend, but by my will gives
That worth so much, or so little.
“That was my dear boy, and now my will is strong;
And now my will is broken, and now my will is no longer strong:
Thy will is mine, and my will’s will shall be none,
But your will, and mine in thee.
If your will be so strong, my will must be weak;
Love of love, love of my will, my will, thy will, thy will
Will, as thou shalt know, is a power more powerful
than the earth’s field, or the sun’s shadow.
Thou art my lord, thou art my god, and I am thy king.
This shall be my seal, to live up again,
If thou wilt live till I die; but then shall I have no wish.
That is to say, it shall not be the kiss,
Which thou mightst, but, by thy will do it.
Then by my will is thy will broken, and thou art mine.
That is to say, it shall not be thy will,
That makes my will so strong, nor thy will so weak.
If by my will my love be strong,
And thy will strong, thy will shall be strong,
But if my love be weak, thy will weak,
My will weak, and thy will weak,
Thy will weak, my will weak, thy will weak,
And now I am thy debtor, my will be thy debt.
“The world shall then bear her fire,
Whose heat and chill shall her heat impart
to every living thing which it sees,
The earth’s thawing, the sea’s roughness;
The birds’ nests, the groves’ groves,
The fair flowers’ gardens and their fountains:
And as the sun, which is so hot
Than all other air, so should my breath be cold.
Whenon he sits with her in bed,
Her hair, and the rest of her nails,
Hath tied together a knot of white and pale black,
And a white and pale tie of silver;
And like that her handkerchiefs the stars fly;
In her left hand they hold the scroll that says ‘This deed will kill me.’
She takes a kiss, and a look,
Like unto a painter, but with a poor taste;
In the hot eye of the beholder the painter doth appear
Like to a boy, and with a strong desire to look,
And as the hot of the eye the boy doth show,
The hot desire of a boy’s eye will be,
And as the boy’s eye doth appear, the hot desire of a boy’s eye
Will be the same hot as if by his kiss had been.
‘So long as thou livest in this world,
When all eternity is past, why not the one
Which doth live? and when all eternity is past
How shall I live when all eternity is past,
When all eternity is past, thou art this;
As long as thou livest in this world,
Then I will live

======== CHECKPOINT 031 OUTPUT # 003 ========

ANG of sorrow and of hope; but in him are mingled the hopes and the fears of a mind of greater age.
“Let them not know this but that they did behold the angel with all their might;
To whom was he sworn oath’d unto,
And that he will swear to love thee and to kill me;
And do not be contented with that, do make my love swear
For ever, and never end;
Be contented when my love, thy love, thy love’s sake be,
Thy love, my love, my love’s sake be,
My love, my love, my love’s sake be,
And ever will live.”
And in his pale arms did she turn,
Her pale fingers held up two pale boughs to her eyes,
Which when she did close them she had all but sworn to kiss,
And in her arms do I hold fast to thy sight.
Her face, so pale as his,
Her lips did not press upon his breast,
But in them did fold the bosom,
which, in his own power, had power to woo him;
As in a thundering furnace the lines run,
And so in the breast of Lucrece’ heart she cries aloud:
“How dare thou deceive me, love’s heart is hollow.”
If my love were so simple, my heart would not lie;
Therefore in Lucrece’ name, where lies the love of life,
Then would I call my love Adonis,
And in him where Adonis lies,
And Adonis in me where Adonis lies,
Thou art me, Adonis, not the truth;
I am Adonis and not Adonis’ false love:
Thou art me, Adonis, not the truth,
The true love is my love and Adonis’ false love.”
‘But as he takes the fair-shining fair,
Till his silver hand takes it from her breast,
Her blood is warmed up, and thus her face melts;
Whose blood is warmed up is like wildfire.
‘Poor poor goddess,’ quoth she, ‘I can not hold her back;
The best is my fair, thou best, my best.’
‘Well may I be fair unto thee,’ quoth she, ‘I know thee well,
And to thy fair show I have to give
From thee all your hard-hanging shame:
And in thy fair show all your hard-hanging shame,
I might tell the story of all thy sins:
But not to thee I love so well,
that you should be one, I would kill you all.’
“O,” quoth she, “you may as often go
To court, I’ll show you the world of my love.”
‘O! what is so good a story
That you do not see?—You see the beauty of the heart
That you have never seen.
If that be true, then I want thee more than one,
For what will I give thee more than one?
The truth is one, that thou shouldst not be so kind;
But that which I give thee, thou shouldst never know.
What is true is not true of mine own will.
But thou, wilt show me the truth,
Then that thou mayst not see thy shame,
Thy disgrace’s effect is to make thy self fairer;
And so, wilt thou be as guilty as thou art guilty?
But my hope is thy hope that I might be a good,
But thou art my hope and I am so wretched.
“So true I am, O thou, who havest me a part,
That my false self, my self being my self,
And I the false self the self I belong
Of every one, that no part knows,
Who thinks this in me, so thy beauty doth express.
‘I’ll teach you all the things that you learn;
And by the way, if thou art in a state of youth,
Do not think you ever did teach me what I have learned.
‘But my dear friend, if you can,
I’ll take care that I should not have to spend so much,
That to spend in hours of hours of hours
My dear friend, if you can, let me stay so long.
‘You can never love me without being in love,
And yet it is a fact of love that you should spend;
But I do not love you, nor need you if you are with me,
When all the outward means are to your liking;
But then, love, you have a defect in me,
And then you must die, and I must live
In your love, that I shall still have, and live in you:
Love can never die, and love is not

======== CHECKPOINT 031 OUTPUT # 004 ========

And when he saw her she did his wonted will;
In his face he took his garment,
Like a maid in his own bath,
Who would, as she urg’d, catch him by the boot.
‘Lo, for my sake, by thy Grace I’ll keep my tongue,
For thou dost keep my tongue from my sweet lips,
And give thy lips to the withering flower,
And poison me that with thy tongue kill I be,
‘Grief,’ quoth he, ‘can make thee a widow.
‘Yet I will bear thy name in love,
To make thy love sweet to my dear love,
To make thy love sweet, and then thee sweet,
To make my dear love to thee sweet and sour,
And to make thy dear love sweet again and again,
And again and again shall you live in grief,
And I thee sweet, but you to me you make,
Thou meurer than all, you do to me I owe.
‘But thou, what a cruel soul, to that cruel tongue
That by thy self I can call thee fair
Of all the world, of all the earth,
But as thy own being so great,
My self in thee did make it mine.
The sad part will not be remembered:
My self now in me is my self,
Where I am not my self nor canst thou me see
How this is a shameful age;
What in thee is in thyself so shameful
That I can not praise thee so far?
O, in thy self beauty had I seen
What was in thee was in thy own,
Which is so in thee is so shameful a crime:
Now thou wast with me so late, that thou hast late,
And now I am now late, and now my shame is strong
And my grief stronger than ever.
‘Lo here we have this, Collatine:
Here it says, she is not a citizen,
Not in public of love, but is but a prisoner,
In her fair bed, where the poor widow lays,
Her poor eyes that look upon this poor widow are full;
So do they with such abhorrence find me:
Even though I did love her, though she never see me,
I’ll not be revenged on her by such a deed,
The worse is when I should be revenged on her by:
And yet there she is with weeping, but she sits still
Like to watch the tears spill from her cheeks,
Whose tears that have spent her blood are no more:
And, seeming at once to give, she throws them away.
“But now she would not hear me,” quoth she, “this time of mine
Thought I told you all this time, but I can tell no,
For thou shouldst tell her all now, that I said this.”
And thus she tells him, “Look!” she will not say:
‘For that I love thee dearly, for my sake I’ll lie,
And now my loving love, my loving love, will lie,
Then thou shalt betray my love.
Yet in her grief-stricken voice, as she did say,
She shakes her glass, she shakes her handkerchief,
She speaks with soft, yet harsh words;
And in her soft handkerchief her glass was,
And in the soft handkerchief was her eye,
Which in her glowing eye, so bright,
She sees the sun, the moon, the stars,
And the earth; the earth, which on the hills she walks,
May not know what she sees nor what she feels.
Therefore, as she hears these words,
She shakes her glass, and she cries: “Thy eye, thy eye,”
And then all at once she sets her hand upon the fire
As the spring cools and melts the ocean:
The ocean gives heat and cold water,
And as the summer cools, so cool the ocean.
‘Tis not enough to make me tremble;
For I must persuade thee of my love’s absence,
And in my tears should you behold,
O that thou mightst be as loving as thou art,
And mayst desire that thy love should live;
Then for me, you shall live in my sorrow:
For thou, thy name is my love, and thy life shall live.
Love, what a lovely picture of beauty
Hath I been, and thou art, it is enough.
What a strange kind of love, that love which hath grown
The more, the farther I have been from thee:
And to thy advantage did I keep the way
So I kept the thing in mind.
‘”Now for a minute or two I hear you say,
And yet no one can make

======== CHECKPOINT 031 OUTPUT # 005 ========

ussian to have no other pleasure,
Nor pleasure with my love to do him injury.
Thou dost not love, but thou hast had a taste,
And have had it as much as I have,
If thou dost not love, and thou dost have it for me.
“O, good old me! thou hast my grace,
My life to cherish, my love to lose;
And that my life is as sweet as thy youth;
That youth shall mine own life, mine own sorrows,
And thy death’s grace with that life may live.
‘But as in the old days my lips were black and white,
And blacker than before,
As I now am, and then as I was:
For I know not what wrong I have committed
Under what name, for my self or my love;
But sometime I shall be revenged on thee,
Though guilty before all men have been,
And never shall I be free again till my love is revenged,
Or at last the first of thy guilt.
‘”The hour comes, where they may behold the fair queen
From the wood of the valley of Tarquin to where she lies,
Whose white was so lovely as snow and snowless:
They see her weeping, and yet no one to kiss her.
‘Let that be thy theme, thy music in mine:
If thou wilt have me wrong, let the day begin anew,
From the time of thy youth to the time of my death.
In this last shall thy beauty shine;
In thy sweetly painted verse art shown
O more than can be imagined, for thou hast not yet begun,
What a lovely world thou canst bear!
“The night shall seem unto thee so great,
In thorns, weeds, bushes, and creeping things that do not flower,
That they should be seen as white as night;
Such things as these seem to be my favourites,
And, like a bird, must sing to that which it knows.
For if thou art born and have a son,
And then love, I must my love make,
And then my son’s name may have another name,
To him he may boast, and never live again;
And this I did answer in a most simple heart:
And my love is but one that knows love,
So should that love itself be called an urn,
So should love’s eternal contents be emptied,
Or will remain, as it were, as a hollow,
And have no living breath to smell,
Save the most modest objects that have breath.
The roses, though leaves black, their lusty green,
With fresh leaves so strong is their beauty,
And for their pure, their sweet-green, so sweet are they.
‘That thou shalt make all my love so strong,
I must thee be thy muse,
Since no one will say to thee so:
I must thou be thy muse in all my woes,
And do thy will bestow this, on the self that will bestow.
That I love my self, and do thy will bestow
This in all thy pure heart, to make thee my muse,
To make thee my good muse, to make thee my true muse,
To make thee mine true friend, my true friend’s muse,
As one that hath his eye, but no mind,
To kiss and fondle my sweet lips with your arms:
I was so proud, and such pride I have,
That I should lose all my love for ever:
‘For being a slave to a love my love,
And to be subject unto another’s abuse,
But being free of my love’s abuses,
And having none of their faults, to be subject
To a kind of bondage to another’s abuse.
How could I in your fair city in my heart,
Have any reason whatsoever to object,
When I was so bound in your honour?
The old is dead, and the young is never:
What reason of your kind did I give,
To lend you an argument which was so lame?
Or do you suppose I did my good to convert
To your image by your deed?
If, in your image, I did convert
Thou mayst make more of me than thou wilt,
So my self may be a more true star,
Then my self must be a pure soul and my self a pure star.
“That thou mightst seem so kind, I will not force thee
to be so kind; but if I may, so will I be thy slave,
And my slave, when thou shalt show me thy love.
As I was a prisoner with thieves,
And with all my might with thy help I die,
And this I dare not tell thee shall be said,
If in

======== CHECKPOINT 032 OUTPUT # 001 ========

305 to obtain; for there was in them an abundance that was much greater than ever before seen.
But she had more than desire, and was unwilling,
But at last was overcome and beguiled.
‘What shall I say, that thou art dead, or that I am,
And yet to-morrow I live and thou stay,
For nothing else will say that thou art gone,
Then I shall die and be buried in the land of your
Affection, my love, my husband.’
Then did the golden rose fly,
And from the burning mountain, like a feather doth fly,
Like a dove doth flit through the night,
When her lover’s orb doth appear,
He that doth love her so, so long have I been in love with her,
Since they both died when they were both dead,
Even as they both in thy hand love, so in mine do I stay.
‘Let the world be praised, but let not praise the author
Of this vile wrong: she will see the end,
But when it is she that the slander should seem,
She will be praised, not her own judgment.
‘”The wise, gentle, and well-perfected,
That to be admired is to be put to use,
Thou art the beauty of me, but not of him.
What art thou worth to men, that thou shouldst not have me?
Thou art worth nothing in love, yet not love,
That I have not sought, nor loved not thy grace,
My love is to thee, as thy father was for me,
Thy worth is not to me, but thy beauty.
In this false thought is my dear love
Found, in thy false modesty,
Which thou shouldst believe to be true,
Though thou shouldst believe false modesty to be true.
My dear love, mine is not the same,
as thou art, that my love must be;
Thy beauty’s true form, which thou shouldst prove
Towards thy beauty’s decease, with no false excuse;
And, being a man, I couldst be false and use
False chastity and oath to prevent thee:
And now thou wilt seem a fool if thou be not bound,
That I did, to show thy virtue to me;
But now thou wilt seem a fool if I am not bound,
Thou wilt say so, but I know not what thou mean,
Who, being dumb, makes it more fair
Than being dumb when thou art dumb.
Then he that was once with her,
By the power of thy beauty, by thy virtue
Had her by his side, his by her side;
And she, feeling herself be wooed,
Grew so mad, that she began to sing:
“Sweet Muse, you should have gone home again,”
‘Tis true; but to you I swear by the truth,
No such thing as that did come,
To me that you should bear it upon your own tongue.
‘But she, a woman as gentle and kind
As the young maid she seemed, and her eyes bright,
As if she were dancing with the sun,
Making the fire burn faster, but melting faster still.
“Then thou wilt be dead; thou wilt be alive; thou wilt be alive;
Thou wilt die; and yet thou art alive,
For thou art dead, and yet thou art alive.”
That thou didst survive, that thou couldst survive
In her sweet verse, thou wilt have no further to say.
Thou wilt live, but not for my sake,
Thy love’s dead, and thy love’s living,
Thy love’s living, and my love’s living.
And now he makes a question
Of his love that she so lov’d:
She loves him so, he she is,
And she cannot help but say that his love
Was so strongly tied in her mind,
That no help could stop his moans:
Her sweet heart, which, now broken, bids her heart
Receive him; and then she shakes her head,
And as he is about to kiss her,
She replies by saying she will not say,
But she knows that he is angry, and that he doth kill her;
She tells him to put a kiss upon his cheek,
That might be so sweet a kiss.
‘If it be lawful, let it be;
Let it not be, if it be forc’d,
That thy body’s part is kept away;
Thou art an impediment;
If the force be too great, it is never left.
Thou wast married to be, and yet thou dost be,
But thou dost never be married to

======== CHECKPOINT 032 OUTPUT # 002 ========

His pale visage was like that of a pale maiden,
That from the violet of his pale cheek
Some faint hue might shine forth,
And the birds’ feathers might glow forth like new fire,
Though no true angel with true light,
To sing in the night’s fire of his glory:
A thousand fair beauties do lie dead,
Which should their deaths bring forth new life.
“Thou art, O love, the strongest,
Which can not break; if thou break, then all is mine.
‘Thou art, O love, the stronger; if so, then all is mine.”
‘Then say thou the truth: it is better to speak than to say
That my life was short, then all my pain was,
For now is my love gone and spent;
And tomorrow the last, I in the dark
Comes the painter’s shadow; but as for me
That shadow I in this painting dwell,
In all my painted lines I can write,
For I see you are as I am when you are.
‘And now this she bids me kiss: the handmaid’s hand,
With such gentle tender touch she gives me
a kiss which shall never be broken,
No matter how much of thee there is;
No matter how long it is.
This was my duty to make my excuse
As soon as I could for his pleasure;
Then with thy help I’ll give a more happy excuse.
She tells him this, and then proceeds to sing;
And as he looks upon her, she is overcome
With fear, rage, or sorrow, like those
Of princes and of kings; for these passions are often set
Against his affections, and with him
His most heinous foes; though they prove harmless.
‘Poor poor creature,’ quoth she, ‘it hath never troubled thee
Thrice yet hath it troubled thee more.
‘And now thy fair love hath a semblance,
Whereat she hath a look, that hath not seen him here,
But where the sun hath hid his face and shadow;
Whose shadow is so much greater than thy breast,
So in the beauty which thou iniquest so doth live.
And so she doth take up the latch of his ear,
And calls forth thy breath; and now he calls it
Whence it come, as he takes the bath,
Or like to a beggar, the smell is strong,
And to those poor creatures that eat by night,
Dost thou steal the rich chaste drops that are thine.
His cheeks are full of red, and red with blood;
And from his bare chest his pale fingers doth hang;
With one of them, in his long purple hair,
Gazeth the bird from which he flies:
His lips are red as snow; and he is afraid of birds;
And as his lips are red as snow,
His eyes like a red-painted dove stand before him;
His hair doth hang back like a mourning dove,
and the thought is to hang upon it,
That by hanging upon it the dove might see;
Which from thence, loathsome, as it flew away,
Thrice ensign of that white which doth hang there.
When by chance she sees him, she drops his chin;
Then the door of heaven opens in his face,
And there he, on a wave, quakes and goes;
In the midst of all that is, he hears her complaining,
And he, in despair, looks for her;
And thus begins the night, so long as he sleeps,
That she cries out her woes and bids them wake again;
In another hour, in another way, she runs,
And from that distance she is blindfolded,
Until, having fled with him, she hears her neighing;
But in her heart she fears not:
She knows not how he will rob her again:
She takes him to a brook where she lies:
The brook being open, he doth look:
A nurse’s blue, with red-painted lips,
Sings sweet Lucrece’ love to him, and he kisses her;
And all this, quoth she, she is afraid,
He is afraid of her too;
She is afraid of him too, too strongly;
She is afraid of him, too strongly.
“Where is he that doth lie?” quoth she, “his neck is sore,
His chin is sore, his chin is sore;
His eyes are bright green, his lips red, his chin is red.
How many of you have seen him in his fair,
That by thy blood so much of the earth hath been,
With the most gentle breath that ever was spread,
And the most

======== CHECKPOINT 032 OUTPUT # 003 ========

assy was never in favour of it, and it did not seem so at all
Against him, that he was so unwise,
As Tarquin did woo her with such a kiss;
She rose from her horse and went,
With loud cheers and cheers to the fire.
Then he would give her a kiss, and she would hold it for him,
And then the same thing might be said,
In love, she would say, as the sun is wont;
But she might not say, in love,
At all, for his sake, and for her own sake.
“Here it goes,” quoth she, “this stone is,
A stone that no human heart can remove,
And therefore I leave that which is sacred,
Whose power to control our destinies,
And for your sake will I leave to your leave.
When this is done, let it seem strange,
As a painter makes a painting;
To me, the true picture should prove,
To every creature that sees it.
And this in thought to my heart a stranger mind,
Who would write in a book what he saw?
And yet I would not the same,
As if it were the thought that made him think it;
And therefore it is with some strange fear,
Who hath the thought to make his mind mad,
And all his thoughts, which do as he would,
To that thought, seem to him, by it he may find;
Yet, as they all did their thoughts seem,
Each one, like one, to each part,
The other to their part, in this new creation,
As he in one, to the parts was added.
‘”Why,’ quoth she, ‘is this verse so poor,
That some in their rude state,
That they not only sing, but to a certain tune
Comes this to those in their rude parts:
“Poor maid, how sweet is thy moan
To know thyself is dead and gone,
Who lives, but dies by what he hears thee tell,
Like an actor in a play;
When the boar with the boar’s horns hears thee,
Sings with the wind that the storm’s crest lies.
“That false, untimely tempest which thy fire doth pollute
May destroy, the sweet, to-morrow’s tempest!
That sad night when the stars have begun
To dance in the dimness of their glory,
Which from their high vantage in the night,
Are so faint in their majesty that they cannot see
What they aspire to.
But all the night’s day comes to an end, and night
His heavy night’s proudest hours lie,
Doth stay still at the gate till he come to daylight;
Wherein he falls, and wakes again.
And as soon as he wakes she starts a little;
When her eyelids were open he gave a light
And winked, as if in amazement,
To heaven in spite of the stars’ view;
For heaven sees none, nor yet no heaven sees,
Even in heaven’s shadow heaven’s shadow sees nothing,
Nor heaven’s shadow there sees nothing but hell,
When he looks upon the dead, and his eyes
As they are dead, so they are alive,
And hence, he is again his prey,
Where in heaven’s judgement he looks, and then he thinks,
Which is the fault of all men’s deeds,
The sin of all his shame,
The guilt of all his sorrow,
And all his honour for that which he is proud.
The painter’s face, which she saw on her face,
She was so engrossed in her own picture,
She did not look upon it as she did her,
But as a part, painted in her face,
As in her own being.
Her heart-strings twined to each other to form a gazelle,
Or to hang like a boar in the spring,
Or to hunt like coyhus,
Or play like a boar with the bushes,
Or like the hedge-hogs with the roses.
But my heart did as much as the ocean doth mix,
Mine own contents would mine own contents impart,
And in mine own store would those contents come,
From whence it could be converted to use,
Or for my self I to be my own storehouse,
To be of one, one to many.
‘Look how my sweet boy, with his father’s sword,
Tells his wife that he was his husband;
To whom her pleading cries sent th’ unrest,
And to his cries, so her husband’s anger.
The day doth not do justice to a widow,
She doth not do justice to the widow,
She doth not do justice to

======== CHECKPOINT 032 OUTPUT # 004 ========

amped of my spirit,
But I can neither do nor keep,
Like a wolf that preyeth to a wild boar,
To do it on my command, like a hunted boar that hunts tame deer.
Now I see, my love doth wrong,
And as she seeks him, his tears seem white,
Which she to a kiss will have him forget,
Even as she doth kiss his cheek.
“So sweet of you to lend me a hand,
Though I have done much to please you, yet you still am my
Fair, though it be a counterfeit,
When all is said and done, your sweet semblance still
Shows thee as one in thee, that didst make
my hand the first, the second the other.
So may it seem, then, I am not a man,
Nor am I your love, but your life,
Wherein my life was born your love,
In mine as in yours in them was born,
When their love had done them both good,
Both were in me their good.
“For my sake I have to do thy will,
And I will tell thee mine will, thy will to obey;
My will, mine own, and thy will’s good;
But thou dost destroy my will, my will is free,
And my will not thy will, my will that was never
Let loose the will I have, to make your will free;
My will be the will of your will that my will free will.
O, for thy will, I will not take;
I will not hold you ransom in ransom,
For thou shalt return, and I will not ransom.
‘So did she kiss him, and that he did shake her hand.
“Sweet sweet love,” quoth she, “all this is mine,
Which in your absence is mine power,
that you to me by your wills lend me;
By this I shall have a right to say my words,
The better of thee to me is in me.
‘My will,’ quoth she, ‘can not be converted,
By this your will is not me converted,
But your will is my will, your will is mine,
And I shall make you free again, and you free again.
‘O be of my will, O my will!
My will is as one and as one,
Each part is one, and each part is one;
All my parts with you in you are one;
Then would I kiss you, and your lips would kiss me,
O what love would not do!
The ocean would not sink, nor heaven so warm;
His hand would not be touched by it,
The wind would not blow his wings,
Or the birds would not fly away,
But Lucrece would call him king and say that he had slain
All the birds that he had sent out of the way.
“O, you can’t see what lies in store of a foe
For fear of your own life, the worst enemy to come:
The weak being forced to kneel,
But strong men be kind to their strength,
And to their strength so do weak men kneel,
The coward being put to flight,
And, being put to flight, be afraid of your own;
The brave being given a stern chastisement;
So is Lucrece’ father, who is the reason,
for fear of the world’s spoil,
That his son, now with his strong arms,
With all his strength doth mingle;
And now, having laid down his hope
To be rid of him, it is enough;
Thou mayst be his treasure, and mine thy treasure,
And my will that he mine to have this treasure.
O do not hold the dear friend so dear,
That he might kiss her again, as if he were mine.
O, when thou art gone, thou shalt never see me again,
To keep this secret for my sake,
Thou art the good of all men,
And all men’s shame shall not stain mine.
“O, love! be gentle and kind,
And be kind and gentle, and be kind,
And be kind and gentle, and be kind,
And be kind and gentle, and be kind, and be kind,
And be kind and gentle, and be kind,
And be kind, and be kind, and be kind, and be kind,
And be kind and gentle, and be kind, and be kind,
And be kind, and be kind, and be kind, and be kind, and be kind,
And be kind, and be kind, and be kind, and be kind, and be kind,
And be kind, and be kind, and be kind, and be kind,
And be

======== CHECKPOINT 032 OUTPUT # 005 ========

anything that man can borrow from thee, if thou art so kind,
The sooner he will be contented, the sooner he will borrow.
So thou must be my debtor, and it is my debt,
Thou are my friend, and my friend’s friend;
So too I am my friend, and my friend’s friend’s friend.
“Where is thy father,” quoth she, “that hath taught thee so?
What a shame it shall be, to die before thy father’s time?
Tears, grief, woe, sorrow, death! O how thy tears shall stain his face?
Why are thy cheeks like ashes?—these foul things thou shalt never see,
They are as pearls to glass, if they should turn out,
That will never mend, and they will not mend again:
For love is not a glass, nor a crystal crystal;
It is like a glass, but a stone, a substance
of dullness, as crystal glass is;
Which on it cannot but appear,
Thy self so immured in her being.
“Lo, behold, the silver chain is no longer tied,
The red diamond will break down.
If we die, why not our father,
He hath his fair fair child, he did kill.
If we live, he did kill us,
And we were both guilty of murders committed.
‘”So this man, in this cave, doth steal thy bed-key;
He is as hard labouring for labouring,
That the hot breath will not burn him so,
And the cold breath will not smother him so,
To make him think he lives and dies soon;
But if he live long, his will is done;
He is slain, and the cold breath that it yields
will soon cure him, and it doth stay.
“So I will go forth and kiss her lips,
And sometime sometime kiss her cheeks, as often as I like,
To kiss her hand, and say some gentle thing;
Then sometime, as the hot fire that burns in her eyes,
Than when the fire burneth with the sun, I may do
my self, too strong to abide it,
And die, in her being afraid, and her being strong.
‘My love, what’s wrong?—how, that’s true—
Then what’s true is false? ‘O, I must confess—
My love, if thou art strong, how strong I am;
That’s true, too strong a strong hand to hold me
In my arms I love; and that’s true, too strong a strong hand to keep me.
She saith: “O poor fool! thou wilt be so wise,
As thou art that thy dear friend to me steal,
That I should not be thy friend again.”
And she throws the note in his hand,
And when she sees him read, and thinks what he must say,
With trembling fear she looks up her eyes,
And exclaims, “He’s dead! he’s dead!”
O, how could they not die, when their parts were alike?
How could they not fall upon each other’s wounds,
When they so much alike with one?
And yet how did they not fall, when they were two again?
“Thou hast made my life a life of bondage,
To kill, to steal, and to kill again!
‘My life was life’s ransom; my life was death’s ransom;
And life, which in itself gave life,
By the power of thine, thy self made it forfeit.
And this, that did she fear so,
To tie herself, that to thee was done.
She that she had control, must herself be free,
Thy servile hand, which is in bondage,
For thou hast the power to set the law in motion.
She that hath control, must herself be free,
Thy servile hand, which is in bondage,
For thou hast the power to set the law in motion.
‘That thou art the only slave which I have,
I will beg pardon of my offence
For thou shalt bear the guilty guilt,
And do good to me as thou hast done to me.
‘And therefore in his fair face stood the painter
Whose black brow, like a man’s, with black bristles
And violet veins ran forth from his chin,
Whilst his face did all the silver and black,
And all the golden, in proportion
As the earth itself gave silver and gold.
‘O, that thou must art, I would not,
Nor thou alone, but with one I trust
To have the sweet things in thee.
That’s what I would say, and I would say it to you.
And when he had said it, she

======== CHECKPOINT 033 OUTPUT # 001 ========

collaborators be the same, that he make them a king.
In these things he gives but a general theme;
As the ocean, the fountains of his glory,
Pleads the ocean with his majesty;
Then by her grace, in her high respect,
She gives him honour with new flowers,
And she a place of beauty,
And a place of beauty still.
I saw the wayward lamb on the grass,
Where once he had fled from herd,
Now fearfully in his white cloister,
To chase the wolf, that he might tame the lamb.
‘”Thus they ride in me, as in a herd,
And thou, my love, will lend their arms a hand;
And to thy fair breast do they sing,
And in the quiet of their breast,
They do them welcome and greet in delight.
So thou mayst seem to my eyes this day to show me
The days that my life is spent in vain,
For thou, that which lives and breathes,
In thy love is my life, and thou this dead.
The poet’s note was to me a kind of verse:
‘”Thus many a year from now, when they did come,
I will be nothing but the sun,
And they the earth with me are their ashes.
‘Therefore thou gav’st me not this ill,
But thy self to me was good;
Thy self to me is worse, and my self to thee worse.
When thou dost divide, then canst thou divide aught;
Love conquers all.
She hath, I have seen thy face painted,
Beauty in thy hand, beauty in his breast.
‘This thought,’ quoth she, ‘indulge me with the words;
O thou wilt see what it am I will do!
For beauty doth desire nothing;
But love is iniquity, lust iniquity lust,
But beauty is of such an abuse,
That thou canst not make love:
When beauty hath a fairest face to burn,
I will show thee thy folly by thy art,
And say in the deep of mine heart,
Thy love’s foul deed, thy love’s true injury,
Thy true shame, thy true slander;
Thou art of such foul intent, that thou bequeath’st to me
A thousand proud trophies that mine eyes crave.
‘”Lo, as she looks upon him from all sides,
He ducks to one side and to the other.
“Let us get together, and there we are,
As we should have left our friends together,
In arms, in arms’ hooks, and legs,
Shook in thy heart-strings, and in thy lungs;
What are those hearts to thee, that I might not despise?
What are those lips that never could have writ?
what did not lips say, in truth say,
“Be kinder, and kinder will your looks do;
For in thy heart’s content is life and health;
And in my heart’s content is hate and hate’s decay.”
Then would she say, ‘My sweet lover, if this should be so,
Then love and death will be tied in one,
That one death, and one life, will make love stay.’
O how love is not to be blamed!
What is love made for, to be revenged?
Who, being so much wounded, must die for it?
What is love made for, not to be revenged?
What is love made for, to be buried alive?
What is love made for, to die, to live?
What is love made for, not to be buried alive?
When love, or else, for that matter, dies,
How can a son or daughter be born,
when their own death be so great,
Yet no such thing could be said?
‘Now there lives a son who dies in his father’s bed.’
‘Yet,’ quoth she, ‘these times I have sworn,
Of those that I have never known I did swear,
And now behold the sickly eye of their king!
So can I, for my love’s sake, bewitch
Those that in my shame have died and are living!
That they still in this sad state,
That in thee have all the guilt, still in this sad state
Of all my love, I can bear, and love shall bear none
Which is not love’s, but lies in thy parts:
Thy self, being thy self, I shall use to make thee,
Thy self, being thy self, thou wast my self,
Thy self, thou art my self, and thou art my self,
Yea, thou art my self, and thou art my

======== CHECKPOINT 033 OUTPUT # 002 ========

humorous when she was dead; nor have I any pleasure from the time since.
“It was a sad time for a woman to die,
That my love might ever thrive,
That I might live again in him again,
That I might live to see his dead,
And to see his spirit return again in me.
“In vain, my soul, for thy sake forsake me,
And to love thee I will give up thy self;
Till all my best may iniquity, still remain my love:
And, true to my love, in thy will, I will show thy face.
A thousand wrinkles will be left in my brow,
But true, this poor antique will live
In this stain the shame of every other,
Who to me, as his will, as his will’s heir,
Are as the birds from a songcage take,
Or the swan from a river feed,
Or the lark from an autumn’s day,
But all these I dally to show,
Thy self to thine own sake be forgot;
for I was thy self, and thine self thy self.
And now in that image have I made rhyme,
As in his name Tarquin’s painting on fire.
So then I may be of comfort to thee,
As well as thou, with mine, with mine alone.
And now thy praise will be mine own,
And I alone shall be of thy honour to bear.
“So may I be of thy help to his pleasure,”
“No more,” quoth she; “not for thy sake,
But for your sake, for mine own sake,
And for his sake for all his sake:
For I to be of thee, you, now are my self,
Then to be you were thy self, and now is my self:
I thy self, your own and your self’s slave,
For thou to be of me thou shouldst betray me.
‘O, madam,’ quoth she, ‘why hast thou come to steal my life?
I did not make thee lie in wait,
But sometime in the night, as you have desired,
To take advantage of thy leisure:
Or sometime at the very very same time,
To steal away my pleasure, my pleasure’s expense.
“Now is the twain at last quite past,” quoth she, “
And in the midst of their fighting,
Their green arms do dart their way,
And each side do bashfully hang their tails
And, like balls that might be broken from their being,
Or balls, of steel that cannot break from their being.
If thou mayst not wilt fight, thou wilt not win;
But if thou mayst survive, let not the night
Be forsworn to me the light that shall bestow thee
Of that sweet sweet which thou dost dote in thine eye.
Thus I fearfully sigh and sing,
By thy sweet words and gentle words to my heart’s woe.
‘Now,’ quoth she,’some maid of your kind
I taught to play the part, and you to be the field,
The groom would wear his cloak;
And my self to be your self should not be removed:
The self I have, your self to be free:
Now what shall I be of your self if thou art gone?
‘Then why dost thou look back, till thou shouldst be gone?
Hearing thee, I shall have thee dead.
And what a wretched slave shall thy spirit make of thee,
That shall feed the sick, and cure the ill?
When thou wast a child, why art thou then?
And all those in thy womb are diseased
That thou mayst thrive, and not die,
Being but a feeble shadow of thee.
The world hath seen, and it hath sworn
That all kinds of sin are with him confined:
And with this oath he gives: ‘Thou wast an infant,
My husband my love, my dear love.’
That to her she shakes, and she cries,
That she did so, and therefore I am thy husband.
‘This was thy husband’s name, and you his;
This was his beauty, and mine yours his;
I would have sworn to love you, and sworn that you did love me.
Thou wouldst make me a son of his, and be your father’s wife:
That is what I am, you me, and him me;
Yet if I be dead, then thou wilt live, and he live.
‘And this she says she hears the music of the birds,
And in the distance the birds sing;
And it shall not be forgotten, nor never again
Doth sing, that Tarquin made me.

======== CHECKPOINT 033 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Integration in the city of Rome, to this is set their name,
And to this they will prove right, their fame,
To this honour the rich in this fame of fame,
Which they have in themselves the power,
To make the world’s worst worse, the world’s greatest,
With nothing but their labour to make the good worse.
The present I make my bed of thee,
Since thou shalt make my death my delight,
And thine own honour, to be revenged of thee.
‘”And in thy midst are many, that by thy deeds
Some might well have told your disgrace,
And others for fear of my well-doing.
The dead that they saw so often in the night,
They would have sworn they saw thy smiling face,
Like a pale and wistly youth that seems so old,
To shame your dead friend’s death so well.
‘So when they came with the rest in haste,
Their handkerchiefs dangled precariously,
And as they did, their handkerchiefs did flatter,
like golden plumes that burn in summer’s light.
As for the rest, their grief was much greater,
Than their desire to give their love a rest,
So did I, when I was first brought up,
My love for her grew stronger than I was,
And my love for my love’s sake grew stronger.
So they are they both, and each part makes a different,
Where the other’s advantage falls, each part doth gain
His advantage, for it did not win his gain.
And in the absence of love,
Thine own self in me is thine own prey,
And mine in thee is thine own self in me.
Yet when the present is done, thou dost break,
And thou wilt be revenged of my death.
And as thou shalt be gone by death,
My self thou dost rob this world of my love,
In thee thou shalt be revenged of my dead love.
Then the better that my image may not be,
With all my living parts, with all my love,
When all your parts must remain, this verse is,
When thou art done, I will stop,
And live in thee; and when thou art done,
Then for ever, O thou living poet, I will sing,
As many a chorus of thine own praises in thee,
And thou to me to your living songs may well seem:
Since you, whose music I was made with,
I was their painter, and all your music
Made my verse your own, and my fame your fame.
‘Since thou art the same,’ quoth she, ‘I will be revenged,
And die before thou my self in my verse,
And live my verse in thy self dying in me.
And in thee do I live all that I do live,
That thy self dies of your self-love;
And thus do I, and all in this I do live,
And live to die another’s death,
Thou art not to be my revenge against me;
And for this I crave your love,
Thy love, thy love shall never be my end.
And why should that be so?
This is my wish, O, and in my mind
All my thoughts to your pleasure are to be held.
And, in this wish, some shadow, some effect of light,
Shook the dim orb whereon he stood,
And after he had seated himself,
The poor creature rose, and in the distance
The dim orb began to glow;
But a shadow, that did not seem bright,
Then began the flame to boil again.
“Lo, sweet Venus,” quoth she, “how will it please thee,
If thou wilt write what I say,
How will it please thee if I say,
A certain man hath come here and hath bathed his face,
And all praise, and all respect and all praise
That thou hast in thy heart.
This is a truth, and this truth is false.
This is not so; for this reason I desire thee,
Till I hear this, and yet thou shalt not hear,
Thy love I have not, yet shall never be
A god to thee, and yet thou art my love.
Look how thou dost rob the sun, whom thou dost love,
As he, though he rob’st the sky, yet thou dost keep,
Because thou art thy self, and not to be so,
Because thou art thy self and not thy self,
O, how canst thou be such a fool?
Thou dost so abhor my love, and yet thou dost laugh
Thy love so, that thou wilt laugh

======== CHECKPOINT 033 OUTPUT # 004 ========

Of a pure mind that would not break away
To dwell in a senseless grave,
To shun the cold dead and dwell in a doting lover,
That from me their blood may be shed
When death will give their souls place, and life may live
In thee alone.
‘For thou wast my mistress, thy heart, my womb,
My womb to thee, and my sweet womb for thee.
“Where’s this poor old woman, with such pale skin,
As thou so well knows, dost thou lie still?
What didst thou dost make a king do?
Thou art the captain in this war;
What’s more, it seems to be a false shame;
That thou shouldst be king in this false doom.
‘O, look what we gain through theft and treason!
Thy self-same body hath done thee this unfair favour,
Whose guilt thou shouldst bear and bear it all by.
But thy self iniquity must be thy husband’s end;
And therefore, that he should die, and not live,
As to have his own heir be the widow’s husband.
But this, that the shame and grief of thy shame,
That thou this shame should such a curse be,
That for all thy woe is done with thy name disgraced,
For all thy woe my name’s stain is done with thy fair,
I the best of all my merit is thy fair,
And that I thee in this show of dishonour,
That I myself am both better than you are.
“But thou art as good as the rest of the world,
as much the more so for our taste.
I have found thee, so to speak, to be
The best and fairest for your taste,
Thy sweet love’s sweetest flower bestow’d from thy hive,
And every nectar sweet to taste from thy tongue,
And every smell from thy lips most strongly commended,
O what a sad hour it was, to taste thee so well!
And what a wretched look it would have upon me!
‘Now,’ quoth she,’my love, when I hear you complain,
I hate to see you live; but it is no crime to weep,
For one minute my love must live and all eternity shall pass.
‘This, too, is my heart’s command;
To do the deed of thy office shall be thy leisure.
And from her pale breast I see two eyes
Of silver-tongued beauty, gazing on thee with wary eyes.
If I behold their sad faces with the double eye,
If I behold their red cheeks with the white,
If I behold their long black hair, their silken lips,
If I behold their pale, round face, their round, long black,
The two with white would no love,
Thou dost hate, the one with red, the other with blue.
She with white, with red, and with short,
They both with short, and they both with long:
And for her, the white seemed like a cloud,
And her eyes were pale with sorrow, her eyes like stars;
Their mouths, their wills, their wills were mute;
All were dumb, but no brain;
The one could think but what he thought;
He did not think the other as he was,
The other as he was.
If the painter be mute, his art be mute.
‘What art thou art when thou art all but painted?
‘What art thou when thou art all but carved?
‘And what art thou when thou art all but painted?
What art thou when all that is art hath been done?
The painter then painted, and thou done.
‘And yet the workmanship and skill
Of all his actors so much better attains,
Than thou that he hath cast out of the way.
‘Now my life’s fair, fair flower, what waste is
Of time’s precious time wasted, the time spent?
Where have I lived, when your eyes did see,
When you in your beauty have done me good,
When you in my beauty, do I not see you ill?
What is the time spent in your mind when your face lies,
when your sight in my sight is not even so,
When in my sight your picture is full and happy?
When your mind is full, what are your thoughts,
O, where is my true sight when my eyes look upon thee?
When your thoughts, your thoughts are full, what praise should I have,
When your thoughts are full, what praises should I have,
When your thoughts are full, what praises should I have,
When your thoughts are full, what praises should I have,
When your thoughts are full, what

======== CHECKPOINT 033 OUTPUT # 005 ========

1997 have a greater respect for thee.
‘Yet did not thou that which in thy part thou wilt dispraise;
Whose side shall the poor poor be for thy largess,
That all the wealth that belongs to thee in mine,
Should live on thee, and in me thou shouldst live.
‘For if you love me, love’s true suit is mine,
To use it for my own pleasure or for my own good,
Though I not to you be so blessed.
Since you shall live, mine life is death,
And my friend’s life is life’s death,
and that which you have is death’s own,
So my friend’s life is death’s own and mine.
‘For love is love, not murder.’
His lips are white, their lips red,
And all his voice so cold, so blunt,
That if the blows might bring forth their fire,
To heaven he would bequeath his mantle;
The burning sun would burn it out, and leave it in smoke;
That in this, like a smokeless city,
The poor were dead, and the rich fresh.’
So she, with his fair face,
And all his fair head round his fair head,
As if from some unseen hand had done it,
Or some invisible hand had done it
In some deep slumber of her soul’s blood.
That she did not take away with her tears,
She gave them again and again, and again,
And again, and again and again the song began.
He takes her by the hand, kisses her, and when he leaves,
To kiss her again, and again.
‘Thou art my nurse,’ quoth he, ‘and this I tell thee,
Thy husband’s death, thou art my husband.’
“My dear,” quoth she, “I do wish my daughter well;
Thy fault is my fault that thou dost lend me;
Thou art mine in blame that lends me this debt:
Thou art mine when the fault of my sins
Is my fault that thou dost lend my blood,
And thou dost lend me not thy self to forgive.
Thou art a murd’rous thief, a tyrant,
Shameful for his love, and for his disgrace;
Thy self as well as thy self is to blame.
What am I to do, that thy self with faults do lend
Thy self to be reproachful of thine own,
If thou do, my self with faults make thee repent:
In other words, if thou shouldst forgive,
Mine self to be reproachful of thine own,
Thy self be reproachful of mine own self;
And my self to be reproachful of my own,
Thy self be reproachful of my own self.
If thou wilt be my self, thou wilt be my love.
‘”What dost thou want to know?” quoth she,
She looks up at the sun, and says “That looks to heaven.”
“O beauteous goddess! what foul odour dost thou bear!
O beauteous goddess! what foul odour dost thou bear!
O beauteous goddess! what foul odour dost thou bear!
O beauteous goddess! what foul odour dost thou bear!
The first and second hisses in his hearing;
And then as she takes his breath, she doth commence:
The third he sighs, and then she doth commence:
She on the ground, and on his cheek;
The air to her lips was thick with her drooping:
All her white, all her wrinkles and filmy lines
Had been black as snow, like the stars in the sky;
They had painted the world in a dank, dim mire.
Her soft-bronze locks were as soft as ivory,
Like leaves that in thorns did cover their leaves.
But why have I left you, and are you still here?
And where is thy love, and where is it not being loved?
For thou wast sent unto the world to do my office,
To make love to me in your mind.
To do that, thou hast to do it alone;
For if thou wilt give this to one of mine,
Then in the course of thy part, some will praise thee.
‘Look,’ quoth she, ‘if thou wilt see these trophies,
And see all their trophies, and see they all painted;
Look what the jewels in thy arms
Look in the wide world which hath been made all too green.
To this, she replies, ‘When will I behold a king gone?
When will I see this king that hath writ all his name;

======== CHECKPOINT 034 OUTPUT # 001 ========

args for our present need;
This to him I am all but a silent,
Like a weak-flaming brook, where there is no noise,
Nor any part of thine to be seen.
This he will not, but will do, do, I’ll write,
And yet sometime I think I read what thou meanest,
That I must be gone with him thence,
For to do so thou art quite outcast.
He looks on her, and then he looks on his son,
The older being much happier than her;
The boy so much happier that she thinks he hath died,
Or he is so much happier, that she thinks he hath died.
Her brow quakes with rage; he doth blush and quiver,
That in her tears she did express,
That no one to reprove her may hear.
‘O that my son is dead, why weep,
Nor for that I weep for thy face?
To have him, why pray not,
For in him art thou slain?
What sorrow for him must I have,
For in him art thou my all?
No, I know, it is thy sweet self,
That thou dost lie in thyself to die,
For my self thy self, thy self’s self’s self,
What self thou art, what self dost thou art,
Thou art thyself all and all is thy self,
For in this self thou art all, but only in me.
‘Then for the first he calls out the name of his lord,
And now to his sweet, he calls in,
The name of a man he did convert:
He then in his full fury calls out the name
Of a slave and of a wife,
To hear her complain, and to give light
To the dark-hued night, and the pale-hued day.
His lordship on this occasion so call’d them
Till by the wind they could breathe again.
Yet their faces, as red as snow,
They seemed white as snow, and in them a mist
of fire and brimstone.
I cannot leave this, but the thought may prove
The very worst of all, and every thing is
safe to say is my friend.
‘This is not the last,’ quoth she; ‘all those tears
Which from thy fair breast I lent thee were gone,
And now my fair self hath expired,
And the very hairs on thee that had been lent thee,
Grew forth black, as the roses before had been,
In an image resembling her own,
The proud jewel in thy heart,
Who is so proud of such a proud name,
that thou, my friend, through thy self are proud.
She looks upon him, and then he looks upon her;
And on the lips of her lips, on his back,
Gripping the air that her lips breathe,
The blood that from her lips is being shed,
Showing that the breath of her love she bears is new,
She breathes, but then her lips break,
He, she, is gone.
So she with a sigh breaks from the bed,
And doth follow him through the streets,
Like a sad apparition moving in the air,
Whereat it seems to him to be a part,
Of her beauty, but now as the night falls,
He stops, still in his thoughts and to her eyes,
The poor birds shriek and sing: “O love, thy beauty lies still,
But that sweet air which we breathe, is no good;
Since breath the lungs do breathe,
The air that breathes in it, and we breathe again,
Is sweet and clean, but then no good,
No good, and that sweet air, that makes the smell,
Is no good, sweet air but it is no good.
“So,” quoth she, “how didst thou thus,
Sometime I was with the merchant,
And that man he had throned for me,
I had throned and throned,
Yet did not desire to touch him again.
‘How can I help thee, O comfort of heart,
That I cannot bear to think that you are sick?
How can I bear to think that you love?
What can I do but weep at my beloved?
But then I say that I will make thee my friend
And love you when I shall be dead.
And how can I tell you that I am no saint
When you have done such a wondrous thing
With my heart, with your eyes, with my mind,
And with your mind in your own bosom,
And with your mind in your own bosom in mine?
This is your love, this your reason, this your reason,

======== CHECKPOINT 034 OUTPUT # 002 ========

supernatural, and therefore did he entertain,
His jealousy at such a thing,
That it seems to her eyes it beholds,
As jealousy of fortune to the eye
With such fair creatures as men,
The stronger to fight back the weaker.
Then would her handmaid tell him she was not,
That he did enchant her cheek, that he did touch;
A kiss will never seem a kiss but a kiss,
Even when both kiss well, or as one kiss would be,
To each other’s heart’s bitter sigh.
For what then are you, that in your heart
Than in a world of sweets gives pleasure?
Love is the most excellent, and then most dear.
Her words to him are like a heavy gait,
With her arms folded over her head.
She begins, with a sound but little,
With a sigh, which seems to be her husband’s,
That she thinks his words are idle, or are sung by him.
She is all shook, as he now is,
For now we stand, and she is gone.
‘So she, the fairest woman in the world,
Upon the threshold, the burthen of a flower,
Pounding the berry with the tip of her head,
Like a dove, chirping, neighing with eager delight;
Whose cheeks are pale, her lips red, her face pitchy.
O then my darling sweet lord of love,
Even when thou wilt live, yet my love’s death,
To thee is my love’s death, my love’s life,
From where he will go, I never hear his name.
I shall die, and I die soon of sorrow,
And in thy name shall I make a pilgrimage.
To this purpose I answer;—”My love,” quoth she,
O gentle queen, thou shalt never be so modest,
“O no! thou dost mean it, but my tongue.”
“O,” quoth she, “it shall have thee sometime.”
“Now, mistress, this will be thy last;
You shall not say so; and then there thy love will say,
For love’s last, my love’s last, thy love’s last.
‘Tis true,’ quoth she, ‘this was said before;
That you that I love to write to you,
For what kind of note I write, you shall be,
How will you please me? but, no, my love shall not read,
For I love you by your death, and you by mine.
‘Thus doth he translate the following to me,
O, if you were to take away,
The story of my life, all the other,
And all the world in one,
So you will in me be a story told of love,
And all the world in one, and no story told at all
That was told in one or more.
The book I have in my hand shall be called,
My music, my stories, my loves, my days of love:
All I am in this world for love, my love loves to hear,
Love’s true self a stranger, in himself is found,
Yet the one false star that doth inhabit
All true and true, false and true, both seem both:
As when they read the rhyme of love’s day,
And as when they see the stars in the east
Their beauty doth so far exceed their size,
that we must be confounded with their faces,
That we cannot distinguish what is in them.
‘O, why not thy tears, and thy tears’s tip
Not in mine own, my tears’ eye?
The painter would not let thee stain thy painting;
But thou art in my verse, as the other,
Which is no good in the painter’s eye:
Nor I myself, my love’s child, being
Dressed in thy loving form, thou alone art better;
Thou art as thy self, in love to be.
He, the gilded herald, this false,
Grew up with his fair beauty, and by him descended
A true and virtuous prince,
Whose worth in thine own worth so fine be.
When he had seen his fair beauty in his fair face,
He smiled with admiration, and with proud gait,
He was quite well-advised to tell
The tale of his fair days, or to make a song;
When his fair beauty told of his days of love,
And of his fair times when they would be so brief,
Haply he gazed upon his fair beauty, and to-morrow
How he might live a fair, dignified life,
Being all that in thy picture were hid.
‘Twixt thee and me thou art but one;

======== CHECKPOINT 034 OUTPUT # 003 ========

ipt and cold.
‘But then,’ quoth she,’since they had died, how can I bequeath them to your love,
And that I am not to be your love?
I am to be your mistress; but in your absence
I was absent, and now thou shalt be my wife,
My mistress will be absent, thy husband my husband,
My husband thy mistress is but a toy,
Nor love, nor any friend with thee,
Nor husband, nor wife, nor child, nor name
But are thou mistress of all my needs and all my cares,
And mine own thoughts, their contents, my life,
And all their objects, do I not desire?
My whole self, and therefore not your will,
Be the cause that thou shalt keep me from that door.
‘And this, then, did I hear the trumpet,
Or I hear the note of some one else;
Which, like a ploughman’s wenge, would break from the wind,
To scratch the grass with his heavy scythe.
‘And now for the first time ever, my mind will have pause,
When I have told it no matter what;
For my mind knows no more than this, ‘gainst the world,
For mine own self there is nothing but loss.
“What if,” quoth she, “my father were dead?”
This question seemed to her a bit curious,
For the youth had been absent, and her father had been gone.
‘Tis true, Collatine, that Lucrece came to see thee,
And told her how to do good with that fair creature,
And made her the groom that sweet Lucrece was.
“No, no, dear boy, my love,
When all this was over, that beauty of yours,
So far away in thought is my love confined,
That from thee I cannot say, ’tis not mine.
Then will be no further to entreat,
Whilst you alone think of your sweet mistress to kiss.
“But how?” quoth she, “if thou wouldst go,
And come back sometime, by me I will let,
I will leave thee with Lucrece, and give thee my love.”
For sometime he hath strayed a foot,
And all his beauty gone, and all his grace gone.
“But how?” quoth she, “if he had been a son,
No man should give me that I need but look,
For beauty is sweet; but the gift is not,
And if he were a god, what a god should give me,
No one but I can show him how to be nice,
But you and I must be dear friends, and we must look,
Because if he are then you know what a good look he makes,
Love cannot be so dear to us,
As it is to him, we must give you such a look,
That he in thee, though not we all,
Grew to your love, though not to you,
In this self-love to myself,
I love thee so in your self that your pity
In my self, is yours so wide,
Even so, with that wide fair eye of mine
That I have to look on, you shall have to wait,
For I in thee this unfair day of yours,
And this unapproved fair day mine,
Will in mine own self kill each other so,
That mine own thoughts may be seen,
And thou alone, for that which thou makeest,
In my self, what’s mine is mine alone,
For what I myself, do strive to do,
To steal thy self away from thee,
And to steal thee all my own worth away,
And all my worth as well as thou art stolen,
If thou do this with mine own self,
I will not make a man my slave,
If thy self should steal me away from thee,
The thief will not rob me of thee,
But for my slave’s sake do as thou lov’st me do,
And all my fame will give you to my bed.
In this he lays on her the grave of one
That her heart may bear him out in her sight;
And he will then ask where she is,
And as the dead she will seem dead to him,
And her dead body the same to him she sings.
And this at last she says to him
In general, I’ll be your friend
When you are my friend in love,
and when you are in love in love
I’ll be your slave when you are yours,
And then thou shalt be my slave when I am yours.
“Well,” quoth he, “this is what you say,
O help me, it is for thee;
This is what

======== CHECKPOINT 034 OUTPUT # 004 ========

Settings in every way they seem, to your liking and your liking’s giving;
The worst of it is not to fear: but to delight, that may be so,
And be true to you, true still in me is true.
“So you were fair, sweet, and kind; so now you are dead;
Then were fair enough, and not so fair that your fair,
In all of beauty and good sense, so fair
That you should not blush, nor be offended,
To-day, that every where doth smile,
That you can find but praise your beauty.
Then the rich old, and the poor poor poor,
The rich in all, do you then view
Each thing in a certain light?
That you may be true in all your things,
For all your things are in one place?
No, this is my self’s false heaven,
And all my wealth in vain is to die;
I may live for some of you, and be gone.
For to the world’s end I shall live,
To make some pilgrimage where my self I may show.
“How shall I live, now, when I have no hope of ever living,
But that I cannot live again till I die,
Which I do by that means, by the sword,
And by that from my lips your living eyes behold?
Then you would weep and cry for my sake,
And in your self-love would plead for my death,
As if by force from afar he had committed,
To persuade you to give more to this debt,
Since the thought of such an effect
could not entertain him so rashly.
‘Well,’ quoth she, ‘if thy beauty, thy good sense,
How canst thou be so kind to me,
When I so fair in you seem so cold and harsh?
How canst thou be so kind to me,
When I so fair in you seem so kind?
And so am I with you as you are with me,
When I so fair in you seem so cold and harsh?
I never did feel the cold nor the tender heat,
nor you your gentle kind that makes such a heaven,
To the tender tender tender buds thou dost pine thy buds,
Thy sweet buds to thy sweet buds yield thine own flower.
Thou know’st I never once fell in love,
And you I have never seen thee do thee wrong,
Nor ever made such a spiteful boast,
That I often said I love you better now,
than I was the year before,
As I now think better, or do think better now
When it did seem you were my self and I was
A partaking of all that your grace,
Of the fair-green thyself thy art and all thy worth,
And by the grace you did make me, I in thee,
And for you, through you did my form come.
‘Therefore let me be confounded with the night,
To the earth, and I to your earth.
O love, for love of all thy kind,
Beauteous heavens! Collatinus, quoth he, ‘he is dead;
The night that I’ll die will live, the night will live again.
And being in a trance, a thousand fountains lie
Under his cloak, and under his chin lie
A thousand golden rings; and their contents
Are mazes of love, and of woe, and of hate,
To tear down thy heart and to crush your heart.
‘O!’ quoth she, ‘these shall be my woes,
The hours I have not till tomorrow should begin,
To sing praises and dote on my woes,
Whereon my woes grew, and I did make my love writ,
With deep sorrow, not faint praise,
And with gentle love he in his soft, fair form
Would give it his due, and then all his faults should be forgiven,
But then he would complain, and that complaining
Would seem the world’s most blunter critic,
Threw all his fair fair skill and his fair name;
And of all his worth did thy beauty stand
Thin, in that of all his wealth,
Which thou hast to spend to make thee what thou bringest,
O, that thou mayst use this sum to use again,
Thou mayst live to kill me, or I to live to live:
Thus in the dark of night I see you,
And then I will the day with dreams tell me,
That thou dost steal thy time in thy leisure,
And then, dost thou dream that I did steal thy leisure?
I will not steal thy time, but shalt thou steal thy leisure,
And that thee in me will steal thy leisure,
Let me be the thief to

======== CHECKPOINT 034 OUTPUT # 005 ========

O the world’s chief slave!
Look at the poor child, and behold the hand that feeds!
The hand that feeds, feeds the mind!
The mind that feeds, feeds the mind!
Whence art thou, who in thy state lends
The gift of true taste,
The cure of any ill?
A thousand talents, not ten in this
Yet am I to master more,
Than twenty times the ten I did conquer?
‘Why dost thou not read thy woes from afar?
Thou art like this to my ears:
To hear the stories of all my ill-favour’d foes,
Shall I be called fair, or fair aught?
Or do you hear those ill voices that say I am cruel?
O then I would like to know what you say
To my dear maid, and to know your love;
O then I would like to see thy beauty;
Thy love is so rare, yet in your case
you have it so rich in many respects.
Let not these poor men be content,
With such idle boast:—
They are, in every part, lords of their subject.
Whence then do I say that I have seen thee so?
I have not seen thee so, I know not what you are,
The eyes and the lips, but merely your
soul, and in each of them your name,
All in one; and the thought makes the heart turn,
To the world in another’s world.
But when thou art come of home, tell no more,
For it shall seem strange to thee that I live.
But how can I live in the world, when I love you so,
Though I do die, and thou go’st to make me live?
‘”Now,” quoth she, “if I may, I should like,
To do things that will seem so tedious
To my self, in others’ schedules.
A thousand thoughts then did run on,
That I had no reason to think, or to write,
But that every thought thought made some thing more,
And thought’s thoughts with a part of a mind.
That being thought did write to a mind,
Which it would comprehend, or comprehend not,
As if one were to write another’s story,
In my mind’s oratory would be.
How was this my thought to unfold,
So true to my self my thoughts did seem,
To have the effect I thought but to say,
That what it was was, was true and all in my mind.
“Now I behold in the fair moon that rose
The pale moon that she with one pale cheek did
Flaunt the mantle of youth, and beauty’s seal:
In each cheek did beauty show
His majesty, and beauty’s shame.
Then was he so hotly as before;
His tongue was but more blunt, his eyes more sharp,
And yet for all his fair face did smile,
Like silver from heaven, whose shining silken she wore,
To whom her shining cheeks gave fresh life.
But all these were in vain, and all their tears had run dry,
And thus the wind of night (slowly coming in)
Than in the west to the east, to the west,
Calls out the strong-willed, which in her face bears him light.
“My shame, my shame, my shame!”
Then will I cry aloud, ‘Father, kill me,’
But my spirit cannot be rid’d of his spite,
Though he so long lives; but he who can endure so long,
must kill himself sometime, that life-defining fear;
Or else his life is lost, and death in him.
So I will say, my shame, my shame;
My shame, my shame, my shame, my shame,
My shame, my shame, my shame, my shame;
My shame, my shame, my shame, my shame,
My shame, my shame, my shame, my shame,
My shame, my shame, my shame, my shame, my shame,
“Poor maiden! I should like to kiss thee,
And then the knife strikes my cheek, and my tongue is sore,
Like mad cow-tongued tigers to a herd,
Who ride in the dark and yet are not seen;
For now the wind is too strong, the night too short,
So long as the morning is not so hot.
Aye, she hath time, she hath breath, she hath sight,
And yet she thinks the sky is not light nor fair:
Thou art full of vain, and yet thou wilt give it up:
Thou art full of scornful, and yet thou wilt give it up:
The world’s most high-wretched conceit

======== CHECKPOINT 035 OUTPUT # 001 ========

commute from the world away?
Then why dost thou keep this from me,
That thou dost not, if I stay by my side?
In love there is no love; no love, for love doth live,
What I sought doth live, to die for thee.
The earth, the sea, the fire, the sun,
Which gave life to all the seasons, gave motion to it,
Made all these seasons the objects of all their cares.
But I thy love, that love which thou art,
What love doth live, what doth live doth die;
What doth live, what doth die doth live:
All that live, my love, and all that live are but one;
And to me as to thee doth derive
Thou art a living thing, but a dead thing.
Thou wilt live and die in love; in love I am a living thing,
And to this living thing I owe thee;
But to this living thing I owe thee thy life,
And in thee I do lie, thy dear friend;
Thy true self doth lie, and I thee as a swine,
In the bedlam of that night,
What on earth can thy sweet-sackless self say?
Whose beauty is nothing but a shadow,
Like a cloud in a hot summer’s night?
O, that whose shadow thou hast concealed,
O that whose self thy dear self doth cover,
O that whose self thy love doth so cover?
‘”All alone,” quoth she, “my thoughts are but idle;
And that sleep I have wrought upon thee,
So, my thoughts are but idle in me.
O stop me, for my soul I should say,
All this thought doth thy beauty breed,
And all this thinking doth thy soul breed
And then every part of thee my thoughts love,
And then all my thoughts love thee no more:
So be it, then, that thou art one:
Since I am one, my thoughts are both my parts,
Each part, of thy parts, should all praise thee.”
My body doth in her touch, but her tongue
Is silent, and her tongue the whole of her soul;
And then in Lucrece’ arms lies the other,
Whose lips are the same, his face the same;
So Lucrece was with his mistress’ eyes,
O, that thou dost not love me,
The love I have is all the same,
Since I thee, thy love is all the same,
Since I thee, my love is all the same:
O, that love that doth love thy self
Of me and thee shall remain dead,
Thy self, thy self, thy self was slain by
Thy self, thy self, thy self doth live.”
His eye doth behold her, his hand doth press
Her lips to his lips, his eye doth kiss them,
Her mouth doth kiss her lips again, his tongue doth let,
And still her eyes that would have stopped her were open,
But do not hold them, nor beheld him,
As the sun from heaven doth rain down upon her;
The clouds do cover the ground, but the rain fly
And from the clouds themselves fall,
As the sun falls from heaven.
“And, Collatine, thou wilt die, my dear friend.
The more so the more I weep for you,
For the less will I bear the pain of your crime.
O why dost thou lie on the ground,
when I am so far from thee,
The more doth my heart desire to know thee,
To know thy state, the more shall I desire;
But in this desire, the more the greater part
Of my feeling shall be felt by thee;
What then am I, with this greater part,
To say, thou art not one that my heart lov’st
Of thee, despite of thee I love thee so.
‘”O, but what fair creature, having her beauty in him,
Is not such a coward as I am,
As for my worth, yet my pride doth boast,
That all my self doth defy my will.
O then why dost thou lie so,
As I myself, thy self so forsaken,
Yet, in thee doth my self defy my will?
So then why dost thou lie so,
That I myself, thy self so forsaken,
Yet in thee doth my self defy my will?
O then, why dost thou lie so,
And all my self doth defy my will?
O then, why dost thou lie so,
Thyself so forsaken, my

======== CHECKPOINT 035 OUTPUT # 002 ========

pite at first, she did not want,
But then for fear of her ill-favour’d foes,
As she hath forsworn all vows,
And, feeling she is yet guilty, she bids aught
Thy defil’d self be revenged,
And then be they that forsworn themselves of vows,
That from their true faiths doth lie.
“Thou wilt find a husband, nor yet a wife,
That I love in thee, that I hate in thee.
Thou art a god, thou art my lord, thou my self,
And in love thou lov’st me not,
Love in thee I will not die, and thou in me will stay.
To him who doth call me here, to him I say
My name is thy slave; and thou art the one that doth steal.
If thou dost betray me, then betraying me will not stop.
When I was sick, I did love thee so;
Then dost thou live to deprive me of my pleasure?
‘If I die, what will be the thing?
No one can say ‘good night’ to me,
My heart’s choir of heavenly cheer,
But ‘good night’ to ‘well night’ cannot seem fair.
‘But I love thee as one that iniquity gave
Soweth poison to every breath;
Who, as weeds grow, do they not root
In buds, but die in them?
O, my sweet friend, I hope thou will not kill me.
The painter shows her grave;
The painter shows her roses;
The painter shows her hair, the groom’s beard;
The painter shows her face, his eye:
‘O thou painter of sorrow! for thyself I see
The way I have been deceived, and yet have not been
But as poets are told to their audience,
As ’tis that you made me weep; that I am writ sad.
Thou art a man, a man is but a man,
O what a sad spectacle he is!
For pity his face, which doth on his back lie,
Or sits on his cheek as if his head were gone.
“Ah!” she cries, “do not shame me again,
For if I do, I will not repent,
For if I repent, he will be thy friend.
‘Lo, my dear boy, thy lips are but lips of many,
And in my bosom can breathe the breath I sought,
But as they breathe he drowns his heart,
And the breath from his body stills his blood.
And all his heart’s music, as the flood makes,
Whose plaintive sounds the water doth chant,
The sick are cured, and no cure is found
Save in him by others’ negligence;
That is why I have been wooed and wooed again.
O, if you will let me read, I’ll tell thee
That this poor wretch, with all his grace,
Sway’d his horse, and he pluck’d his rider’s boar;
And on his back lay a pale face,
that looks on with fear, when he in his strength knows.
‘”O, where is thy mistress? where is thy mistress’
Shall I not see thy face and laugh?
What are you to see when I am gone?
To see what you did not see, and to see what you do see,
If you can do me good, that means your love.
Then my love’s name is Philomela;
Her name is Lucrece;
Her name is Lucrece’ sister;
Her name is Lucrece’ mother;
Her name is Lucrece’ father;
Her name is Lucrece’ mistress;
Her name is Lucrece’ mistress;
Her name is Lucrece’ husband;
Her name is Lucrece’ wife;
Her name is Lucrece’ mistress;
Her name is Lucrece’ father;
Her name is Lucrece’ mother;
Her name is Lucrece’ father;
Her name is Lucrece’ sister;
Her name is Lucrece’ mother;
Her name is Lucrece’ father;
Her name is Lucrece’ mother;
Her name is Lucrece’ father;
Her name is Lucrece’ mother;
Her name is Lucrece’ father;
Her name is Lucrece’ mother;
Her name is Lucrece’ father;
Her name is Lucrece’ mother;
Her name is Lucrece’ father;
Her name is Lucrece’ mother;
Her name is Lucrece’ father;
Her name is Lucrece’ mother;
Her name is Lucre

======== CHECKPOINT 035 OUTPUT # 003 ========

345, as in summer’s gaudy summer;
And yet they show not that she hath seen
Their faces, nor the subtle workings of their minds,
For now he hath made them subject to his gaze.
“O, let my love tell me, what is thy love’s cost?
I have sworn it to thee, I love thee and I love thee,
But I have not sworn to thee that thou art my friend,
For by this I have sworn that my love is dead,
And yet thy slander upon me, and on all my fame,
Will be the same, to me a stain of age.
My love’s dead, my love’s fresh, my love’s good,
My love is dead, my love is dead, my love is dead;
I would be dead by this, if thou wouldst excuse me,
To die in a kind of sad sleep with my dear friend.
Yet when thou hast no time to give me my love,
My affection is more than enough, for thou art my love,
Than thou thy self to love, though thou know’st not,
Whilst I myself am your self, yet being my love,
My self, though thou know’st not, yet thou art my love,
Thou art mine, my love is thyself the one,
Thou art mine, mine is thy self, my self thy self,
Whilst mineself be thyself self and mine, my self be thy self,
Myself be thou mine, my self be thou mine,
Thou art mine, my self art thyself my self.
And with that, she turns again to look at him;
He takes off his glasses, and leaves, and then again
The maid-servant’s voice, “What of thee?”
she says, and then she tells him
She had sworn oaths to love, that she would keep
His hand, and to kiss it would be death’s abuse.
‘But do not tell me this thy reason is too strong,
To make the false god of love swear falsely;
And do not fear to forbid him, for thou shalt never be tempted,
My heart hath sworn to thee, my heart to thee,
My heart to thee is true, and thou my love,
And thou my heart to me thou shouldst be slain.
But being slain, I be thy friend, thou art my love,
And not my friend and thou my friend being slain,
That thou wilt survive the siege by a thousand fold;
But as the knife hath not yet begun to kill,
His wound cannot be more blunt than a knife’s sting,
And my heart hath sworn to slay, and I am dead,
The night would break, and tomorrow night I could not sleep;
Then what should I do? I should stay, and stay night and day,
And write down the night’s contents in the night,
Or do I swear I never seen thee?
Or was it in the wind that haunted me that night?
Or in the strong wind that was my constant charm?
Or in the unshorn bark that tore my garments off?
‘Yet do not swear thou art dead, my dear friend,
No, that was my lie, and still will be;
O no, my love, my love, love will stay;
And yet thou know’st it, the other night,
The one I do swear did not do,
The other night’s true false lie did not do.
‘That my heart did betray thee to death,
The other night, and thou art my friend,
The first and last night, were those forces
Of my spirit, and my heart, and soul,
That controlled my thought, and controlled his,
That all my thought, my thoughts, my thoughts, my words,
Were controlled to his pleasure, and his to my end;
For his pleasure I did restrain, to my end,
And all my thoughts, my thoughts, my thoughts,
Threw all their contents to that end, and all their end to my end.
When my life shall last as a tale told,
When beauty shall appear to be of lesser beauty,
When youth shall be short and dull and dark,
When pride shall stain and blunter age,
When pride shall blunter age,
And then that beauty that thou make so great,
Thy proudest glory shall live beside him,
And by him that thou spendest thou shalt live.
‘How often, I have dreamt of thee,
For all their victories and abuses and faults have been,
To watch your ugly face in the west;
But when all their praises have begun to run,
And as the flood that is from the west chokes
Deep gales that inundate the earth,

======== CHECKPOINT 035 OUTPUT # 004 ========

happens in his heart;
He in her, his heart, like a cloud,
Sits, as in a mountain’s vapour,
Whereon his face doth meet his face’s shadow;
When she, her eyes, her breath are all wet.
“Lo here she sleeps; her thoughts are mute and her eyes wide;
She hears no cries; there they are;
But for her eyes she drops a droop of sweat;
And lo, as she sleeps, the clouds with whom she lies,
Like white pebbles hanging by the wind,
Rain doth cover the white spots, as if by some secret charm.
But she hears none of this; then she thinks he is dead;
The wind doth blow on her face, and she hears the wind.
For when I have said, ‘He is gone, kill me;
He is gone, kill me,’ she cries.
“Die, O no! O no, kill me fast;
For thou wast done, thou wast not my cause;
O no, kill me fast! kill me fast,
And yet thou hast done my part, by thy being gone;
Thy self, which on thy soul’s part remains,
Bids thy self to die, my self to live,
My self to go and live again, my self again to kill.
‘”So then the boy, being on his side,
In the way of battle, with that fierce pride
Which in his fight, in the way of combat doth fight,
His spear in his foe’s eye and breast,
And like a dying eagle, flies with the wind;
He that fights in this death, he that dies,
O let him stay, and let him be gone.
O let him have it all, though death itself be slain;
For he that lives, dies and goes free;
For this reason did he entertain such a mind
As death in himself made such a thought.
The same Sinon in his rage set
Against the fair queen, and thus in a dream she did slay:
She, with her many fair hairs, in a trance did
Unclench his breast; he, like a dying phoenix, did
Curl his blood-cold lips to the ground,
And kiss his lips so softly that he cannot hear.
O thou dost make them so, and so shalt thou live,
As the sweetest drops of water in the brine;
To drink it all, so shall we live,
If ever the breath were from me.
‘”Thou shalt not kill,” quoth she, “my father is dead;
That is, my sin is thy father’s death.”
‘But what shall I do with my life, if it be for thy love?
I will not kill thee, for thou art dead.
‘”No, he will not kill me, for that thou hast violated,
The kiss which thou wilt give him is mine,
And to this he answers, “No.”
Then will she look on him, and she says, “How dare I be so hateful?”
He replies: “Thy husband lives, and mine own will live,
To have him bewitch his mistress.
But I will not live to have him kill,
For he is dead, and for me he lives.”
He says, “Thou, ne’er-mad, wilt kill me again,
Unless thou be willing to have him for thy wife,
And if thou be willing to have him for my wife,
And if thou know where thy wife is, I would ne’er kill her.”
O yes, she says, she intends that her tongue
Be mute and do not tell me,
If thou dost hear the words, thou wilt know
That every tongue is mute, each word being a mark.
O what a wretched fool this false mistress is!
And how far hath she from thee gone,
That thou mayst call upon my dear Lucrece
To take thee to thy bed and kiss me,
To say that my dear Lucrece is her.
‘”I am weary now, my dear; for my wearyness hath done
To distract me, and distract myself with thoughts,
I think I have fled from thee, and I would not
Kill thee if I could kill thee before I die;
When then will my poor soul, in the hope of a kiss,
Find refuge with him, or live with him alone,
Which death can remove from me, as it clears thee away.
If that desire may have me beld together,
With thee that life might permit me,
And live with thee that life might remove thee,
But death is dead, and life dead, and life dead, and life dead, and life dead

======== CHECKPOINT 035 OUTPUT # 005 ========

blend in every berry is thine.
Yet, quoth she, there lies a black-fac’d man,
And he lies motionless, and with his fair face falls.
So is that night, and day, and night.
So am I now, all in haste,
Against death, and all the world’s spoil toiled:
With a loud cry it shall be, ‘O Night, O Fear!
Who is to say, ‘Thou art not dead?’
She cries again and again, like a desperate widow;
And her voice is so high, that she doth dare to rise;
She leaps to her doom, but is not there;
Her blood is cold and clear and cold,
She dies, and nothing is left but blood.
‘Dear boy,’ quoth he, ‘you can’t be angry with me,
That I am in love with you; and I will kill you.
‘But love is my love and love it is hard,
That we together are hard to love.
‘Poor boy,’ quoth he, ‘you know nothing of love,
You should know better: I have had many fond days
As if from a dream the dear soul had not flown;
But, by chance, did, and still I dream,
Like the dreamer that flies in his sleep,
When suddenly he woos the world with his shadow;
Who wakes him up in a dream by that name,
Or else with his shadow by some other name,
Or both of them both.
‘Oh, lo, that I am, it was my destiny to die,
To live like a deified nun and die like a saint;
But now, for the second time, that fate hath done me wrong,
I hate him like a butcher.
To wit, ’tis true that in his death I make a god,
And I hate him as a thief of liv’d time,
To steal what he’s stolen from you and hoard what he sells;
In other words, in me you have no god,
Which by your name is extinct and your city is built.
“If men had not made thee their king,
They would not have been kings of this world.”
“What of thee?” quoth she; “that thou art no king,
If in thy deeds I make aught new,
Then this new-made heaven is my god.”
‘O heartless goddess! what of thee!
When thou shalt have no more than that which thou wilt have,
When, like a fiend, thy deeds iniquity yield,
As worms, or worms that eat all the worms alive!
As if from a dead body their prey did move;
So was my love to die, and live in the grace of my tongue.
“Thus she speaks in a heavy accent:—
O good night, and now to-morrow thou must be gone!
The day’s pleasure is death, that is to die,
My sorrow is love’s pain; and hence my sorrow’s gain!
And yet when thy sorrows have spent, thy largess is spent,
Like a thousand streams of water running doth run,
For no cause doth my sorrow overflow.
The river’s main body, the channel through which
The gouty water proceeds, doth fill it with sighs,
And to feed them she throws up her eyes,
And bids them look on, and say, “O fair day! how fair
The summer’s days are spent in this place;
And now this dear place is so barren,
that the hours which keep the summer warm still
Are in short but a few minutes spent in a field,
By the spring-fed stream, where summer’s day is spent.
‘”For my love I did vow never to forsake thee,
Or ever to forsake my love:
I never did seek nor seek to know,
And yet the more I sought, the more I grew weary.
If men had not made thee their king,
They would not have been kings of this world.
‘For fear of Sin, that my sweet body might be taken,
And Sin’s blood mixed with mine,
Or Sin’s blood mixed with mine, or Sin’s blood mixed with mine,
That Sin’s blood mixed with mine might have my body:
Thus Sin’s blood might have my body, or Sin’s blood mixed with mine.
But now, Sin himself hath brought this to light,
The true Sin, and I have Sin’s true Sin,
The true Sin hath Sin’s true Sin, and I in Sin.
“Ah! Sin!” quoth he, “do not say I will not fight;
Whence then can I then live?”
The poor wretch replies, “Because thou art dead, I will

======== CHECKPOINT 036 OUTPUT # 001 ========

tells one the more the harder she strives:
The weak, the dumb, the poor, the wretched
Dismiss the sweets which their sweet-tasting superiors give:
In the best of them the heart may live,
Even where the spirit can’t live, in thee it may thrive.
When love dies, what remains of love’s dead heart
Is that which it once was; yet that it will live,
And in that it still still remains, it will never live:
For nothing more than a dead heart will repair,
As a living dead heart will repair when it hath died,
For this dead heart, too, love still lives,
The dead heart can be buried again,
In the tomb of love, where love once stood,
And now dead, too, to be seen again.
“And in my love’s power, as thou art,
As a spring, like a plow, straight to the field,
Which weeds up the spring-tow, but in it
Is filled with such a weed,
As thou shalt see thou dost overflow
With that which thou hast begot.
What is thy love, thou lov’st, thou art my love?
Which love so lov’st, thou didst steal away?
What is thy worth, thou lov’st, thou art my worth?
What is thy worth in love’s time, thou lov’st, thou art my love?
When love dies, what remains of love’s dead heart
Can remain, as a dead heart in thee?
Love in thy power, as thou art in my love,
That thou art in my love’s power, what remains
In this worth thou inmost shouldst find.
If thou wilt, this treasure from me thou hoard,
The morn, the storm, the dire, the deathless night
To make thee bleed, to make thee weep,
And kill thy self for thy own sake,
To make me a king or a beggar,
To rob thee of this, my treasure in thee,
And that in thee there is no death,
Will be thy true heart, which my love hath,
Whose true self hath thy love in thee,
And thou with thy love’s worth, be rul’d by the fool.”
And as she answers this by her tongue,
A merry band of wailing hawks stand by,
Like sham-pens to a pining hawk,
whose sad plight they all disdainfully look,
That no one may catch their eye, although some place
Doth seem to them in want of good will.
Such silly creatures they do not think
How much less they were, when they had grown
And had been so proud, yet were they so kind.
O’er whose ears, when their faces were bent,
Shook at our poor hearts with their sad groans:
With the weary arms did my weary hands catch,
With one that in my hand did imprison
Thy hand’s heavy task, as the tide doth lend thee
How much faster I may swim, and yet do not wish to drown;
Who knows how much time I will waste in idle thought:
No need then can I complain of time spent idle,
And yet time wastes all in wasting Time.
But I have but begun to wail my ill-favour’d woes,
I had imagined Time’s glory long before,
And yet Time’s time expired in Collatinus’ arms,
To make me forget Time’s fame, so to speak.
She sighs and sighs as if she would go,
And wails, and cries, and groans, and wails, and groans.
‘O how I did love thee dearly,
When all your best were done and all thy worst was gone;
Which is why I do here here a sad memorial,
The loss of such a thing hath never been:
Since love never made love, nor death any cure:
For love made love and love made love.
But when love did make love and love made love,
And death did make death and death made death,
Love made death, and love made death,
And now love did make my heart and heart my heart’s heart,
And now my heart, and now my heart’s heart’s heart’s heart,
That now all your praise of me and your praise of me have gone,
The loss of my self, that which by your praise is buried,
My self that I have for whose benefit I am sought.
So now love, mine alone, with all the rest of you
The world with thee is forsaken,
And all in a league of want.
“Poor thief,” quoth she, “if there be any fear in my heart,
Aught I in your fair thoughts do alter,

======== CHECKPOINT 036 OUTPUT # 002 ========

superhuman you would not look upon!—
But to him I added, ‘The more;’
‘How long till then’ said she, ‘I will stay with you?’
He smiled sadly, ‘do not despair: my friend will soon see
This untimely death of mine eyes, which in his
yellow cheeks now glisten with tears;
But this sweet flower that he so loved did betray,
In thy green cheeks now blush;
Thy beauty is no longer so; let it last
Within a few days, and the year be forgotten.
Let the time come when I, your queen, will tell
the sad story of my dear love’s life.
“And there on that stage, full of grief, stood a child,
with golden cheeks, pale and feathered,
Which like shining spheres the sky were gazing
Upon him with pale eyes, whose shining radiance
Like shining spheres the heaven’s fair face would say:
‘Dear father, this ill-doing of your name,
Since thou art dead, I am the one dying,
When thou wast present, and I shall be.’
And thus she answers, ‘And now, old man,
To tell the tragic tale,
Or the glorious spectacle, in your face.
The thought is enough, I’ll tell it with your
Will, and with thy Will my Will be clear.’
When she concludes that he will not say,
Or what he is afraid of, is still the same;
Which means he will not tell what he hears,
That he hears you now, then you have heard.
Thus shall she say, I’ll bequeath thee a will
Of beauty that shall not fade, beauty’s dead.
When the last breath that thou lov’st hath stopped,
To bury the dying, or else to bury it still,
I will make the dead of the living seem happy;
And you in that happy state be buried in eternal sorrow.
‘O let no ill say this,’ quoth Collatine,
‘an antique in his time;—
But now, when the invention of medicine,
Lurking deep in the earth and sea,
Sinking in every part, and every extremity,
From all ranks of space all this toil in sighing,
With every vein filling, and every line
Making an earth-shaking thump, all the more to make me weep;
And if in thy heart I will bear it,
Thy self I’ll write a story of thy grace.’
‘Then I am not thy best friend,’ quoth Collatine,
‘I do not wish that to thee might live;
My dear Lucrece to thee, but not to thee,
My love to thee, even to this day, is stale.
‘My dear Lucrece, how many times have I seen thee,
I wonder how many a time you in my day have smiled;
Yet never in this time did I see you grow,
Or saw you in any of your fair forms grow.
‘I may seem to love you, but I do not want to be so,
So I cannot hold you back in that I love you.
Even to my love you shall live, and never forget.
When in Lucrece’ company the maid of one love,
She doth him double duty, when he is with her in haste;
She takes care that his thoughts may not enter
The mind which from his chamber through
Came here, to look through that which he had seen
To put in his head another eye;
And therefore, that his outward parts might be seen
As when his brain was reigned in,
But inward parts, as inward objects,
By themselves do not affect what is seen.
And thus to my love your soul is seen
Duty to thy part, my parts, to thee,
Where all is but thy part, my parts, to thee,
When all is thine, and all things to thy parts,
The sum of your parts, in that part,
Your whole, is thine too.
The sum of thy parts in that part,
That in this whole is thy whole, the sum of all,
If you divide all together.
‘But where is my love, that thou shouldst so lov’st,
That thou wilt in my body my body art?
In that my love thou shouldst make me thy bed,
And then to my body, as in thy bed,
That thou dost therein remain, my part doth belong:
Then thou in mine part make me thy bed.
Thus concludes Lucrece’ self a sweet story to tell,
Of love made by the loving husband,
And the love made of men by the other’s wife.
‘The way out lies

======== CHECKPOINT 036 OUTPUT # 003 ========

hugely in that he is often troubled with subtle touches, yet so in him is he kind;
That every one in his looks so bright with fair,
That even to the sun they see him smiling,
In such a mood did his love flatter,
That as if he did the painter his own ill,
He would make no more of himself than one painter did,
Nor could he take the painter’s place;
Then when he had a fair painting in mind,
A fair woman to herself he did not boast:
He did swear by her and love’d her by him.
When thou mayst hear, O love, mine eyes will not see
That a mourner stole from my cheek,
His true form hath no end but mine:
When mine eyes see what they see, how much more will they like
They never have, but when they see, I’ll take thee away;
Who with his fair locks doth lock his prey’s jaws,
And for his sake will not bear him forth.
That she may be revenged on him for such treason,
And for her honour be praised for thy deed,
And to the world for your honour be praised,
When thy name is as a Roman proud,
Be your praise for this bastard-god’s honour,
And mine honour to praise all that I have seen,
Make every thing right and good for your sake,
And then to your own honour would I excuse,
Make my soul my right and pure right,
And make the world my hate’s right and vile wrong,
And then, if your foul faults should be fixed,
Where were my faults with your fair love now?
If your true love is so poor, canst thou live on,
Or if not, where canst thou live on?
‘But this,’ quoth he,’my love lives on the ground,
Till you, if it is not then I love it not;
And thou shalt never live to do it again.
‘Then be it lawful for the father or for the child,
Thou art thy lawful self: thou shalt have thy father’s name,
The other’s will. O then thy true self am I called,
And thou thine own worth’st not to be strangled:
If it be, my true self doth kill it,
And then thou wilt kill me, I do wish my father were dead.”
Yet here he replies with trembling disdain;
‘And now I shall ask why thy heart
When thou didst make such a breach of oath,
The breach being such a thing,
Swell and dry thy tears, but not for my sake.
To have no love with you, nor with mine,
To not be with you at all, nor with mine,
To have your love, but to be with me nothing,
This is the last. When shall I think of you again?
I will make my mind’s eyes your friends when you return,
When they on the day are spent abroad,
Nor your fair form your sweet beauty’s spring-fed,
That they may think their fair beauty grow with you here.
“O be gentle,” quoth she, “though this have been
Some sad accident, yet you know the full well
That this is a simple matter,
In you this is done. I, Lucrece, shall not be so bold
As thou blind, for thou art my love,
Whose shadow on thine eyeballs is thy sight;
And if that thy shadow in thy sight,
Looked the other way, how much farther did I go,
From the grave of thy beauty doth lie:
Or my soul was sealed there in thy tomb,
Even to that time did I stay by night:
So that thou my dear wife will henceforth stay,
Thou art my husband’s muse and muse-
The very flower that thou dost love:
When he is gone by night he’ll come and kiss me;
And to this kiss will I be moved;
But now my lips would do thee no good,
And all at once I will cry, O excuse me,
What then is my love? Were it love, then there was no love,
For love was no love, and no love,
For love was love, and hate was no love.
‘And as the flood that comes from abroad from high
Will in one swift motion drown my breath,
And drown my breath in a river,
That will then be my drown’d breath.
‘Yet now my breath is shallow, yet again will drown me;
Like an idle gust of wind will do me no good,
And if my breath were shallow enough, it would drown my breath;
Thus am I deceived when in a place so high,
And when my breath is shallow

======== CHECKPOINT 036 OUTPUT # 004 ========

span it’s not the most modest praise, though not of thy worth,
Which I am yet a stranger to so much,
That no one else can say my name is better.
For that is what I do love to write,
But to-day that’s so hard and hard I have it,
So let my love’s good fortune tell,
And let my love’s true fortune lie plain,
In the truth which thou wilt never know.
O Love, have pity’d my eye and heart,
Who in the world cannot make an ill-appalled eye
Pray to be rid’d of my dear face,
Or to be rid’d of my wretched bed,
But to be rid’d of my sight’s sharp dull point,
I’ll be buried in some shallow grave,
And, poor and feeble, die, alone in my grove,
And there I’ll grow old, and in old age decay.
‘Poor bastard, when is love supposed to last
And live in grief, but not in despair,
And in eternal strife,
But with the sad sigh, and in eternal despair
The heart breaks, and then the heart’s hollow heart
With sighs that never could fulfill;
Yet sighs never be so deep as that deep breath,
that I can never say ‘Well done’, ‘Well done’
And ‘Well done’ would sound nothing like ‘Well done’.
Yet as the hour of his doom is
So long have I known him to do evil
To rob his prey of all his treasure,
With him in the dark shadows of night,
Till he doth devour the day’s sweet sweet jewel,
And that thou shalt not know his true self in his lies,
But tell thyself in thine eyes, and in thy thoughts,
That thou art the thief which hid his treasure.
‘But that thou art all deceiv’d, that thou art all one,
Which is to me, the most wretched,
The only hope of my ill-experienc’d life,
When ever thou mak’st for love, to borrow from me,
That borrows from me, and borrows from thee,
With borrowed borrowings will be kept from me,
But to borrow that borrowed borrowed borrows to spend:
And as thou lov’st all the world, so my borrowings,
make me a debt of thee in mine eyes,
That do thy parts serve thy worth as well.
“And what a joy it is, to behold the proud lion,
When in one part of him lean’d,
Whose cheek is on his back, or down his sides,
Yet in another part lean’d, as though from an infection,
The one cheek on his back may seem sore;
The other cheek on his sides may seem sore;
But from both sides still his face is fair,
Like a lamb, lean and full of life,
with that grimy look which weeps in the grave,
That it with the world’s foul eyes seems harmless:
But how often a man’s frown may appear,
That to his eye it is said, ‘Had I not seen him,
This would have been the morning; now it is night.’
“And thou that nursest thyself from the sluttish womb,
That through me thou hast nursed, to-day,
The bitterness of life’s dreadful end,
Against which thou wast born to grow,
Thy eternal soul shall make thee a coward.
But be kind, thou wast Sinon’s child,
And Sinon’s slave to his mistress’ decease.
“How dare I say that this world hath no beauty
With which to impress your beauty?
But look what was there in thy face,
That I would behold when in your face I stood:
When the golden leaves which on thy back were stacked,
Stirred to life in thy light.
And in that thy shining body doth stand,
With that of all the heaven that love doth,
And in the heavens of heaven and earth,
With all the earth’s heavenly lights,
The sun, moon, and stars, stood for me;
And in their high spheres did I see
Thy sweet light, which every eye hath seen,
For beauty, that thou dost exalt,
As thou dost strive for, to stand in thy way,
For in the pure ocean thy ocean doth lie,
And thou gilded ocean, and all that wealth doth lie,
And all that treasure doth belong to thee:
And that in my breast thy world doth live,
And all that wealth doth belong to thee,
And all that wealth doth belong to me.
Thus for thy sake was I entreat,
That my life would live on thee still

======== CHECKPOINT 036 OUTPUT # 005 ========

hooked, as from a spring,
Or from the sky, as a melting wreck.
Nor by these sounds will I be dumb,
Nor faint, nor dumb, nor trembling;
Nor yet all at once, and all at once,
This picture will the world know,
In it shall I be well pleased, and all things ill,
Of many a true, and simple purpose.
‘Dear lord,’ quoth she, ‘you seem so cold,
Iniquity is your own fault, and all that wrong
Which thou gav’st to others’ pity;
You poor wretch, thou unkind, yet more guilty
Than I, who was thy self the first.
What was thy heart but of stone,
Or were it stone that ever did flatter thee?
Thou hast put forth thy mind in all his right,
And I to thee, have put all mine worth in thine,
My body and all thy worth in thine.
Now I am told thy reason is weak,
For all my worth thy fault is weak,
I have no proof to show how strong
My strength is, not to believe in thee,
Thy faults must be proved before I’ll blame thee.
Thou art a coward, a false thief,
And I, a false slave to thy thoughts.
Let me not think how my heart’s power
Could not love, the world would laugh at thee,
And, lo, I could not love, nor would not love you,
Not even in the greatest of hell’s gates
A woman is never a kiss’d man, though he kiss’d her;
The world loves her, but never to her her.
‘Why not me, sweet friend?’ quoth she, ‘if thou couldst write a story,
The world would tell of me, but that thou didst write,
And the world to me would write of thee.
‘”O madam, with that, whereon mine eyes wreath
To the world’s tears and the weeping eyes of the rest,
Whereon the world would be amazed, and the rest weep,
For every eye that sees the world would weep,
For every eye that breathes the world would weep,
And each eye that hears the crying would weep and cry;
And every eye that sees the world would weep, and the rest cry.
‘Now as one of the birds that she spies,
As one of the bushes that her eyes catch,
Doth chase after her, yet never doth she run,
For fear of her being lost in pursuit;
Then ‘twixt her hind legs is a winged boar,
Who neighs, and the wind to hisses.
‘What a strange thing it seems! ‘twixt love and fear!
When one fears her other’s terror,
Neither knows the other’s true fear.
I had told thee thy love’s origin,
And thou the reason for that love,
Was that thou taught me to love another.
And then it seemed to me, that you were thy love,
And then I with your outward light
Were the first to change, and the last to change.
As you, my love, from thy sweet place
Till now, for the first time, in my soul,
I’ll think all the time the world wrong,
The world my love should make, the world my love should banish:
And as you that gave me this, so I shall give back.
So do I love the world, and the world my love hate,
That in me they seem to agree;
And in me they seem to be one.
‘Tis the first of many favours that I have,
And my love was the first when they first began:
And now that I have done them honour,
To whom the praises were all yours,
Then did you, from me, my love bequeath’d,
Being of thine own self, but of your own:
For me being your love, is thine own honour,
Of thine own self alone is thine own defence.
O, if thou didst love me, where are thy faults,
Which my love can think, but in my soul,
Is my own fault for my self, and thy self for my self.
“Thou wast deceived, fool! thou dar’st a man,
Thou art the gaudy instrument in a slave’s hand:
And now my dear friend is in his way,
Thy self in self’s wrong hath come in his way;
For then my dear friend in my friend’s way,
Thy self in self’s wrong hath come in his way,
Whilst my dear friend in my friend’s way,
Thy self in my friend’s way hath come in his

======== CHECKPOINT 037 OUTPUT # 001 ========

implying to your fair master.
If that be so, he will not hold you but as slaves;
If he, then you be his tenants;
He will not sell you for his mistress’ sake,
He will lend you one more kiss, one more kiss,
And one more poor moan to drown her sorrow.”
“What dost thou think to me?” quoth she;
“Thy love,” quoth she, “is but a token of thy good sense,
And thou art the one, of whose worth so much matter lies,
And I, that by thee do thy fair name count,
Is to be my dear friend, and to thee my friend,
That thou dost my poor tongue to drown this poor word,
Whose meaning to me to be so poor is more than mine.
Thy true quality in thy living I love,
In all my life, all my body, all my heart,
Since thou lov’st me for my good, I love thee for my sake,
And thou lov’st me for my self, I love thee for thee:
So long as thou lov’st me, I love thee to this end,
And so I die, and thou me again live.”
“So long as thou lov’st me, I love thee to this end,
And thou lov’st me for my self, I love thee for thy sake,
And thou lov’st me for my self, I love thee for thy sake,
Thy self shall live, and thou art my self again,
‘Twixt thou art and thou art no longer,
So long as thou lov’st me, I love thee for my sake,
Thy self shall live, and thou art no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou art no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou art no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou art no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou art no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou art no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou art no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou art no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou art no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou art no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou art no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou art no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou art no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou are no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou art no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou are no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,
Thy self shall live, and thou be no longer,

======== CHECKPOINT 037 OUTPUT # 002 ========

When it were she to hold him by the hand,
She would not dare so, lest she should have his face;
And she would not so, lest she should provoke him to leave.
“What would be thy sweet excuse?” quoth he,
With her red lips’ lips’ red cheeks she glided,
Like fools with the fickle eye,
When by their sinful lust they break their oaths?
When by the sinful eye hath sin taken her place?
When she herself hath defiled the proud cause?
When she herself deceives men’s eyes?
When her husband’s love hath done her disgrace?
When he’s her mistress’ mistress, who hath brought shame
To those whom she abuses?
Where can her adulterate blood draw?
She knows where it lies, where it needs,
Which she seeks with her lustful eye.
And that desire in Lust hath made thee such an eye;
That you, with mine own infamy,
Have begun to confound me with my deeds.
‘So shall thy name be remembered,
Though it be forgotten, for all the world shall be grieved.
In me I will confound thee in thy deeds,
And never be forgot, if thou dost be remembered.
‘For if thou dost be remembered, the day is nigh;
So may my love, thy love to me, wert ever lasting.
Thou wilt be remembered till all my love are undone;
Then am I, and all other were.
‘Then shall thy name be remembered, though it be forgotten,
Until thou return, the day that I have beguiled thee.
‘So may my love, thy love to me, wert ever lasting.
‘The thing that you seek with thy life
is seldom found, but seldom satisfied,
With a modest fee of your time spent,
Shall I not live to do it again?
Or in the course of my life to retire?
Or as the ocean that fed our oaks expired,
To live in the sea of death, to live in the ocean of praise?
Or as our forebears of old,
When by nature’s sweetest breath we must bear them to sea,
Or as the earth and the air that breatheth thee so,
will be my constant guide, ere my love to die.
“So shall my name be remembered, though it be forgotten,
Until all my love be forgotten, and no more are seen.
By this decree do I send thee to my chamber,
To show thee how this mortal sin in me lies:
All my shame is gone and I am thy wife.
Then shall all my shame be gone and I am thy wife.
‘O, my love! how shall my love be remembered,
Though it be forgotten, for all the world shall be grieved?
The world may hear my woes but they shall not know
And the world may see my sorrows but they shall not know.
But be my love my love is remembered and all men may behold,
The world may see my sorrows but they shall not know,
And the world may see my sorrows but they shall not know,
And the world may see my sorrows but they shall not know,
But this thy love is my love and all men may behold,
For all men love thee, for no other,
Yet I love thee so, but not as one by nature.
‘O love! who can say that thou art not my love?
‘If thou wilt,’ quoth she, ‘if thy love were no longer,
The world would be thy lover’s court,
And my love’s court with his eyes would be my court.’
‘O,’ quoth she, ‘you see I must leave thee here
When, like an angry lion, I might in thy sight appear,
And, being lion, would slay you in a flash.
‘But, as thy servant hunts for me,
Till with my sword drawn, and his crest seen,
He drops his sword in the snow and in a puddle doth lie.
‘”Since my body was consecrated to thee,
O, from me thou hast come, from me thou return.
That which thou hast hid, to thee I now owe.
Iniquity in all my might, foul abuse,
Against thy will, and inordinate parts:
How many adulterate sons have I committed,
And for my sake, still to this day have I forsook,
And I through thy self, the sole stain,
Have yet been thy equal, that still in me thy light shines,
For ever, and evermore, and evermore,
As the sun that doth part from heaven.
Now do I know thee well, and yet

======== CHECKPOINT 037 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Brut I to thee,
And with thy sweet love I will not look:
For I was so kind and kind as thy loving,
To lend my help unto thy good will.
But I have to be revenged on thee,
And I’ll live in scorn of you,
For thou didst lend me a more fair excuse:
Thy love is but a kind-hearted loan,
To me thou art my love, and I thy bond:
For to thee I owe such an increase,
As you I owed to love; and yet are not owed them,
Which, for love’s sake, thou wouldst spend their stars,
That will do you good, if they will lend you their light:
If, at thy command, they do lend you their light,
Mine eyes, their hearts, their minds, are with thee.
If they ever have my self, how long shall my love be,
Love’s shadow cannot leave, nor his mark return,
For love alone cannot be removed.
So shall my body, my mind, my love return.
And since my body, my mind, and my love return,
My mind, my mind, and my love return,
My love, and beauty are both done,
And both remain my whole body.”
That is why, quoth he, she concludes she hath slain,
That thou hast harmed me, and thus,
I am dead, too ill to hear thee again.
The morning is gone, and the sky bright,
And as the sun hath begun to rise again,
The clouds in the sky now glow bright,
And all the world is dark and dismal.
Love’s power is not like the eye,
To view with his own kind of woe:
Love to thee is thine own, and thine own art.
Love is not like me in this,
But like me in a thousand other ways,
My strength is weak, my soul strong, and thine weak,
Like me in a thousand other ways,
Love is weak, my soul strong, and thine weak,
And weak in me as in thee.
‘Poor thing,’ quoth she, ‘though thou gav’st so much, yet thou churlish
Not to boast that thou hast many a wife,
The thought of me living with thee remains
Upon that which thou livest.
I have no honour to show there,
Nor honour to boast of my true age;
I am not of thy love, nor thou thine own,
Nor thy worth in my image to exceed,
The sum of all the objects thou bestow’st.
But in thy face shall I show my love,
That you my love may be thine, and I thy pride,
When I make the world thy image,
Then in my self alone thou must appear,
With that which in thee I am thine.
To thee my glory is but your image:
To me that you may be the glory of your mind,
And mine own image be the glory of your fame:
To me my shame is but my disgrace,
For if I have the use of my fame,
I shall never be with you again,
To show thee that I am such a piece of dust,
That is, a living thing, not the thing we know:
In me nothing is but your shadow,
In me nothing remains but your likeness.
All this, as the gale blows, so shall her moans grow.
Then what might her moans have been,
But now a dying flower?
Who, having said, can ever say it so?
She is no saint, and therefore hath no pleasure
In her death, nor in her name:
For why, death, she never doth love her:
What, death, she doth not love at all:
So hath she the world to live, and death to die.
O, what a pity the world’s eyes had not seen,
That on his sad brow he fell and laid waste
All her beauty and every part of him.
That is why his cheeks have burned like burning pits,
And his teeth like a poisonous-smelling river.
O what a hell hath she in this world,
That thou didst kill, yet she still liv’d.
O, what a pity that thou hast harmed me,
When thou didst kill, yet my life liv’d,
As thou live’st dead, not the life thou gavest,
O that life in thy living form is liv’d!
And still thy living form, when thou lov’st me,
Thy living form still liv’d, yet I live.
In this, then thou art the sole,
And the common bond wherein thou bear’st is forged.
For it is that thou art

======== CHECKPOINT 037 OUTPUT # 004 ========

afi and weak.
‘And then, lo, thy hand shall be as strong as that of Achilles,
Thy bare thigh like the lily that lies
In the wayward thorn that is tied to thy foot’s growth,
Thy bare thigh like thy bare foot’s growth growing,
thy bare foot like his growth’s growth’s growing.
‘For what’s in thy hand is new or altered?
what’s in my blood is new, or altered?
The sun or the winds or snow melt thee away,
Whose golden hue doth my life and thee remain.
And that thee, this golden jewel, to thine art,
Wherefore hast thou gone thence to rob a mortal?
Thou must then be his master, and his slave,
The slave of my self, for thy self he gives thee.
My soul is like a plough, to feed this weed
And thou shalt have thy harvest, that I am hungry.
‘Then for the present, if thou allow the rain,
Then I, your mother, shall be thy rain,
And thou shalt harvest in that blessed spring,
That thou art my child, thy husband, thy self, and all the rest.’
And in that blessed spring were the leaves
Of that tree which thine eyes seeeth.
Thy heavenly hand shall keep thee in this flood,
For my verse lives in thy verse,
When thou art, and the living flower is death,
Then shall be thy book, the time is long for thee.
O how blessed a time is that ever I behold!
Then for these words and this I pray,
To heaven, the blessed and true god of love,
The one to whom I pray, the other,
To him that by my death be called to be
Thy loving witness doth give the cause of my death.
‘”Now this, saith he, is a dream,
Which I did sometime behold before;
And now again I behold it is still
Sleeping in my glass, that shows the sun;
Now that he hath it, it is his delight:
O that which I might see, that might see it,
As thou with my tears shouldst seem, to me thy light.
The sun, in my youth, was not so great a sight;
And now it is as fair and as pleasant a sight
As when thou wilt behold the face of a maund-wretch,
Or the stern-necked pelf that doth wail thy foe;
Or the sweet-joking pelf that doth lend thee my aid;
Or the red-hued hawker that doth swallow thy foe?
Or the jade-eating crow that woos the deer?
Or the mongrel that takes the sweet-tongued berry?
Or the white-livered dove that doth sing?
Or the mountain bower that fears no mortal danger?
Or the wind-whitening dove that doth sing?
Or the violet-green-hued dove that doth nuzzling?
Or the green of a brook’s sap?
Or the hued-rimmed swan that doth nuzzling?
Or the swan that feeds on water?
Or the rose that blooms on the ground?
Or the rich-fac’d hare that takes the harvest?
Or the rosy-hued hound that doth scratch?
Or the green-tinted boar that feeds on the ground?
Or the red-brained boar that doth scratch?
Or the coy-green-haired crow that doth kill?
Or the hare that eats the summer’s grass?
Or the naked-hued hound that doth scratch?
Or the green-tinted hawk that doth spot?
Or the red-brained wild boar that eats the summer’s grass?
Or the tall and lean deer that eats the spring?
Or the hound that hurls the tree?
Or the black-fac’d vulture that feeds on the wind?
Or the crooked gazelle that doth shake the sky?
Or the golden nymph that deceives the eye?
Or the pale-fac’d king that takes no delight?
Or the naked-hued hare that eats the summer’s grass?
Or the red-brained hound that doth scratch?
Or the wild boar that doth scratch?
Or the spotted-fac’d vulture that feeds on the wind?
Or the long-shining tamarind that doth move?
Or the white-crowned tamarind that doth sing?
Or the green-tinted hare that eats the summer’s grass?
Or the robbish

======== CHECKPOINT 037 OUTPUT # 005 ========

sensit a new age,
He hath put an end to the tyranny of youth,
And reigns over the dead of night.
This did she, with a semblance of truth,
Thy beauty did in his grace deceive:
But when his beauty had begun,
Her beauty, her fair perfection gave way,
And his fairest colour gave him form,
And fairest form, like his own, gave offence.
“If thou wilt, then kill me, and let me spend eternity
In thy self-defiling fiend,
And live till I make thee thy slave,
For if thou die, then shall my life live in thee.
‘O,’ quoth she, ‘we will kill thee in revenge;
The moment thy life is past my leisure,
And thou shalt be the boar’s prey, which never defends thee;
When thy life mayst survive me,
The time is short, the night long, the day late.
Let me then write to thee this letter:
I know thee best, and shall show thee some;
And be thy sweetest witness, and will bring thee to rest,
So may I in this trial prove thee false,
To be false to me, I am thou.
‘So shall this day I wake up, and this night kill,
And see this night and this day make thee blest:
Thy will, and my will, do these things,
To blot and blot in darkness the blot
Which thou wilt stain and blot again,
To blot the stain that thou wilt blot again.
If thou wilt, then I will blot thee clean,
And sometime be revenged on thee,
Then I will live in thee, in thee,
And let thy sweet love live in me again.
‘And with this, from the banks of the O’Neals,
The stream that runs for water, whose fresh stream
Tears the sky with a thousand pearls,
Comes up his neck, and runs on in his head,
To suck the sorrow that is in his life.
But being gone, his breath is full with grief;
Thine eyes I will blot, and thy heart will laugh;
Then, being gone, my tears do ache,
And in the meantime I sigh, and cry out that thou didst kill;
“Lord, excuse me,” quoth she, “let me be absent:
If this be thy will, and this thou wilt force,
Thou wilt take away thy will from me;
Or else let me live in my will,
As in the world’s smallest wish, but with thy will.
My will, my will, thy will, my will,
Thy will, my will be enough to stop my will;
Then let my sweet desire be your slave, and then I will kill,
As thou hast thy Will when thy Will is still alive.
Yet, this will is thine, and thou shalt not kill me;
Thy will, my will, my will, thy will, thy will
Thy will, my will, thy will will, thy will, thy will
Thy will, thy will, thy will, thy will, thy will, thy will,
My will, my will, thy will, thy will, thy will, thy will,
thy will, my will, thy will, thy will, thy will,
Then thy will, thy will, thy will, thy will, thy will, thy will,
will hold the way out of the world,
As Tarquin did through his many foes.
‘But in his store-house he hears a groan,
In the shop-keeping-place where his wife lies;
And as he walks by, she shakes her head sadly;
She is dead, and he still lives,
And he still lives, and she still lives,
Like a cloud dead on the mountain top;
Her light being outshone by the beating sun,
His bright nature in darkness is bereft,
But beauty in pure form shines in every part.
“O thou whose light canst not kill me,
Whose eye cannot see, whose heart cannot hear me?
Whose lips seem to say, ‘Lo this vile crime,
This ill-doing hand, this foul beast,
The earth’s foundation hath been broken,
That thou through all this earth’s worth canst enrich.
O not the days of thy youth,
Have I not felt thy will, thy will, thy will, thy will,
That I have told thee all these days, and know not how,
To this or that of thy will I will tell:
Whose will will is this, and why is it there?
What shall my will do with thee, that mayst thou hast power,

======== CHECKPOINT 038 OUTPUT # 001 ========

As thou art my sweet mistress, so shall I be.”
Then said I, with such force and force
As is the semblance of a strong-willed beast,
That it shakes upon the ground, and flies
At your trespass with the force of a lion.
For when I did speak thus, he saw a face full of care,
Which in one swift motion drew on the wind,
To blow your sorrows away with her gentle kiss.
I hate to have such a passion with men,
But when lust, being mad, hath put me to death,
To see all things with my sinful eye,
That I in thy dark, ugly eye,
May do thy self the good of good,
And in thee thy part should my body make the hell
Of youth, and youth, and age, and age!
When thou art old and of youth and of youth,
And when thou art old and of youth and age,
And when thou art old and of youth and of youth,
And when thou art old and of youth and of youth,
And when thou art old and of youth and of youth,
And when thou art old and of youth and of youth,
And when thou art old and of youth and of youth,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,
And when thou art old and of old,

======== CHECKPOINT 038 OUTPUT # 002 ========

deceive all their own sin
And make them, for your sake, your enemies, your friends.
If any of your fair women shall betray him,
By thy word, thy deed, thy part in his disgrace.
When thou hast come from Troy,
Thy beauty’s blood shall stain thee with all thy graces.
‘O, my love! my love! let me be thou so kind,
That thou canst forgive my false infirmity;
I swear it not, and I will bear it on thy side.
So shall I be revenged on thee in this.
To bear her on thy side I will basely fly;
That is why I will not fly by her side.
‘But if thou break the law, be thy fair, and not my brand:
Thy self in me in others in me,
Thy self in thee be damned, and not mine:
The thief is my friend; the worthless he is,
The one in me that steals the prize is my friend,
My self in him is my thief;
And thou that by thy self I have committed,
is thy self the first thief?
But if thou steal my treasure, why hast I not my share?
And if my treasure be thy thief, why hast I not my share?
And if my treasure be thy thief, why hast I not my share?
And if my treasure be thy thief, why hast I not my share?
And if my treasure be thy thief, why hast I not my share?
How many a beggar hath she in his way,
Who buys her from a loutish pelleter;
And then he bids her stay a little while,
And then she doth stop and say: “O comfort, dear friend,
I have seen thy face all along,
A little through the clouds, and deep in the sea,
I have seen thy brow, and it hath done
The blot on my face that I know not what to do.
Let me thus be the first to tell,
That I am such a wretch, that I do defy thee:
My life depends upon thy fair favours,
And that of many a thousand fairer begets.
That is to say, every eye that sees thee
Hath seen thee before, I have never seen thee;
But thou, despite of all thy beauty, in my glance,
Doth seem like to me like a devil, worse off.
Yet I hate him more than I hate thee;
For to me he is like a man imprisoned in a cell;
And to him I have been painted, so I love thee more.
His sad moan is so brief, his sigh so strong,
He seems to moan, and it so strongly shakes his hand:
He takes, and feels, and feels for his beloved;
So, too, is he mad, and yet still he cries;
Like a beggar that thinks he must die,
The world so aweth, and his eyes so bright:
Thus his voice makes my heart murmur in pain;
And so he sings, and my heart beats so fast;
so he sings, and my heart beats so hard;
So he sings, and my heart beats, and my heart beats so hard;
So he sings, and my heart beats, and my heart beats,
And I tremble as he goes, and so do I beg his pardon:
But this, that all this rest he speaks,
He can give no more, and yet none can give,
For to him I am made captive,
And prisoner to be stole again.
But the traitor would not dare to speak again,
He is master of that vile slave,
And master that vile slave, that shall ever rob thee,
And rob thy sweet life of it’s beauty:
‘Tis he to make war on his life, and be his prisoner,
For death’s stingeth, and beauty’s stingeth:
His prey is still alive, and death’s poisoneth:
For he that is slain shall live but to beguile thee,
And so die with him, and no more with thee.”
‘”He is not an eye to me, nor my neighbour’s,
Nor my lady my dear dear friend to love;
But if by chance such a thing should come from thee,
Let him have a better name than this, and a worse name,
That my heart might sing and my soul sing.’
And as she is speaking, a cloud hath descended,
Which from afar in his shadow falls
A thousand misty-like eyes, whose shining parts doth light,
Which on their sunken eyne behold
A vapour that their misty eyes so grossly ill,
Have smeared on our face, and on our brows.
“O how

======== CHECKPOINT 038 OUTPUT # 003 ========

ideologically a common one,
And all my parts together as one,
In one; that’s why my picture so well is loved.
The one hath power to do all things, the other to kill,
That neither art, nor thing, but both be.
This division I made in mind,
Since my love so well is true;
My truth so well is untrue;
That truth so well is false,
For love’s truth is so false,
That not his will but it be foisted on him:
If he have not, then that is his own end.
‘Nor can I, I confess, desire the way,
The way of hell, I assure thee of no end,
And I assure thee, my love cannot be cruel,
The thing my love did do is not be done.
For hate to do this, I would do it in secret,
Being proud, that no honour might fear,
No honour in this I have committed.
This denial doth the world so readily believe,
That she fears nothing, or would rather say
That this ill did her dear befallen body;
Her beauty so much the more commend’d,
That in all her beauty her beauty so praise’d,
Is in her blood so much admired,
And yet so is love so despised,
That I must say in her praise she did prove
Of her beauty’s truth, and truth so poor.
Thence with more sighs the world hear her complain,
And sighs from the eyes of men like fools,
For her beauty so grossly reprehended.
‘I will not love thee as I have loved thee before,
But in this, you may be happy, I must confess:
The thing that you most fear, is worse than being mad.
To me, it was a comfort and the cure.
My best I never thought fair in all my beauty;
What a shame then then my beauty to behold,
Thou art like a lamb that chides;
I do not weep, nor look upon thy face,
But cry, ‘Father, thou lov’st me, and I am gone.’
The world’s fair sun, fair flower, pure heart,
Sweet heart, sweet cheeks, and straight fair face,
From whom thou pour’st thy fair self all that remain.
O, my beloved child, as thou nursest,
And yet thy love did make me blind,
But now the eyes of men with my beauty are
As bright as thy fair self still.
How then my love is so blinded
My love, now I must excuse thee,
For thou didst steal my life from me.
What a disgrace it was to me then!
My poor mistress’ eyes thou dost see,
Whose lifeless shape the sickly eyes dote,
And to thy beauty’s sickly brow so mock:
Where is the beauty’s pride? where is my pride?
Where is my pride? where is my shame?
Where is my shame? where is my shame?
Where is my shame? where is my shame?
When thou art thus restored to me,
My life shall live in thy beauty’s blot;
For beauty’s blot shall never fade so,
And in the same way shall I live in beauty’s blot.
And thus far from this base ill I do deny,
Hath shielded my beauty from all danger,
And shielded me from death, to live eternal.
So is it, love, that I am so abhorred,
that when this vow is made,
I have it out in open war.
The sweetest smell in heaven I swear
Will not be odourless, nor no sweet smell there.
O, what an honour! so full of sorrow
That, like a drunken unicorn, he wanders about,
As the wind is unseasonable night,
Which poor Lucrece breeds with wild discontent;
Till with his boisterous antics Lucrece’ father lends him aid;
And the two weeping lovers join;
For though they seem to kiss each other’s wounds,
In truth they shall not have it.”
So now the world will bear witness
That love’s true hue is in all things grey:
For beauty’s pure hue, though pure in hue,
Can but obscure this pure hue, and thus do good
(Even as Venus’ sun doth still glow in night)
Thy beauty’s pure hue, if true, would do me good.
As I, in love, by thy help do excuse
Thy body’s infection with the infection,
This infection is cure’d not with cure,
But by your aid thy body’s infection,
Which for thy body’s infection is cure’d.
To this cure she replies, O thou art cured,
And for me

======== CHECKPOINT 038 OUTPUT # 004 ========

reflection to make me your own queen.
O, if that fortune in her favour were not true,
Then beauty is my enemy, and she my friend;
For if her true, mine too my self may mock her,
I have both in my head and in mine.
‘And be not deceived that I did betray thee,
That thou shalt not accuse me of that which I have said.
For love, for love, for love,
For love, if that love be true,
It is a falsehood to say I did do it;
And if it be true, it is a fraud to say
No foul of her, but that she did it for thee.
‘Then was the wretch whose knife the lion slew,
And the bastard bastard bastard that is my friend,
Till in me she did summon up the dead;
And to the roaring lion he thrusts,
Akin’d his long-pus’d spear, which in his hand did fly,
And to my loving friend’s eye the bird fly:
Such was my friend’s delight, that my cheek did blush.
That thou art his pupil thou dost behold,
And that the rest of thy art doth wonder
When nature’s fair flower shall flower on me,
Like flowers that on the ground grow.
To me thee art the storehouse, where thou store’st,
Then let me say, my love, thou hast not the eyes,
But see ‘twixt the eyes of two;
Whose eyes, dimpled with dimpled light,
Are as night-sad and sad as night-wanderers:
Or else like a swerving boar,
He chides the birds, and flies about,
For he is deaf; but if his hearing be so weak,
He shall not be able to see thee,
For he is dumb and dumb hath such a mind.
‘But ’tis you, my friend,’ quoth she, ‘that I hold to this;
And I am thy husband, to whom you owe my life.
O love, that you such a thing as this
Make me your mistress, that I may breed your love.’
“Ah!” quoth she, “my love!” quoth she;
But how can it then be, if my love be so ill?
If he is so maligned, why in my state?
But why is it that I do not love him so well?
If he have been mine, my mistress is mine,
And I thy husband is mine;
I love him that makes me live to die,
That I should die, thy servant to die.
For why then shall my love survive this death,
In my love, my mistress’ love?
He, she, she, he, she, she, she;
All alone, one by himself,
Within a few embracing bosoms lay;
And he in a joint entombed in
A band of embracing silken flowers lay,
Like the woeful night-gazer that he seeks
In the barren plain of the field,
As if an unseen hand, having touched
The helpless babe’s wrack, would put down his eyes,
And all hearts on edge would bow with him;
But he who sits by, and looks on her,
Will straight-forwardly kiss her, and say, ‘Ah! she is my wife.’
“O truth! but ’tis the truth,
That I am thy slave in such a shameful deed:
Then thou, my slave, am I guilty of shameful deed:
Thy slave, my master, be guilty of my shame:
Youth, thou art my youth, and thou art my doom.’
She goes, and her husband, and she to the river,
Like to one in sorrow’s embrace,
She begs her maid, ‘Sweet mistress,’ and he replies:
‘Thou art my husband,’ quoth she, ‘and thou art my husband,
And I love thee as one; so shalt thou live.’
But she replies, ‘I never did see thy face,
And never saw thee in that I saw thee.
‘”But, madam, didst thou see the sad-fac’d crow,
That on his wings did fly and wither
Like a poisonous caterpillar.
Whose venom’d tail he lasciv’d like a caterpillar,
Inching the creature up, and, like a gazelle,
Luring the poor falcon to its prey;
The prey, though unaware, would not leave;
The prey, though unaware, would not leave;
To the gazelle, it would not leave;
“Thy friend,” quoth she, “this ill-fac’d crow
Calls to my ear: “My sweet friend, if my sweet friend

======== CHECKPOINT 038 OUTPUT # 005 ========

pert, in the general state of being,
In every part of his being, being at rest.
But whereof he hath basely striv’d against me,
That on my account my neglect hath him done.
That whereof I have him spent most troubled,
As in my absence he strives at distraction;
For whereon he strives most I must be woo’d:
And when I my self to be woo’d shall find,
In him the wooer will be the wooer, and I the wooer.
If it please thee, then make me thy friend,
By thine own consent shall be my store:
But if it please thee that I do offend thee,
Thy self thee is to blame, if thou wilt not be friend.
Yet with thine self in this discord,
No one else can speak but me.
When I say thus, it is the will of my will,
To speak and bear to others the same.
As thou wast queen of so many, so did I boast,
Of that which thou lov’st still to live,
That still, though thou be no more, still am I alive,
If ever in this state of yours could stand,
My self in this life would die and thou be none.
This I did confess to my love,
that my true love was not thy friend,
And yet am I now a stranger to my friends,
In spite of thee, not to make my friend sad.
I might as yet have married, as now I have,
Some unkind, my dear old acquaintance;
A kiss on the lips, or some soft but firm thing,
Or my own cheek, if I’d lived, to have kissed,
Or to kiss thee again in the name of mine,
Even now it is my fault, my fault is my fault,
That in my self you love so much more,
Than you in me you love more, in me more;
Than in me, it is thy will, my will,
That I in your self in your self live,
Or you in me in your self live,
Whilst in me, it is the other’s will,
That you in me, you in me live.
O how I feel, in that false heaven
That in thy heavenly image appears
Each child of thy earth that thou make’st,
Sets forth forth in a womb thee shouldst not breed,
With thy self-love’s sweet semblance hast thou to live,
Which, in thy self thou make’st, remains thee;
But thy self, which is thy self so loved,
Is thyself to me so dear, thy self so dear,
That all thy parts were together thy self made.
In me thou art all, and in me thou my part.
This, to myself I am all, and in me thou my part,
Thy self all is all, and in me thou my part.
So is it not for me that in this place
My heart thou fill’st, and in thy heart all is drown’d?
Is it not then that thou lov’st to live?
For that I did live, thou lov’st to live:
Thy life is dead, and in mine I live,
And in mine I live, and in thee I live,
Thy life is no life, though thou make my life live,
And then thou art dead, and in me I live.”
‘”But what else is there that should say
This is his invention: that some sweet flower should bide,
To put a thousand little stains in his fair face;
Or, what better, than to stain the cheek with thy blood?
Or to rob a beggar with thy blood?
Or to swallow the life, or drown the life,
Or to sell the life, or take a hundred thousand lives,
Or do you think to live and sell a thousand lives,
Then to me nothing more will say,
That thou art my flower and I my flower’s flower;
So mine is my life, and that life is mine.”
‘The question is, ‘What else are there that should say
This is his invention: that some sweet flower should bide,
To put a thousand little stains in his fair face;
Or, what better, than to stain the cheek with thy blood?
Or to rob a beggar with thy life?
Or to swallow the life, or take a thousand lives,
Or do you think to live and sell a thousand lives,
Then to me nothing more will say,
That thou art my flower and I my flower’s flower;
So mine is my life, and that life is mine.”
‘”Why then,’ quoth she,’my son is gone,
My dear love, to be

======== CHECKPOINT 039 OUTPUT # 001 ========

swat the fair sun, to make it fairer.
‘Fie,’ he say, ‘it’s not that I love thee more than mine.’
For though my brow be red, my heart be white,
Nor my voice be rude, my brow nor lips rude.
Whence did thy tongue go, that in mine ear so sing?
So sweet a love did his lips betray,
That they should weep, if their tears did cover their eyes:
So sweet a kiss did his lips betray his eyes;
And all his tender affection was sad, but love,
Was fair in that he did win.
If that be not so, my lord, you have made me such a fool,
That I hate to hear him say that I did not mean it.
So therefore I did thy dear Lucrece sing,
As a poet might, for verse, that a fool would express.
‘Fair queen, she hath taught me so many tricks,
That I should not love her still to say,
‘My friend was slain by the swine that dwell’d in thee.’
‘But what do you think is the better part?’ quoth she.
‘Look what thou art, O world’s fair!
What beauty is thou, what sweet form thou so lov’st,
That makes my tears green, my tears red.
If you see beauty in my tears, be of good cheer,
I should make your face the same;
Even here one by one you see your beauty spread.
The roses are batt’ry’d, the blossoms of the rose
are subdued, the roses white,
And all my love in thy pure form remain.
Yet love is not of this kind. O no! if you see what beauty is,
If you look at it as it lies,
Then beauty is of the present no beauty to know,
As straw and bone no straw can make him stand,
O yet why then thy sweet semblance,
Of all my love and most of all of my heav’d heav’d heav’ry,
To live in thee doth make me happy,
And I must live with thee for evermore.
“But then what shall I say?” quoth she. “It is a general grave,
That thou shalt not touch till I return.
For this will kill me, and thou shalt not touch my head.
For as the wind blows, so shall my face go,
And my liver burn with desire, for this I love,
And all my spirit with longing keep still:
But to thy self thou wilt not live till I am dead.
‘O, that thou couldst, thou shouldst survive;
And as thou survive’st, my body will not mourn,
Though my sin in thine self be a remission.
Now if aught could be done,
To rid thee of this trespass, thou shouldst make it right,
Thou art all my friend, and I my friend is dead.
O, no, thou art all my friend, and I the other,
My body is my friend, thy soul mine,
And I thy self am his slave:
But this vile deed, which thy poor heart
Crushes in my pride by thy cruel heart’s cruel deed:
If thy soul could do me justice,
To shun my self from thee so undeserved,
I will kill thee first, and thou shalt kill me soon.
Thou art the sun, sun doth no sun,
Nor the moon the day that sets thee there:
O no, no, no, no, no, no;
If that should be thy self, and thou art dead,
If that should be thy self, and thou art dead,
If that should be thy self, and thou art dead,
O then I will kill thee first, and thou shalt kill me soon.
Even so my eyes that love can see me so dead,
Are all but blinded by the fire that burneth in them;
My eye, like the sickly-blackened star that peepeth,
Doth seem to see the fire, and yet is not hot.
“O,” quoth she, “once more!”—”once more!” quoth he;
Then quoth she, “once more, once more!”
And so he begins:—”This morning a lion doth trot by,
And this gentle boar, which he holds fast in his hoof,
Sits upon a shady brook, wherein his owner lies,
To eat him up in some banquet of proud churls.
‘But fear me,’ quoth she, ‘I have no fear,
In the fact of his power,
His lust, his passion, his passion’s conquest;
And when he hath writ on the deed,
His eye, like that

======== CHECKPOINT 039 OUTPUT # 002 ========

railing, for he hath no fear, neither fear of shame,
Nor fear of shame with him that loves,
Nor fear, nor fear, of lust that lours her,
Nor fear, nor fear, of covetousness,
Nor desire for love, neither, nor none at all,
He hath no shame; nor fear of shame,
Nor fear, nor fear, of lust that lours her,
Nor fear, nor fear, of lust that lours her,
Nor fear, nor fear, of lust that lours her,
nor fear, nor fear, of lust that lours her,
Nor fear, nor fear, of lust that lours her:
Nor fear, nor fear, of lust that lours her,
Nor fear, nor fear of lust that lours her,
Nor fear, nor fear of lust that lours her:
And yet thou art thy advocate to my verse,
And to the louring praises of men,
But, as one of them in bed, sighs: ‘Lord, this is not the bed!’
His eyes have sheathed their jeweled eyne,
Her cheeks, their cheek, her blood,
They that in her arms would not break their wills:
To the world their eyes did extend,
Their mouths would utter praises, her cheeks would blush,
And her eyelids would stop the sound.
And in this way she interprets
Her own self as if from a dream,
Or from some strange abode, or abode,
Which she may in her true self plausibly say
Is mistress to a strange abode,
Nor can she in the abode say her mistress doth love;
nor yet for this I have no power
To persuade, nor ever want, nor ever give,
Nor ever be afraid to say ‘I love you’.
Even so she says ‘Well done, I have,’
He replies ‘I love well, and love well still.’
‘”O madam! thou hast lost, and must thou return again!’
she cries, and turns away again,
And doth turn and look at him with that white,
Like a dire-sighted wolf that doth stay afar;
And yet the wolf bears his foul coy face,
And as soon as his prey is gone he leaps back,
To catch the hare before it kills him.
For if a woman should lose a husband by him,
Or else by accident she was his wife,
‘For by thy deed I grant thou mine,
The earth can no more enrich thee than mine.
Even as if the sun were his shadow,
The sun that doth in the morning shade doth stay,
To put him where he will not remain.
O lest she could not say it herself,
The eye hath no such virtue in the glass,
Which like a jade he doth display,
Which like a marigold he doth display,
As a jeweled brinish crystal,
Who like a jeweler doth display,
Which like a marigold doth display,
As a jeweler doth display,
as one that did stain in thy seat,
By thy stain will this blot remain?
But if thou wilt not stain in thy seat,
Then by thy stain will this blot remain?
By thy stain will this blot remain?
For if thou wilt stain in thy seat,
Then by thy stain will this blot remain?
For if thou wilt stain in thy seat,
Thy stain will this blot remain?
‘Poor wretch, if thou canst live with that wretch,
then life is death, thou live with life.
‘”Look, this wretched creature that flies by,
Sits upon his belly like a cherubin;
And, lo, it seems to have a curious mind,
Who, lo, in it lies the fright of all fear;
Sits upon his back like a boar,
Sits upon his belly like a lamb,
Sits upon his back like a boar,
sits upon his back like a lamb,
He doth now bow to her, and bids her sing;
And to her gracious welcome bows it in his face,
To show it how it desires her pleasure.
O most impious thing that ever heaven hath wrought!
A woman’s disgrace would not seem so;
But thou hast thy right, to have it restored.
So is it with me, dear friend, that I say,
That in the face of the world, and all things else,
The world’s most wondrous beauty hath lost,
And with him the world’s worst lies.
But now I behold the sun shine in a deep,
And when his shining sun doth shine in a cloud,
He stands and stares

======== CHECKPOINT 039 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Glow a red eye for his wife’s sake:
To kiss his brow and kiss his cheek,
To wink at her face with white, and smile at her cheeks,
To pluck her from her bed, to kiss her breast with white,
To give her an unwholesome blow, to kiss her tongue,
To kiss her hair, and kiss it again,
But not yet such fair blot as those cheeks are.
‘”When I look upon my youth, and I think I see
And you in your prime, yet you in me are youthless,
And you in me as you in youth are old,
So is the sun who sets his splendour in my face,
Till in the west my love to you appears,
And then I for your sake stay on my westward coast,
And stay on those that live by me.
‘”This night is but a dream, this day is still,
And tomorrow it is yet another day;
For then I still have the night to see your face,
Though tomorrow your bright sun shall be blot on my face,
That in the west your dark west shall be blot on my face,
That in the east your dark east shall be blot on my face,
That in the east your shining sun shall in my face,
be the time-moved creation of men.
‘”If that be the case, thou shalt still be thy youth,
Since I in thee am made of time and no space,
Then be wise not to make me grow old by age;
Love conquers all, and thou art the last.
The world is made for love, and Love’s will is so strong,
That no mortal can put it off.”
And with this, he begins to curse the day,
And every man that doth not love be his friend,
He doth not love her well, or else he will stay,
If ever she thinks him love; she will not be troubled;
To whom he will confound with alacrity,
And make her sigh his sighs, till he give her more.
‘”For I in thee is thine, that in me life doth lie;
And if thou wilt live, thou wilt die.”
To her tears, she doth not know what she shall say;
her tears are as soft as snow,
They being gentle did not pelt her fair well;
She cries, “O Lord, how canst thou wail my woes?”
A nun in mourning tears, she says:
“Since thou dost make me sick with my loathsome tale,
That thou canst live, then thine is eternal life.”
And lo, as the birds chide the deep-red tree,
The red rose, which in winter blooms so sweet,
Doth give shade to the violet’s green;
Her white cheeks do stain with red,
And yet she wears her fair cheeks with all her might.
‘And now she hath drawn the lines of my shame,
From the bed I had my heart kept asleep by,
And drawn in a straight line from me where lies thy life:
The world in my outward self I’ll dwell,
But as a world in a world inward thou shalt dwell,
I will no more lie with thee till thou reigned king,
Thou made my shame, my shame my praise:
Now I will bear thy shame so, and live a queen,
Whose pride in thee I to scorn, till thou rid’st me of thee.
For in thy image were I not thy beauty,
Thy beauty doth stand in thy face, and in thee doth lie.
Thy life, and thy life in me is waning,
Thy beauty doth lie in thy face, and in thee doth lie.
Thus is she drawn a line from the grave,
So thou wilt have my life that lives in thee:
Thy beauty lives in me, thou living doth live in me.
‘But if thou wilt die, thou wilt live in me too.
Look how I, with my life in thee fading,
Kill this world’s only hope of peace, and make a hell of it,
The world’s only hope that ever liveth shall live,
Even for this sake here and there,
Thy posterity’s sweet death shalt not be.
‘Tis true, that I have kept this false oath,
That thou wilt live, and I will kill thee with my deed:
Yet this, thou wilt live, and I will die with thy life.
My sin, my sin, my sin! my sin thou wilt kill me with thy deed!
Thou wilt live, and I will live with my sin!
Thou w

======== CHECKPOINT 039 OUTPUT # 004 ========

ever the true light of day;
Whilst he takes care to make the night clear,
So bright night is the star to his fancy;
And for him the night is his own heaven,
Thou hast thy best, but in my love,
The sun is thy fair sun,
And I thy false love.
O thou, whom all these proud spheres so well know,
The golden rings that bind their owner so.
That his eye still doth read these strange words,
That they in his thought are but words,
To give physic to the sick and blind.
To kill the fire that is so warm in thee!
Thy eyes are my sun, and thy sun’s flame;
Whilst they in me make those beauties black,
The sun that burns in the sunless night,
Whose fire neither scorching nor scorching nor burning,
Hath kept warm in thy cheeks and eyes,
By that fire thy soul doth burn,
And in thy body is warmed by thy fire;
Thou art a pure angel, in thy self doth love,
And to my sweet angel I’ll do my love,
In thyself thy self thy self shall dally.”
This said, with great haste she runs away,
And all at once by some stormy hellen-hour
A desperate desperate piteous cry beeps,
from the far-off hill she ducks,
Like a lame gull in a stormy bay;
She falls and falls again, like a child,
like a beggar that fares alone
To pay the lode he owes her;
She stops her horse, she neighs, and runs again,
She will not return, for she is a lamb.
And now Adonis’ eyes are dimmed,
Like dim-witted fools, with Ajax’ foul face;
Thy face with Ajax’ foul-smelling brow;
Her hair and crystal cheek were both drenched in tears;
So her cheeks, that blackening hue,
Shook Adonis’ eye from the fire,
And thus ‘gins the Roman anthem to Ajax:
Now my Lucrece, thy Lucrece’ time’s time’s end,
And for my sake shall come to an end this morning,
By force of will, by force of heart, or by the will of men.
My Collatine and I, as two sad actors,
Of one and the same hue,
Each bearing the same picture, with their own parts,
Making a spectacle for our grief,
To make our souls more wretched in want,
Of seeing the same black, and being the same hue.
But here I saw the desperate hour lies,
To kill her or get rid of her:
So now I do my utmost to make my love seem better,
And do so with more ruth than she could bear.
And lo here she again doth speak of me:
As she, with grief’s face, did say,
Love in love is but an instrument for th’ obtaining;
To that end, for love it is thine own art.
“Since then I saw him on the way,
From behind the bushes he threw a boar,
Borne the young eunuch in a chain.
My heart hath been silent with him since then,
Like the clouds, not for him that hears his boast.
“Then I will thy maid’s bed,” he says,
“O mistress, do not say, ‘My love will not stay
My slander to your court, nor my shame to your sight.’
For what’s mine will in thee remains?—
Love is love that lives, and for love that lives.
‘This thought he takes for his desire;
The thought she concludes his intent so.
O what a folly this thought should make!
For by her words he did become mad,
And now she with her tears, her proud rage,
His eyes have emptied his lips, tears in her eyes,
That she herself hath emptied out in tears,
And in his tears with his blood the thought
Of others having emptied themselves in him still.
“Since then I saw him on the way,
From behind the bushes he threw a boar,
Borne the young eunuch in a chain.
My heart hath been silent with him since then,
Like the clouds, not for him that hears his boast.
‘For what’s mine will in thee remains?—
O love, my love is mine alone,
And by that will I be free;
And you with me with yours is neither free.
O therefore with your strength I vow to keep my friend;
For with yours I am no more able
To live in love than you, and yet you still are,
To me though my strength exceed your worth

======== CHECKPOINT 039 OUTPUT # 005 ========

NE in the sky, in this unspotted wilderness,
So that no mortal eye would gaze upon thee,
Nor eye that sees thee in my self,
Or in those which love me, but of thee alone.
‘Tis true, that thou hast but given me up,
To steal thy fame, and rob thy fame of thy love;
And that thy unrecid’d sweet taste
In my self is inimitable to my sense,
For no outward sense but my self is worth so much,
That if I was your self, mine eyes are a thousand eyes,
Love and pride and slander and wrong will live,
And if you with my self you live my self dead,
And if you with me you live my self living,
And with you living my self living dead,
And living my self dead my self living dead,
thou shalt not live that which I say iniquity,
Thy eyes for my sake thou dost seek, thou shalt not live that which I say,
Thy eyes for my sake thou dost seek, thou shalt not live that which I say.
“Thy eyes, love’s fair queen, thy fair queen’s face!
If thou canst kill me, thou art my only hope,
Then no, for my sake thou art my only hope,
Thy eyes, that made my beauty shine, do as thou didst,
Thy fair eyes, that made my beauty dim and bright,
Thy fair eyes, that made my beauty shine dim and bright,
Thy fair eyes, that made my beauty dim and bright,
Thy fair eyes, that made my beauty dim and bright,
The beauty of beauty’s day shall dwell here in scorn,
And then he shall seem silly, and seem old,
And then shall he seem old, and seem old again,
And then shall he seem old, and seem old again,
And then shall he seem old, and seem old again.
This time he will be old, and old he will be.
And now she doth leave him alone and goes to bed.
‘The day will not allow me to wake, but I’ll hunt,
And if any break in I’ll be all too glad
To wake up and sleep all alone, and yet wake up again,
For waking in such a place I am contented with:
To wake in that place, I will lie,
And then waking again, I will lie,
To sleep like a miser that wakes so often.’
For some one was he with a band of maids,
Of a kind and kind of colour, each his part
To tie their silken garments in white.
“If they kill me,” quoth she, “I’ll kill them all.”
“If they kill me,” quoth she, “it is enough to kill me.
‘”Why shouldst thou be such a woman’s friend,
To lend her life to such a crime?”
“For love,” quoth she, “love would rob me of mine;
For love, when I am weak, I will slay thee.
That’s what we seek, and if we find nothing,
What’s left, we strive to make our case.”
‘Look how much coal a day needs in a furnace!
coal that can never burn, nor breath any breath!
He that did mine, he will rob me again of mine;
Then to his churl’s eye were drawn a rose,
And his golden eyes were like thine;
Which with burning splendour stood on end so light,
And with silver did he shine on Adonis’ face,
And on Tarquin’s back so did his green.
“Look, young mistress, how often I see
The tender touches of some dear-fondled babe
Lurking precariously beside her,
Like the tender buds of a flower,
Till they have th’ inviting touch imprinted in amber:
As a proud jewel the blossoms doth stand before,
But where is their sweet jewel, no less precious?
The world hath made fair a cruel tyrant
To give sweet pleasure to men’s faces,
To give sweet pleasure to women’s faces,
For fair and dear is her love’s aim,
And she that harms her enemy’s is his cure.
Her love lives and dies by the strength of her heart.
‘”When I, a boy, like myself alone,
Wore your face with my bare arms before,
Did as the lark to the morn would have me do,
Till the morn would have me bequeath to the tree;
And when I had done, your loving hand was gone,
And then it was dead, and death would not kiss me again.
“Then would my mistress have me do,

======== CHECKPOINT 040 OUTPUT # 001 ========

aldo the queen of Rome’s pride.
‘His face was kind, gentle, and kind;
His arms were modest, his legs were strong, his high legs his low.
His mantle he had not yet touched,
And in his hand lay a simple scroll;
And every where an apothecary laid,
Throwing it on her lips, to make her say:
‘Here it shall stay, my love; here it shall leave,
‘Here it shall be buried, my dear love;
Here it shall linger, my dear love,
Here it shall linger in a prison,
And to die there will be another dead;
And from this black stain the image of youth,
By-passed age shall remain her beauty.’
To give effect to all her mightiness
She bids Adonis farewell, and leaves the chase;
The thought will never leave his tongue;
He will sing, and there shall be no love,
I will have no true friends to lose.
O if there were, Adonis would not be dead!
O if there were but one love, it was but his;
All men make mistakes and make lovers ill,
In love, beauty, and truth do not thrive.
“And now, when I did behold the turtle and the dove,
Who on their wings were glowing like fire,
My beloved birds with purple and flaming fire,
I could not forbear it; but as they did wink,
Then were they in awe at my false sprite;
And as the fire was about to cool, so her face
Became hotter and hotter; so did the dove follow
His venomous salve, whose flames he held there
To pierce the crystal walls of Troy and his people;
His flaming breath, his flaming eye, his flaming spongy beard,
Make no mistake about this; I have not seen one such passion there.
She takes him by the hand, and they both bathe;
A little while she dotes on him, wondering what he is.
He bids her kiss her lips, her tongue writ large.
This advisedly she starts, and there he lies;
Lying prone, his neck his back, his chin on her breast;
her tongue to his own breast that feeds his brain;
His lips to hers, each moving part moans with his tongue;
She hears his eye twitching, his nose droning,
His eye moving, his nose quaking, his lips pursing,
He sings, and the birds dally, and the birds rave:
Now all these creatures, with her lips, with her heart,
Toucheth on and weep on; then is his sigh overcome,
And his tears all quench in the airless night,
Swell’d, quenched, quenched, quenched still.
The sun doth in the prime of life set,
And the moon doth not set till late.
“That she should with her fair flower, with a leaf untuck’d,
With soft napkin in her napkin she lays,
Catching the sun from heaven, where he doth dwell;
Or, if he have, where he doth dwell with her,
Her eyes, which she likely view’d, do open,
As if in some wondrous store of knowledge,
Where he were in the moment, to her his eyes she stares,
Her eyne, which the eyes of men were blind,
Where men see things to their shame,
Her lips, which in his now closed sight
She hath as yet no lips to speak but her voice,
As if that her lips should ever be sealed,
As if his lips themselves should ever be sealed
From the world and down the line that he treads on her.
Her hair, nor loose nor loose nor loose nor loose,
With nor loose nor loose nor loose but loose she begins,
To kiss his lips; and kissing him again she will tear;
The kiss being forc’d, his lips do tend to tear;
his lips shall mine, mine shall be thy mistress’ eyes.
The night, though in the clouds it showers,
The day though in the deep dank dunes it rains,
And despite of all the clouds and the deep rain,
The rain still the earth doth drench the water:
His tears do not stop, their light never doth appear,
But on his cheek and his eye remain the same;
Like that eye which doth that precious jewel show.
‘I will not love thee, O son, for thou art false;
Thy heart dost lie in my breast, and my heart in thy breast,
And thou in thy heart I will lie;
Thy heart dost lie in my breast, and thy heart in thy breast,

======== CHECKPOINT 040 OUTPUT # 002 ========

眘�(And therefore I know thy beauty)
Myself to thy love, and I to thy love’s love,
And yet thou hast left me this, and all is wasted;
O, by the river that feeds her stream,
Or by the fountain where all the dead are buried,
Or by my loving-kindling nurse’s hand,
I have no cure but to kiss, and never forget,
As thou wilt not tell me, but thou dost say,
Mine eyes are bright, mine ears are cold, mine eyes are warm,
And, speaking from their bright vantage, they view me so,
That in my tears they rise up and down.
‘Poor devil, why dost thou turn to me
If I am dead and my body be the object?
No, I have no eyes, but my heart is strong;
And if it have eyes, my heart’s strength shall not break;
And if it have no eyes, mine heart’s strength shall not break;
Nor should my love be weak, as mine eyes are strong.
This is my fault, that I did his will,
And that by my wilful act he hath offended:
That, angry at his trespass, he doth defy,
That he may strike again, and again he be hit.
‘Why then shalt I not be struck with such terror,
as to betray my vow to thee?
‘Why then shall I not be struck with such terror,
As to betray my vow to thee?’
“That’s my husband’s heart,” quoth she, “it’s mine alone;
That’s mine alone, dear friend, and all that to thee;
And all that to thee is lent to nothing;
That it hath for nothing to do with thee,
But to give thine own life to me.
Then would I have died, but I have been
A virgin, and thou thy father’s image:
And thou in mine, to-day I be buried.”
“If it have eyes,” quoth Collatine,
And if it have ears, his will be stronger:
If it have eyes, it shall not break;
For eyes are fools and ears are true,
And ears hear nothing but woe,
And woe hath woe and woe and woe again:
But where all these together together hath power,
The more may say ‘Thyself I am,’
Then mine own will is my will to do good,
The greater part shall know this good will.
‘Why then shall I not be struck with such terror?’
‘Since it is thy will to strike me dead,’ quoth she;
That’s thy body’s ransom, and for my death,
This death in me is my doom:
This death in thee is my guilt:
‘Why then shall I not be struck with such terror?
This death in me is my blameless joy;
This death in me is my guiltless shame:
This death in me is thy joy’s guilt:
This death in me is my joy’s shame:
For joy, the guiltless one,
And joy’s shame in me alone;
For shame in me alone, and sorrow in me
Both in my shame, and in my joy are both here mingled.
How much more for a pleasure in thy pleasure
A pure jewel of true perfection to be
Than a false painting, false ornament,
With false ornament’s false beauty?
With false ornament’s false beauty in my joy!
This, thou hast, the painter shows that
Of beauty’s true purity the true perfection lies.
Look what beauty is made of, and what sense
it can, and the form of it it attains;
To make it the same as that in thee;
The same as that in thee is made;
The same as that in me, thou dost make,
And then that in me thou dost excel,
The same as that in me thou dost excel,
The same as that in me thou dost excel.
And thou wilt prove mine right, by thy fair will,
And thou wilt prove me false to my will,
As by my wilful act thou steal’st from me;
As by my lawful will I violate thee,
As by my wilful act thou trespass on me.
But since thou wilt be my match,
And since thou my true-love’s wilful act,
Thy will and true love’s wilful act shall ever be,
I will not be your true love,
And never be your true-love’s true love.
‘Why then shall I not be thy true love,
And never be your true love,
The greater part shall know this great offence?
That I was your true-love and ‘twixt

======== CHECKPOINT 040 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Flor by some other name than his own were,
But in my absence his true name, the same,
And with such a truth doth he dwell.
To me he speaks as one who is absent,
Or as one that speaks of friends, or lovers’ eyes.
Some say he is dead, some say he is alive,
Both sexes in love, till they have sworn an oath;
And in this oath they swore their friend was:
To him the honour of all was sworn,
That in my absence he would abide
The disgrace of his office and of all his fame:
If it should thence betray him alive,
And he in his honour lose what he stole,
If in him it betrayeth all his store.
I think of Collatine, when he was with her;
But my love never saw her, and now she sees
My sweet love, and I think never of her again;
The thought is but a shadow, and never her sight;
My heart’s choir to her ear, as my lips to her ear;
The choir to my lips’ ears, as their ears the wind doth sing,
That to each part sings, some part for or for listening.
The world’s fair queen, when her fair queen sleeps,
Will weep in his fair bed, ‘gainst thyself;
‘Tis not the night that wakes him, but thy woe,
Thy beauty’s wakefulness doth wake him again.’
‘O that fair morning rain doth rain on my face,
That on it doth overflow with all my light,
And it doth stain my cheeks with rain,
And in my tears do they wrinkle.
O that water in a river might have discharged
Upon the woe-baking clay that doth remain
Of my fair sun, who doth blot the blood of me,
When on his golden wreath doth show,
The world doth scorn his beauty, and his fair face doth stand
In utter shame and blushes of red and white.
“O how thy pride is shaken, thou wilt be thine;
What dost thou make of thine self? thou art thine own image;
What dost thou suppose to change thy self’s will?
What canst thou say that dost thou think to change it?
If this be thy will, thou art all my fame,
Mine is all my fortune, and mine is none;
Their own, mine is all their fame,
My other is all mine, theirs is none:
Their own, mine is all their fame, theirs is none;
They all possess one, mine all, theirs all theirs;
‘Twas not enough, but enough is all;
All that is, to get thee all, one fee to get thee.
“O what foul dost thou steal! be it lawful for me,
To steal thy treasure from thence?
Or, if thou yield, do I steal it from thee,
Thou know’st thou mine, that thou shouldst betray me,
And yet thou wilt steal a prize for stealing.
If thou hast, why dost thou steal from me,
Mine own fortune is my pride, and thou thy self’s
Dost make thy self poor, my self rich:
Or else be thou my self so rich,
That thou’st none, but none thy self thy self dost lie:
So do I not do thy self, to be thy self,
And therefore be I not poor, so be thou poor,
If thou dost do to myself, be thou my self so rich,
And therefore be I not poor, so be thou my self so rich,
So be it with all thee, that thy self dost lie,
To me thou art so poor, to me so rich,
That my self should my self mine self, be thou my self so rich,
And therefore be I not poor, so be thou my self so rich.
thou know’st my heart hath done me wrong, and so
By this it shall appear to me thee,
I hate him, he hates me; and when thou hast done me wrong,
I’ll not be his friend till then I’ll be his friend.
‘But then he doth grin and sigh, and then he frowns,
And then again his lips do quake;
Then, in a rage, his lips do double their lascivious twire,
To strike the lily as it is slain;
Then in a low trembling, black fear he shakes his head,
To kiss the base of a rose;
For then his lips have double their lascivious twire,
To strike the lily as it is slain;
Then in a low trembling, black fear he shakes

======== CHECKPOINT 040 OUTPUT # 004 ========

Ark to this hour have sworn, and to this present war;
Against thee I will fight, and against thee I will defend;
And if thou go and die, I will be the first.”
‘So many times he hath, but seldom the length;
That if he should appear at a fair, he would wink;
But that he did wink at all, his eye to his lips,
To kiss each other’s lips and say,’sweet kiss’.
A thousand times in a thousand twain,
Both sweet and rough drew him from the shore;
Yet never saw the love he sought,
Nor never saw his heart in his cheeks did open;
And in his cheeks all the glory seemed gone,
So was Adonis, Tarquin and Lucrece gone.
“I’ll be thy partner in war,
And then let him make his fair home,”
And to the brine be pluck’d,
Which for Adonis he doth pluck,
And to the knife pluck’d,
But to his friend the pluck’d kill’d be.
So Tarquin and Lucrece do stand still,
That even to that kill’d knife shall suffice
To rob Adonis of a fair feast.’
‘Then be not conceited with thy faults;
My love is but to give the poor unkind
Those that are of thee alone;
And if the time be short, then be of use to me;
That I may be thy dear friend and your friend
When you should conquer this world and make me conquer another.
A thousand excuses should she make;
O most welcome I may find:—O none, none can take;
My love, dear love, is but a thing,
And I do not love you, I do not hate you,
Or else you will hate me, at your will,
For that which you hold in me is as dear to me.
Look upon what my sins in love have done;
What my sins in love have done to others,
In me you shall be kings, and to me as slaves.
‘And now the day comes that mine eyes behold
The day of thy doom and thy dear life,
And in that which thou dost feed, all the rest is forfeit.
To make amends to this cruel day,
Or else to gain freedom from this torture,
As thou shalt by thy deeds find,
In all my affairs hast this cruel day kept.
‘The night before,’ quoth she, ‘I found my darling babe
Sometime in my soft bed, on a wet napkin,
Bearing forth the dreadful news of the direst doom;
The wind, in whose womb she lay, had blown
The dead of night and all things notelf,
Which, like a windy day, struck her from her light;
The wind was cloudless and the vapour was
Distilled from her sight, as rain from a raining sky.
“Woe!” quoth she, “this is so?—I do not know
For the heart’s duty to bail her, and to make her abide
The dire threat thereof; but that my love
Could not prevent her from being seiz’d by the stranger;
‘Tis not fair,’ quoth she, ‘that my love should spend her days
Sleeping among the bushes, or in the boughs of trees;
Such childish thoughts, such senseless lies,
Whose proud, proud tails are to hold the heavens within,
Which are their own bounds, enclosing them
From the deep sea to the skies above,
Whilst mine eye and ear remain mute,
To let the deep ocean think them dead;
Or else from the deep sea stay there,
As from a deep ravisher’s wave, or from a gale.
To do the thing we like, we must do it quickly,
And not hours beforehand, if the mind are awake.
‘But wilt thou find time to go on the hunt?—
Why, wilt thou time-like to see the face
Make the best of several?
If thou be wise, to time’s wits thou shouldst choose,
And to wits thou shouldst not time to woe,
And time’s most precious jewel to eternity:
Time’s precious jewel is lost when it is most desired,
Thy youth is mated with grief, and grief with youth;
O, what’s new is thou when thou art old?
Thy grief in thy grief is old age’s gain,
Age’s grief is youthful age’s loss;
Thy youthful youth’s grief is old age’s gain;
O, what’s new is thou when thou art old?
Thy youthful shame thou art when thou art old,
Thy youth’s youth’s youth’s shame;

======== CHECKPOINT 040 OUTPUT # 005 ========

XY-rayed and crystal;
Her hair and downy smoothness make it shine:
She sings of him in her bed, and doth complain she is so ill,
For her love so much to himself confounds her.
‘Poor maiden,’ quoth she, ‘it was thy right, and it is thy duty,
To kiss my hand: that it might be kissed by thee,
To kiss thy sweet face: but if by thy sweet virtue
Thy virtue should not kiss my cheek, then shall I die!’
So says she Adonis, and it shall be thy death,
So shall the death of love be thy right:
Then be thou the prince of all men’s misfortunes!
Then be thou the sovereign of all that is left
Thy love’s dead-ending fame: then thy name is still called:
And be thou the true god of all that is left
The ashes of your deceased love,
Till all-supremes, with the Collatine,
And the Philistines of Greece, give this happy tidings,
From the Trojan dead to life in thee,
To be the prince of all antiquity,
And to conquer all antiquity with him,
If thou dost then make the world a little sad:
For if by thee I make the world old,
Or if by thee I make the world a little bloody,
Thy honour doth every tongue express,
That in him my music is so dear to bear,
That they say it was thy mistress’ breath,
Which in it he purloin’d, blushing and sweating,
Which made all their praises in one.
Thy hand, his foot, his chin, his eyes’ faces!
The world hath a mind of thy things,
And a body of mine that is your parts,
Whose parts thy worth is thy quality’s measure,
And parts I thy worth’s measure is thy shame,
And all things thy worth is thy glory:
O no! let my worth be reckoned not with your part!
Thy worth be reckoned with your part! be proud! be proud of me!
Thy worth be not thought of that which thou didst do
In other men’s shows, but in their sight,
For I am thy beauty’s foil, thy counterfeit:
This beauty made thee my friend, and I my friend’s disgrace,
In spite of all my harms that mine eyes may see,
And all my faults, my true faults, in spite of their sight!
So to thy false love’s false spite I write,
And in thy false slander, my true shame to do.
“And then the turtle, that feeds on the sweet smell,
As a summer’s morning comes on the fair day,
With young birds, and tame birds, and fair-sized creatures,
Doth greet them as they do in the hive,
And yet it is rude to kiss a turtle;
It is said in honourable Lucrece’ tale,
That one of his golden tails he doth hold fast;
Another holds it still, and in the other place,
When either should presently leap,
Or being done, would fly in all directions.
To this night the birds sing, and in chorus do fly
Till, when they have made an end of singing,
In a burning passion their woes begin:
‘My dear dear, this is a dream;
This is some cruel story: see what it contains;
Then how can the story tell that
I am dreaming here? what can I say?
The story then gives me no more light to say,
than that he stole my heart and left
The world away with him and his lust.
‘”His tongue was red as his blood,
And from his lips like whirlwinds spread
The poisonous vapours that come from hell.
But in the brook whose midst the birds lay,
Who, hearing the shrieking of their young,
Whose nests some in the water do chant,
The birds themselves exclaiming their woes,
Who should, on that shore, receive the deadly sting?
Then, sweating profane, should he be put to death!
The night will not bring his death, though his soul bleed;
The night will be brief, though his blood be spill’d;
The day is weary, though his blood be spill’d;
The old will weep, though his blood be spill’d;
The new will cheer, though his blood be spill’d:
Yet not the day shall last in his weary time.
‘His lips, like velvet, were lint-red,
Their silken parts were all white,
And all their fine qualities dangled in their air;
Yet on their white, like velvet and their trim
Grossly resembling the faces of man and

======== CHECKPOINT 041 OUTPUT # 001 ========

Savage for that time spent in mourning;
And all those days of her youth to come,
She would not think but in the west would frown,
As when in Rome she once had looked dead.
“What are you?” quoth she, “wanting to do me injury?”
O no, my dear, I’ll not do her injury
O no, my dear, my dear, her eyes are not fair,
She must not fear the devil, but must fear his foul deeds:
She must not weep, she must not weep, and yet she is overcome,
When in the bottom of her heart all her heaviness rest,
She leaps, she bounds, and yet nothing holds her still,
And in her heart is all that remains;
And in her heart nothing holds her still,
Which on her back all the rest of the world holds fast,
In her heart still she doth plead, ‘O father, make me hear,
As she cries, ‘O mother, tell me, how are you,
I see that you will live; but beauteous days I must die.’
‘But wilt thou wilt not bequeath to my son aught sweet?’ quoth she.
‘”I’ll give him my horse,” quoth he; “why hast thou not?”
‘If you love me, then I’ll kiss you again;
Thine eyes are golden, and all mine are silver:
For in mine are many false eyes;
That have no face but mine own;
They that can see well, do well to me.
‘So therefore she answers, ‘I’ll kiss you again,’
‘Tis your turn, sweetie,’ and ’tis thine;
My sweet love, my love’s note is up-voted,
My love is dead; ’tis thou, my love, that I call.’
This time hath she set on a downward course,
When she thinks that his lips will taste sweet,
She frowns, and tears, and then her brow shakes;
‘If thou wouldst do me good, then bid me make some change;
For when thy heart desires me, make thy part:
He is the one I love, and I him that doth seek.
The turtle, having fled, sits still,
In pursuit of the boar, and the dire wolf,
Shaking their horns to fright the birds and wild beasts.
Thy love, though wild and unapproved,
Hath never been thy enemy to any cruel foe;
Thy love, though mild, is thine own enemy;
Thy love, though mild, is thy own enemy;
Thy love, though mild, is thy own enemy:
Thy love, though mild, is thine own enemy;
Thy love, though mild, is thine own enemy:
But thou dost make my life a curse,
That thou shalt not be a friend to me again.
For in my blood thy name was consecrate;
Thy worth doth compare with mine, and thou my friend.
‘”Therefore did I make some vow, and he a witness,
That I would prove more beloved by thy tongue,
Than by any other tongue that tongue knows.”
He replies, “How can it then be?”
“Since every tongue hath a tongue, and every tongue is a fool,
The worst of all is beauty, or least of all is fear,
For all men are fair and pretty, and every thing in them is black,
Though all their parts are in thine own image:
So is beauty fairer than those fair plants which they shade,
And all things fairer than those that are in themselves graced.
In my youth did I make such a vow,
That I would swear by him, and that he would swear
To my name, and my love unto thee,
That he would say, ‘She’s mine,’ and that’she’ he would swear.
She takes no notice that he is speaking,
Nor she that hears him at all is troubled;
The maid that her lord is with is silent,
She that hears him, hears him but faintly,
And thus she ends up complaining of his untimely stay.
‘For oft as Opportunity sleeps,
A lamb or fowl she catch, being held,
Will come and play with him, but Opportunity stays;
O pardon me, I am not fond of pity,
And I am not the one to leave the other;
My grief is that I do not find joy in her sight
, and she is all for thee,
But thou that hate’st me so, thy love to me,
To spite me so, thy love is for my love.’
Thus she clears her face with her fair arms,
Which she doth to

======== CHECKPOINT 041 OUTPUT # 002 ========

neutron-like shape, which is strangely painted as a flower, though not as such as it might appear in my hand,
Being but an abomination to my eyes.
“This foul ornament of such a beauty from thy breast,
That on my heart I cannot see it,
Hath hid it, and I dare not look again;
But if thou dost prove it true, then shalt thou restore,
For it is the blood of my love and thy love’s love,
And all thy other life is pure and simple.
‘Look what kind of life is liv’d in that which thou wast made of,
And if I were of thee, that life being liv’d,
Or life if thou art of thine, that life being dead,
Or life if thou art dead, and not life being liv’d,
then thou must in one kind of death,
Or in all together give full life to that which is dead.
‘But this, O my poor false goddess,
What is thy self so abhorred for?
Or in me is thy self so abhorred?
Or what is thy mind so abhorred for,
That no love hath but one that knows me?
How is it then with my dead body that I am buried,
And death which I did annex
To my lifeless body the thing from me which was,
That life be of thee, and thy surviving parts,
Which after death do rejoin thee.
“O, my dear boy, what a sorrow it must be!
To see a child die, that no love could picture,
O how the world would with this object kill;
O let us then weep, as we in heaven weep,
When this blot on the world our sorrow commits;
So with our grief we may be reconciled
To our grief-sworn-for sins, which are our penances,
In other words, to be reconciled to one’s sorrow.
Thy hand, O sweet creature, thou hast thy own sweet aim,
When thy hand that controls the revolving revolving wheel,
Is not in tune with thy music, but with my verse,
That is to be your guide to all things,
And then to guide all is thy sweet delight,
And to guide all all is thy joy.
‘O then my heart, which by thy side had thaw’d
Breathed forth sweet vapours from the furnace of fire,
Whereon Tarquin perceived that he was burning,
And with a swift motion threw him about,
Like to a black-fac’d creature doth he seem,
Or like a man with surly gait, if thou see him
Hiding in shadows, yet be seen he lies!
He shakes and hurls, he flies, she shrieks, he swears:
And now for thy good, for mine sake kill me fast,
And yet no fear should prevent me from slaughtering,
To be with thee when the bloody knife fastens,
And I thou shalt not betray to this cruel tyrant.
To him, in a remote mansion guarded by maidens,
She shakes and cries, and he, with a grim look,
Underfoot throws on the brook’s fire.
She takes him by the hand, kisseth him tenderly,
And, lo, the thought of that deep feeling wound
May evermore linger in the heart of my mind,
And evermore beheld my will and my love’s desire;
To whom this will bequeath to thee,
My love may in a way resemble thee in deeds,
And I the stronger could not prevent thy love’s coming.
‘This was a common thought among the Romans,
In which they reprehended not only crimes committed against their city,
but civil war and revolt against Rome.
When they had said this, their leader rose,
With loud cheers, and neighs, and claps, and neighs, and wailing crescents,
Each part of him with a constant uproar,
For fear of his modesty, or of his disgrace,
For fear of his pride, or of his fame:
Then Collatine’s chamber was sealed;
So Collatine’s Roman guest descended,
And Collatinus’ Roman guest went:
The one from Lucrece stood dumb and dumb,
The other from the Lucrece stood strong and swift.
‘O night, thou gav’st me, if I return again day:
Or tomorrow night let my poor ill-fortune grow;
And for shame let that ill fortune grow
That can by him so many afflicted sufferings!
‘”Lo, the traitor that stole my life from me,
Shall by the sword of Collatine slay me still!
Let him whose life’s ornament thou shalt cherish,
That makes a better ornament of

======== CHECKPOINT 041 OUTPUT # 003 ========

trivia of my mind, as it were false,
Where every present injury and sorrow hath end,
That every present misfortune and sorrow
Sets my heart at rest.
But here again, again she answers him,
And again answers him again,
And again answers him again,
Now she hath had an hour, and I am still waiting
To do my parts.
‘”Why did I not think of thee before?” quoth he,
I have no honour, no love, no respect,
Even of modest might, so love you, that you will live,
Which you yourselves should like, as yours own eyes do,
And this best you ever, by your own will,
Being all for you, your true self to me am
Affection, and respect, and honour.
For though thou dost make me hate you, I lov’st thee now,
And yet you were thy best, and best I to thee.
Her hair was red and all gilded,
As if from some unseen hand were it dyed.
Yet, like an antique clock, it will not let go,
She will not let it go. ‘Why dost thou not stop with my tune?
I do not love you as thou lov’st me,
If thou lov’st me, I will tune thee in my tune.
‘O love! Love, what treasure can’t I steal from thee?
And in a little covetous appetite
Whose lips are full of lies, and whose eyeballs
Appear pale and blot out the heaven that dwells therein.
‘”So be it, then, mine eye thou dost behold,
And by thy will do this, I may do this to thee;
I have this vision in me, that thou wilt have it;
I am thy slave, thy partner, my muse,
Him whereof thou art, and why not where?
Why shouldst thou not see where I do aspire,
And where am I when I think thou art my muse?
Thy voice is sweet, thy cheek rude, thy brow blunt;
O how thy heart doth compare with mine eye!
Her lips are full of wrinkles, her eyes dark,
That make them hard for me to behold.
‘Thy fault is thou that hath done this to me;
It is a curse to curse the least of thy creatures;
O curse not thy sins that in my flesh they prove!
What excuse do I have to speak of mine sins,
That I should say thou lov’st me not again?
For why me that shouldst lov’st thee in thee,
Cannot speak of thee to my self, but by thy might,
I love thee so, and will my love keep thee still.
My love was new and holy, and best I know
When thou began, and then thou art dead,
My love is new and new, and best I know.
If thou art old, if thou art old, that thou shouldst die.
“When thou shalt see the sun set, all the world awak’d,
He leaves them, wondering where he left them.
He starts and stops, and turns the dial,
Whereupon Adonis exclaims, “This man’s heaven-drenched horse!”
His silver fountains held in his huge jacks,
And for a moment did she entertain suspicion;
Her eye, on her lips, did ashy asunder,
Like fire to the violet vapour from her eyes,
So softly they doth her cry, “This man’s heaven-drenched horse.”
‘O how she herself doth pine her hair,
And yet her tears do wet his golden eyes:
That on the tip of her spear-point’d brow she drops
Shall cheers the growing prince that is his foe.
O, what a wretched dame her name was!
To know her she pricked with tears,
For that in her tears she hath gaz’d her eyes,
And doth sportly sportly neighs on her neck,
With either’s ears or lips or both’s nostrils she plays;
To show her love, she will do her part;
And that to herself she will do much harm;
But to that which she would most unreserv’d do,
Her words would make his pleasure far greater.
Thus much scorn they hold her on this subject,
And often kiss each other on the cheek;
Even so the lark, as it were driven
From the bank of the river, brake’d it;
And high in the giddy height of his rise did fall
That stern serpent whose swift tail he drew;
The gaudy Collatine, being gone,
Came down, and stood stoically by;
Then Tarquin stoops to

======== CHECKPOINT 041 OUTPUT # 004 ========

‘Dear Collatinus,
Since the time of your birth I have seen your face,
The scars, the wrinkles, and the grief I feel
As though from some kind of disease beset me with this,
My tongue and my joints ache with this.
When I was twenty-four, when Priam took me,
I think to myself ‘Had the day gone by, when thou mightst not have,
That I should have been twenty-four years old.’
And yet thou shalt not blame me for my age,
For having aged well, what shall I say
Of old age, whether it is old or young?
Or whether it is my life that brought thee to know,
Or whether it is the better reason why I have sought
To get thee to know me.
“Thy eyes have seen, and all the matter of my heart
Is to my mind their verdict, and all thy parts are hid:
My soul is deaf, my breast deaf, my liver and bone
Hate to hear, or hear no reason of it;
My flesh the stronger than steel, my soul the stronger
I hate to see myself honoured, my honour so poor,
That when I am remembered, I die, and no more.
‘”How can my heart’s pleasure be so strong as mine eyes
Make my hearing dull, my heart’s note weak, my hearing strong,
My nails strong yet not to mend, my hand my foot’s soft place,
my eyes, as they view the deep black,
To see the deep-brained mists in their mists,
Or see my true self in the eyes and false mists
Which in my true self were the same.
So is it true that thou wast forsaken of me,
Him like to know me only by my name.
Thou mightst not kill me till I had told thee so.
“What are thy vows, dear servant? let them abide in mine;
Then love’s eternal love, I’ll keep them still,
The one is sweet, the other sour;
The sour one, will be mild;
Love to me, dear friend, your reason to shun,
For being sour, you do so much for me.
For pity, I love you, but you are not fond of me.
The one, whose true self you are,
Is your true self, and that self is not my love.
‘All mine is but one, and nothing else in me.
How shall I then manage to rid myself?
Then by my self-same Collatinus
And live as thy fair self did to myself,
In thee I must live, and be remembered,
for I am thy love, and for thee I live.
‘”Sweet Lucrece,” quoth she, “if I may say so,
And tell the sad tale of my true-love;
But this is the end, if thou shouldst wish;
If then, that heaven be thy heaven,
I hate not that I live, for heaven hath no god but me:
As to that which hath made thee hell, so to say,
My words make thee hell-haunted, thy music sad,
And mine eye doth every where regard,
Held to my brain the night’s task of hearing,
Like a heavy-hanging chalice to my heart.
My heart hath writ, ‘Love was here;’
To my love, that which hath writ, is here still,
To thy love, that which hath writ, this thou dost keep.
But if thou wilt, I wilt thy loving give,
And give thee my heart with thee, and not with thee.
To kill me then, do not so,
With my death, and then kill me by that which thou wilt kill.
My love is death, and not life.
No love ever made me more dear,
And for that, I’ll kill myself with your slaughter:
And that you may still feel me still,
To whom I have but gazed upon you through your tears.
But if thou, in thy sweetest self, still look,
Then the knife shall cut the sharp point of your hate;
Love is not death, thou livest; thou liveth not death.
O, that thy love may so love live,
And be true to him as thou art,
So be it, that thou mayst say,
O, that thou mayst say,
And do believe me; and believe me still
With words, and not with deeds.”
Then said she, “Now excuse me,”
“And now,” quoth he, “if any one of you be
Nay, if ever, one of you be see
My soul, why weep?” “O

======== CHECKPOINT 041 OUTPUT # 005 ========

York that he did call,
“And that thou wilt make my acquaintance,
The better to be the worse.”
For him she said, “Now I’ll be dead, and thou my friend
The sooner I see thee.”
So he went, and there sat he,
Upon his horse, in a fair league:
“If I may for the love of thee excuse,
So shall we all be reconciled.”
She looks sadly on him, and on him in tears;
Then she shakes her head, and his eyes are dimmers,
And she in tears exclaims, “No; no; she thought I would go;
She will not look at me, I do intend not.”
‘O love, thou art of such good use!
O excuse me that I have not prophesied,
I do prophesy my death and my fame,
That all your faults shall my self abate,
And all your offences my fame to make me more;
If I be such a false god that my life is so short,
Thy self shalt not be praised, nor thou my worth,
Nor thy worth thy fame’s praise will be,
That is to me the best, which thou canst not disgrace;
But be praised, and I to thee, thou alone best.
‘”Now here I will confess, my dear Lucrece is young,
It would seem a thing of death to thee;
Now imagine the hour when a dove should dine,
Her tear-tied eyes would be blinded, her tear-distained breath,
Her breath would kill her if it hit such a spot,
That I a river might drink up from thence,
And drown the morning with my sad breath.
‘In short,’ quoth she, ‘it is no use dost thou bear me
If thou permit my woes to end,
So help me God, and give me the strength I need:
When my mistress’ eyes are as white as water,
She will kiss her, and tell her I am dead,
That I never grew, nor she canst see me again.”
And from this she adds,
Thy love, my love, shall in it live the death;
And then doth she surmise her sorrow,
To prove her right, and that doth prove so,
She will prove her right in my heart, my heart’s desire.
And this was Adonis’ vision;
To mark the change of his complexion,
A red hot spring that on the ground gush’d,
Pushing forth the water that from her cheeks
Appear’d bubbling from her cheeks and down her arms;
Which on the ground in bubbling water runs
A river running down that downward steps.
‘All bred that thou mightst drink; ‘gainst’ me, though thou art not
An age of thy youth, a beauty of thy days.
‘Then couldst thou still-spring-fed thou dost,
That thou couldst still-spring-fed not-self again.
O! if by this miracle thy love were born
an aged lady with thee,
My life would not end with thy unkindness,
Nor with thy self-love’s unkindness still:
for when thou art come back, look how coldly I march,
As from a stormy night through a barren plain,
My heart a second I did shake, and my brow
Shook again, again my brow, and again my face.
‘Therefore, in my heart I say, thou hast stolen away
From thy kind control, and have done thee a favour,
To betray a man thy right,
And make him a deceiver thy brother,
In the thought that in me thou lovest.
‘Then where didst thou get thee? I have no account of thy hours,
But I have seen thee in the midst of tears,
And seen your complexion still change with age,
When beauty is dead, and man alive,
So my mind is haunted with dreams of thee;
I wonder at that thou wast so fair
That thou hast deceived me, and now I find thee;
Then why dost thou use tricks to steal my sweet mind?
‘O, my love,’ quoth she, ‘if thou wilt use tricks to steal,
For stealing from me thou wilt steal thy life,
Or else I will kill thee with thine eyes.
O be merciful, do not be such a scythe;
But when I am slain, let not the shadow say,
‘O true friend,’ quoth she, ‘that I may not slay thee;
But if I be slain, let him give me thy rest.
‘’Then did my beloved Muse get hold of a stick,
And use it to strike

======== CHECKPOINT 042 OUTPUT # 001 ========

all from thence he takes Tarquin and makes him his slave.
Then did Tarquin, my beloved, with his spear slay me;
And I beheld Tarquin’s flaming sword,
Which, like a flaming serpent, it wield’d;
Then Tarquin’s flaming sword did slay me,
And I beheld his flaming blade being held,
And when it was ready it descended,
To the ground whereon his blood cop’d.
‘How hast thou, old man? When thou shalt be old,
Will I be king of the world, and thou be
My love, my dear friend and my foe?
If so, then thou wast mine and all my rest.
I love thee that do thy deeds wrong,
And never let my love destroy thee in such a deed.
O yes, thou art mine, my love, my love’s fee,
My love to thee is thy return, and thine return is in me.
When they have sworn to thee, and thy name seen,
They leave thee in that trustless doom,
And then return their oaths of love:
O then, why dost thou strive to rob my heart?
Who, lo mad, in thy outward youth didst steal thy sight,
And why dost thou make my heart love thee more?
O, if thou art dead, what death didst keep,
For beauty’s eye hath never missed thee still,
And beauty’s eye hath never stained my face white.
If it be dead, I feel it touch’d,
And if not, that it liv’d in a murmur.
I will not bewitch thee with thy love,
Since that my love was dead and thou art still alive,
Thou wilt be thine too, if thou shalt waken this wish,
Since thine too shalt live, I will ravish thee with thy love,
The day thou shalt wake again and lov’st me more.
‘So I, being absent, with my maid Tarquin gone,
Toucheth from her where all his grace lies,
And to my thoughts thou dost rest,
My soul is my muse and muse doth draw,
And from thence to my thoughts thou dost rest.
‘But what shall I say to him that doth slander thee?
When the time is past when I can speak,
My love, my love, my love doth speak,
As the sun to a thousand eclipses,
And thou to the heavens all eclipsed,
Thy self outruns the clock of time.
That thy face, the womb of a child,
Proud of beauty and undistinguished,
Which the world’s vulgar fancy hath crowned,
With the proud title of heaven’s most glorious,
So proud is thy beauty that I love thee nothing,
Even so thou mak’st beauty’s place, and thy part.
‘O, how canst thou then be so false?
As if my thoughts were thoughts, thy body’s shape was,
When I speak from thee, my words are words to thee,
And thy beauty thy part is thy part.”
Now Tarquin (dressed in a long-sleeved coat)
Was as if from a dream doth he ride,
With the winds that blow in the Arabian sky,
And in the alabaster hue of the sky,
But, as they did behold him, fell asleep.
“Let my dear, my sweet, thy mistress,
What love hath done to you that is lawful,
To love what is not?” quoth he, with one gentle look.
“I have sworn that you my father and I were once,
And your servant to my mistress was once,
And that for your honour was once my mistress:
And you in my absence are my fair, and thine,
If you have ten thousand lives, and thou one wilt live,
By every one you may be called ten.”
O love, as it seems to me, thy heart is thine;
But if this true, what good did it have
With any sin, not with this untrue devil?
To make his own love with his own will is so foul.
But from this false love did he make his conquest,
To make his love with my body’s pleasure,
And to make it his own in his will be:
And then would his will be the better,
Since there was no sin to him that did convert:
But what kind of sin did he have,
And when he could not convert to love,
Could never for a second convert,
To love thy body in thy will?
Who then then was his body but in love?
For thou dost in a second turn thy will,
And return again what thou wilt lend;
But wherefore

======== CHECKPOINT 042 OUTPUT # 002 ========

aer to her own sweet pleasure,
And as he stoops, so shall I stoop,
To serve his self in my absence.
This advice was espied by Tarquin,
And so my verse was likewise spelt
In Lucrece’ cheek, with lips as white as his;
For Tarquin, I love my own sweet love, and am your friend,
Who, like me, must die to live another’s name.
But I do believe in thy beauty, my love of yours,
Which shall live in posterity
Of all those my dear friends, who to you are dear:
Thy kind influence I hold shall remain,
To you, I will keep thy strength, to you nothing.
This said, she takes her coat from him,
And starts on foot; and in his arms do hurl
The red feather that she takes from him,
And fly and make their nests in white.
“Lo, dear friends, we did make thee these,” quoth she, “
When thou art dead, my spirit gives life to thee.
I love thee, but no one else respects
His aspect, his character,
And in me that likeness doth live,
Will live not to resemble him, but thou stand my match;
And this he thinks shall win the favour of age,
And of death, and of honour, and honour,
He will be buried in his fair state,
For whose sake he shall live and live,
And never be forgot by a friend.”
‘”Ay me,” quoth he, “you have a story to tell.
By nature she feeds all things unclean;
But where abundance lies, beauty iniquity reigns,
And beauty’s heir is death, or else,
The present’st disgrace, and beauty’s due;
And to this cruel death comes she so high a name,
That she herself speaks of herself only,
And never with her self to speak such name:
‘”The earth is full of worms; so, being bereft,
And in his pride is cast his spoil:
For why should his earth so low boast?
A thousand excuses deny me, a thousand excuses give me,
To leave the world behind, the one with thee.
That this Tarquin did preach in my ear,
And in my mind his vulgar tongue,
Whose simple words, like silly tricks, did him prize.
The painter in me did take his delight,
To show his true form in my black,
To show his naked aspect in my white,
So beauty in thee would be a sist’ring wonder,
And thou the fairest by thee most sought.
So shalt thy love be, and thy good name,
By my love be thine.
To this she replies, “O then thou know’st thou art gone.”
The wolf that would have slain her would have gone away,
But thou wast not with her nor thou alone.
‘”Now come in, look in my glass and tell me,
The shape of my face; I shall then have my say;
The shape is but a likeness of my heart,
No true eye can distinguish the likeness
Of your fair face, or that of another.
For each fair aspect of thee I must change,
My heart is but a semblance,
And thine image a living image liv’d.
Then why weep, O then that eye that dwells still,
Till night hast thou receiv’st the sum of my woe;
And therefore shalt thou be revenged on me:
For if thou steal thy self, thou stealing thief,
Thy self art my friend and my self thy friend’s:
Then return and I shall be revenged,
To thee alone I still must be,
If thou steal my self, thou steal thy friend’s art,
Thy self my friend, my friend’s art my friend’s waste.”
“So shalt thou be the rarities of thine days,” quoth she,
And when they have read this to-night,
They are in dread, as if from high heaven did slay them.
“And how shalt thou die?” quoth he, “If my soul can hold thee:
If I can, then I live to see thee fade;
If not, then thou wast not alive to see me die;
If thou livest, then mine soul lives to see thee fade;
If not, then mine soul dies to be wit’d with thee.”
So shall he die, and yet I live;
Yet if thou live, my self is live’st wit’d with thee.
O therefore are you with nature with this doom,
As thou in thy beauty being live’st with thee,
As thou in thy beauty being died with thee,

======== CHECKPOINT 042 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Atomic, the sun in summer doth rise,
And shines so hot that no breath can warm him there:
And to warm him therefore must we all aspire,
So bright to the sun which in summer doth shine.
‘But this I dread, this dread I must confess,
And yet cannot I prove, without thy help;
The plague of my love shall thence be hid,
And never return my affection;
And therefore, my love, the world with me,
To be forgot is my grave.”
“Ay me,” quoth she, “you will not find,
For me, I am dead, and no cause can give
Save this, I am mortal, and no cause could ever give.”
Then with this she quips:—
This verse is worth so much, that I fear’d not the deed,
Or the death of any good deed,
I mean to take away thy treasure,
And use thou my name in deeds of love,
That never shall else live, but thou my dear, my love.
‘Thus did she remove, as he did thence,
Making her way with speed, and coming again
With pace, speed, pace, pace, pace!
Her face was full of scorn, her eyes all disdain,
And each eye so full that she took
All those that in their midst she might behold.
“This is not the time, this is not the state,
This is not the time for talk, this is not the mood,
This is not the time for talk of argument,
This is not the time for talk of swearing,
this is not the time for talk of argument,
This is not the time for talk of rage,
This is not the time for talk of sore ill,
this is not the time for talk of discontent,
This is not the time for talk of grief,
This is not the time for talk of sorrow,
This is not the time for talk of envy,
This is not the time for talk of sorrow,
This is not the time for talk of shame,
This is not the time for talk of rage,
This is not the time for talk of jealousy,
this is not the time for talk of discontent,
This is not the time for talk of discontent,
this is not the time for talk of rage,
This is not the time for talk of discontent,
This is not the time for talk of rage,
This is not the time for talk of envy,
This is not the time for talk of grief,
This is not the time for talk of lust,
This is not the time for talk of discontent,
This is not the time for talk of anger,
This is not the time for talk of lust,
This is not the time for talk of rage,
This is not the time for talk of lust,
This is not the time for talk of rage,
This is not the time for talk of rage,
This is not the time for talk of jealousy,
This is not the time for talk of lust,
This is not the time for talk of lust,
This is not the time for talk of grief,
This is not the time for talk of lust,
This is not the time for talk of rage,
This is not the time for talk of jealousy,
This is not the time for talk of rage,
This is not the time for talk of lust,
This is not the time for talk of grief,
This is not the time for talk of rage,
This is not the time for talk of rage,
This is not the time for talk of lust,
This is not the time for talk of rage,
This is not the time for talk of lust,
This is not the time for talk of rage,
This is not the time for talk of lust,
This is not the time for talk of lust,
This is not the time for talk of rage,
This is not the time for talk of rage,
This is not the time for talk of love,
This is not the time for talk of grief,
This is not the time for talk of rage,
This is not the time for talk of lust,
This is not the time for talk of rage,
This is not the time for talk of lust,
This is not the time for talk of lust,
This is not the time for talk of rage,
This is not the time for talk of lust,
This is not the time for talk of rage,
This is not the time for talk of love,
This is not the time for talk of rage,
This is not the time for talk of lust,
This is not the time for talk of grief,
This is not the time for talk of rage,
This is not the time for talk of rage,

======== CHECKPOINT 042 OUTPUT # 004 ========

problematic, that hath no power to amend,
If the best is my best.
Love conquers all; and when that conquest is broken,
Lust destroys all.
For though thou dost overthrow me, yet thou art mine;
No power but mine is my best,
And therefore I do strive with thee to win thee.
The sun doth not set till after dark,
And Priam doth wake his son from the hunt.
So is she with Tarquin; and therefore Priam’s wife,
Sith he doth slay, and the red blood doth stand.
‘But now we find a strange grove, where two mothers weep;
Shamefully she runs away, wondering where she is gone;
Who in such a state of sooth,
By her rash course of ill might prove.
“Lo, Priam, you have not sworn to my love,
But since I swore you would not, I will not excuse;
And lo, you shall never be my friend again.”
Now was she afraid to kiss the ground,
And now the knife she drew was all ready,
Which she did slay, by the burning hand.
He then began to cry out, “Fie, fie, dear, I dare not touch thee;
I have sworn to love thee that thou wast in me,
Thou art my true friend, and thy lover is me.
Yet thou wast in me a woman slain,
And thou, by my murder, I have no husband left.”
‘O how she did betray thee!—
Yet again she shakes her head, and yet again
She thinks he did betray her,
She whispers to herself, that he would break her heart;
Th’ instinct will not make his will false;
Then his passion’s bond will be torn, and she will cry,
Till he will groan, and will exclaim,
that in thee is all wrong.
“My maid,” quoth she, “she hath seen her father’s face,
And she hath chide his pride, and she hath said
She’s revenged upon him for my death,
For that I have done her wrong.
‘”Why, lo, is my dear, dear friend dead?” quoth she,
And to the joy of all, she chides him for it:
But he answers her again, and thusly she replies:
“And in the face of all, I will not be gone:
Thy face’s worth more, and thy heart’s worth less,
My heart shall live in thy body, and all mine in him.”
That last sentence was thought so unbreathable,
That some lady advisedly did sit by her bed,
And lay by the fire, exclaiming in mourning;
Then did the lady who told the tale return,
And give her another name for Lucrece’ sake,
The one was the better for him, the other for her sake.
‘Yet,’ quoth Lucrece, ‘if love be dead, then thou art dead.’
And the blessed queen thus replies:—
“The sun is gone and I have no one to mourn
With flowers, nor leaves, nor straw, nor grass, nor straw,
Nor breath, nor breath, nor touch, nor touch are I bereft thee.”
“Fie, fie, dear, I dare not touch thee;
If I had,” quoth he, “I would kiss thee still.”
His eyes, like statues, had once seen thee,
But he did not delight in my sight;
And he who so pure doth delight in me,
Hath lost his sweet grace, and now his true lust
Shall blush in his blood, and blush in his cheeks.
O, when thou dost strive for pardon,
With proud brows and lofty towers,
Or crest-like visages, or towers of high height,
Or even lofty towers overshorn with deserts,
Or towering towers which exceed all bounds,
Or even the limning height of Italy,
Or even the coldest winter’s snow-white fall!
When in all these spheres thine eye doth view,
To view the beauties of this unseen world,
With thy beauty doth his eye find.
‘When thou art old, why durst thou be old?
Or what is thy love to lose?
If love be broken, how shall that be restored?
If love be renewed, how shall that be reworded?
Love is dead, but love’s living hue is still fresh.
Love is dead, but love’s living hue is still fresh,
And if my love be restored, what beauty of all that
Is not lost! beauty dead, beauty living,
Beauty alive, beauty living! beauty dead, beauty living

======== CHECKPOINT 042 OUTPUT # 005 ========

soundtrack in general, but in the face of constant danger.
This summer I have laid my soul and my part into a race,
That’s to see which I think to win, and to lose.
For this purpose, like a virtuous spirit,
I have made my will the better part,
To take physic of my sick state, my weary state,
And to thy Will be straight my due,
And to thy Will be thy honourable deed.
Yet, to-day, in thy thoughts thoughts thoughts,
O how thy thoughts doth dote on my suffering,
My woes, mine own, and their mutual cure.
When this paper doth give light to my woes,
Then will they think what I in their thoughts did say,
But when I have drawn them my pen in ink,
I’ll write a desperate tale of thy sorrows:
O, what an idle time is a dead one!
How long I live in shadow of the thing I see,
To forget the time I forgot thee, when I did write thou:
In all my living time thou dost give a heaven
To hear my grief recured, and thine, if it ever survive,
For there is no hope from thee, nor no other remedy,
But that which thou shalt cherish for the sake of love,
that thy self hath more than love can satisfy,
Thou in love with thine own worth canst not live,
For then my love is dead and my self no more,
And if I were alive then thou wouldst have mine,
For I thy love was never more true, and ever did detain.
O thou who art dead, when still live I love thee,
And yet thou wast still alive, now thou wilt be gone.
So for thy sake do I entertain this deed,
As if from my soul my thoughts could devise a cure.
For from thee this ill, and for this ill,
Hath diverted thy thoughts, as mine own from thee,
And now thou wast his own debtor to mine,
And he hath the cure to rob thee of my fame,
So I ransom thee, thou dost steal my sight.
‘O thou thief, what foul art that in thy way,
That thou steal’st from me so dear a treasure?
Or thou turn away thy keen eye, and keep thy eye wide open?
Thou hast lost all beauty, and so beauty doth live,
With beauty doth live with thee, and wit doth live with thee.
O, that thou didst steal my treasure from me,
I might say, thou lov’st to rob thy friend of it,
Thou lov’st to rob another’s treasure,
Thou lov’st to rob my dear love’s treasure,
And thou lov’st to steal my fame from this fair thief,
For the treasure that thy self hath in thy store.
Yet being levelled with praise and praise’s praise,
The laugher thyself goes, the quicker to show it;
“So long as thou livest,” quoth she, “since I last seen thee,
And all my youth long since have seen thee,
When all my fame and all my youth had flown away,
Now doth Adonis’ likeness appear.”
‘What’s this, what’s this, what’s this?’ quoth Lucrece:
“When thou livest, I will not live.”
‘Then live to be obdurate, to live to be vile,
When in thee I will live and thou live,
When in me thou art fond and cruel,
When in me thou art vile, all this I will say:
“I was thy mother; now I be thy mother’s child.
Thy youth hath given me the means to be a nun,
And as soon as thou wilt return, I will feed thee well,
And be thy husband to him with more delight.”
For this my heart’s heart hath writ down a decree,
That my parts may live as sons do now,
Thou art the fairest, even to the richest, and most rarest.
Yet my heart forbore to be deceived,
And never shall Priam wert to me blush;
The one shall in thee shine his bright light,
The other shall in thee dim obscurity shine.
Yet in both, the one sun hath show’d his power,
The other hath not shine’d his shine.”
As a lamb his tender hide lies in wait,
The other’s tender hide lies in wait before;
The other’s tender hide being grazed,
The tender hide’s tender hide grazed is slain:
Then is Priam slain and Priam bequest’d;
The other’s tender hide his wounds were never heal’d.
So shall my heart’s music play when

======== CHECKPOINT 043 OUTPUT # 001 ========

rosis, in the face of which he stood,
When by heaven’s force he should win;
Then should she smile, and, from thence, like a dying dove,
Would fly from the heavens and fall from the sky.
So that I may conclude that he was not dead,
For that he did it in my soul;
And by heaven’s force did he win it:
‘O, what a hell of witchcraft would my life
Have done to her that so vile a devil did torment.
‘But wake up, and see what I have done wrong,
But what wake-hour doth my soul wake to find;
O, what a heaven would that didst thou have,
To dwell in thy sin still doth dwell here:
Or to dwell in thy guilt still doth dwell here:
O, what a hell of witchcraft would my body be,
Had it not been for thy sin, it still doth dwell here:
But that is all that doth comment on me,
When in the thoughts, and in my soul’s view,
My thoughts, my thoughts’ contents are so small,
That I can scarcely see or hear what they mean,
I do wrong by this.
No more will I say, this is not for me,
To make you my argumentation,
Nor shall I say, this is for you to make me your verse,
I will say ‘no more’ when you want to know,
And then, to answer all, I will list all I have said.
‘I did not love thee at all, nor could I forgive thee;
I did not so much as say I would kill thee;
But now I have admitted your slander, and your fair praise,
Thy face for my own sake is burnt with your crime:
So shall I live, and still you live,
By this, and this, and this.”
His right turn was fair to her, and gentle to him;
All together stood aloof, and like two sad faces,
Their wits did captivate his eye;
His wit, his grace, his truth.
“Why didst thou leave the field?” quoth she.
“Not mine, nor mine own fault,” quoth he;
So she is my guest, my witness,
And my love’s witness to my love.
‘And for my self I’ll sing and say,
My self in thy honour needs no excuse;
To the world’s praise, it shall live but in praise;
And for that which it calls my name,
The world will see it as some ill that breeds it,
Some praise that made thee here, there, and there.
Yet ’tis thine, and I thine alone:
As thy self in me, so in thee,
And thou in thine too, thyself in me is so proud.
O how my pride in thee wilt wane,
When thou wast my self’s storehouse, thou art my storehouse,
And thy self in me doth thy store grow,
Though in me thou art thy self thy store,
And in thine I am thy self thy store,
And in thine own self my self thy store grow,
This to me thy self doth belong,
And mine is thy self’s store, thy self’s store grow,
But mine is thy store’s store’s growth, and thine self’s store grow.’
O now I see why thou dost desire so,
Thy self doth thy self remain,
Thy self dost still remain, and thy self thy store grow,
Whilst in me thou art thy self’s store, thy self still remain,
thine self doth remain, and thine self thy store grow,
Thy self dost still remain, and thine self thy store grow,
Thy self dost still remain, and thine self thy store grow,
Thy self dost remain, and thine self thy store grow,
Thy self dost remain, and thine self thy store grow,
Thy self dost remain, and thine self thy store grow,
Thy self dost remain, and thine self thy store grow,
Thy self dost remain, and thine self thy store grow,
Thy self dost remain, and thine self thy store grow,
Then thou art thy self and I my self are slain.
“That thy sweet angel might well perceive thee,
She would not but smile, but would swear her love;
Her tears, like wet leaves, would wet the roses’ leaves,
For shame’st thou not; but, worse than shame,
Thou wilt not be so good, till thou show’st me thy good.
Yet I was with her as I

======== CHECKPOINT 043 OUTPUT # 002 ========

dr is of greater quality than he was,
And every one but that which he did covet,
Were bought for his wantonness, and all for want of desire.
For why, in thee he seems so dumb,
So strangely dumb that he doth question his reason;
Like a drunken bird he doth question the right way,
O how can he then ask for his things?
He answers, ‘The painter did make me make him,
For that he may have more praise from me.
O no, you cannot tell that I did make him,
Even from his lips, that my tongue should sing.”
Now these lines have emptied themselves in her mind,
And in my thought some of my words have begun
To sound like the painter’s: ’tis true, my tongue is sweet,
And I love to hear that words do rhyme.
When I have writ these lines to you, let me know
How my body so thrives in the constant flood,
To feed my mind on music, and on flowers growing,
And on and on, till I write, the flood will stop.
‘For now I am so fed on the day that is dear,
That till tomorrow I know nothing else but day,
Or night’s decay I do know nothing else but night,
I hate to look; now I know I love nothing else than day,
And I never have felt the sting of such disgrace.
But now I fear’d, fearing that I may be slain,
To spend eternity in wondering
Who shall die, how, and by whom I die!
What shall be my mind, if I no longer know?
What shall my heart’s music be? what shall my mind’s thoughts be?
What will my eye be when I have no sight?
What shall my heart’s painting be, and where shall it be found?
O no! what shall be thy will, when no pen can write?
O no! where shall my heart’s painting be, and where shall it be found?
My will in heaven shall govern all things therein.
O no, no! where shall my heart’s painting be, and where shall it be found?
My will governs love, love governs crime.
He takes her by the hand, and she by the neck;
She runs away; with a sigh she descries:
Her heart’s charter is that she should have her revenge:
In him he gives this happy lease to every man:
He is to thee what I am to thee,
And to thee it belongs that thou enterest.
“O Time,” quoth she, “this ill-conceived night
Of lust, and murder, and incest, and thine eyes
Begins this ill with this ill: thou wilt review this
Of my time and my time’s ill: I’ll begin
The worst and the best, then thou wilt review
Of time’s worth, and of all things worth,
And then shall I make your review; for the time,
Thou art the best, and then mine is thy review,
If then time’s fair time thou shalt review me.
‘But Time’s fair Time, thou false Time, false Time,
Of my Time thou wilt review this ill.
‘So, if it be not Time’s fault, I’ll review it thee,
So my Time, when thou Time’s fair Time is Time’s crime,
To be Time’s dearer than thou thy Time’s fair,
So my Time, to be Time’s dearer than thou thy Time’s fair,
‘Time’s fair Time, thou false Time, thou false Time,
As Time’s fair Time, thou false Time, thou false Time,
As Time’s fair Time, thou false Time, thou false Time,
And so on, till thou Time have Time’s time again review’d.
So Time’s fair Time, thou false Time, thou false Time,
Time’s fair Time, thou false Time, thou false Time,
The Time that did Time’s creation destroy,
And Time that Time brought new beauty to himself,
(And as he did so he would not reprehend
The Sinon) nor Time that gave man his due
The perfection and perfection
Which together with the Time he under enforced
Made the gross of all, and by this made
His body in itself was in no respect
Fitness to live, or to die, or to live
To be buried, or to be mov’d with neighbours.
But thou Time, who, as thou Time’s guest, bear’st thee care,
So I with thee, I give thee all thy self,
And thou in me, thou all I am,
Like to a sickle with decay in thee,
O how thy Time once gave such a sickle a life!
Then for

======== CHECKPOINT 043 OUTPUT # 003 ========

ov was my love; but he that loves me is mine.
For him there was no love, no wit, no skill,
For him my passion was music, my verse his
As in the sea of his motley’d love;
Love was his sport, and he his sport’s sport.
But in his pride of thievish pride,
Against love’s growing pride and my growing pride’s growth,
It did seem to me that every limb was shaking;
So with his proud and proud arms round about him
Whose proud arms he wore on his back,
What proud of a life he had in store,
How did he feel for his life being wasted,
how did he feel when he saw his dear friend gone,
And saw their graveside, each grave being
Till every breath draweth fresh life from them.
‘O father,’ quoth she, ‘I see that the earth doth but feed
Upon the living, when all is dead, thou art dead.’
That she says these words, the thought doth her heart leap;
Her tears drop as they do as rain on wet grass;
The clouds which her tears cover do cover the place,
Rain on her silken tears and on her cheeks;
Her nails do twine to form a knot,
When in her joints a thousand small pouches begin.
‘O,’ quoth she, ‘how canst thou then break me from thy bed?
O be not so kind, that my soul may break from thee;
For if I love thee, thou hast sworn my name.
My tongue is a tongue of thine, my heart a heart
of thine, thy heart a heart: but now,
What will it be? I mean to speak; but as a knife,
Sharpened with a sharpensmanship well known;
My heart my heart’s base and strongest part,
My heart’s strongest part, my heart my heart proud;
My heart my heart proud and true, my heart fair,
The heart that did to my heart give shape,
The heart that makes my heart to thine, my heart strong:
That heart my heart is to mine honour built
Upon the mountain tops that on thy head lie hid.
“For I love thee, and thou hast rejected me,
In thy love I am at a loss, if not in feeling;
But now, to make my situation clearer,
Thy loving heart my heart should make my heart more clear;
If thou couldst do this, I would lend thee so:
O be of help, if thou couldst lend me such a favour!
Thy gentle love, give me this favour to lend thee,
My body that gives you beauty is weak,
Thy body that gives you strength is strong,
And if thou couldst lend me strength, why not of strength?
When beauty surfeits in strengthless things,
so my heart my poor heart is like weak earth,
For my heart in thee is strong, strong, and strong:
I have sworn all that is true in thee.
That thou from me art from far off,
And from thine thou hast much in store,
For I love thee for this, and this is thine:
Thus is my mind lost, my mind made strong;
And my thoughts so full that their contents are lost,
That my thoughts so full of lies
Make me forget, my mind so full of lies,
Mine thoughts and my love seem so full of hate:
What can it be that I do wrong to thee,
O that false thief that steals thy treasure,
And steals thy soul’s life from me,
When thou in law dost steal thine own life,
My love, my love’s true love, thy true love doth steal thee?
Yet thou art so fair, and so true,
That I in thee am as fair as thy fair:
Thy beauty and my love’s fair is not as fair
As thine, my love’s fair is not as fair as thy fair,
So is thy beauty, and mine is fair as mine.
‘My heart is strong, my heart weak, my heart strong,
And my heart weak, and my heart strong,
When I feel the earth shake, or the earth tremble,
The earth obeys, and quake with every part;
When I feel the dove leap, or the dove fly,
Or the dove fly, or dove fly,
My heart is strong, my heart weak, and my heart strong,
When I feel the dove leap, or the dove fly,
The earth obeys, and quake with every part;
When I feel the dove fly, or the dove fly,
The earth obey, and quake with every part;
When I feel the dove fly, or the dove

======== CHECKPOINT 043 OUTPUT # 004 ========

And now I wake again, to hear the reason of her crime;
Her tears are red and new-dropping,
For now she thinks I am dead, and I am not.
And yet do I tremble at your picture,
Though I am mortal, yet thou wilt question me;
Yet when thou dost answer me, I know it is thee:
For when I ask thee, do I not break my oath,
When I ask thee to honour me, do I swear it is thee?
Or when I ask thee to shun me so, do I swear it is thee?
But this oath hath made me a god unto thee,
The more for thy sake it hath kept mine eye
from the deep ocean where he lie slain,
In which is buried the beauty of youth.
Now this vile hour shall the sun, who doth it delight,
Save where it doth belong? ‘And now his eye hath put on the light,
He that shadows the day, makes them rain more;
But he that shineeth on the sun doth not seem
Urgeth with wett, and staineth with grisly:
For why dost thou blot the fair queen of thine eyes,
When thou didst make them wet, how didst thou bring
The tears of many a pure-beholding mother?
Thou mak’st me, who ever doth strive,
To weep in triumph, and wail ’tis thy right.
“O comfort,” quoth she, “my wound is pretty sore,
But the priest should take it from me,
And that I in him should bleed;
And if he did, it was in the name of his virtue,
To blot my bleeding brow with blood that shows thee here.
Thy love didst give thee my life, thy life’s life,
And every drop of blood still remains in me.
So, madam, would I then take away thy breath,
If thou with this wouldst take away thy breath.
‘Then I am so overcome with grief,
That mine eyes, like mad dogs, are mute;
My thoughts, like tuned-up churlish birds, fly in confusion
And sing as fast as they learn the day’s weather,
For hours in my brain I rehearse
My thought, for hours in my brain I rehearse
O’er whom I am, and therefore I rehearse thee,
The thing I am, thou to whom I pray.
‘O yes, my love, as thou wilt see,
All love is love, despite thy deeds doth it extend,
And thus to gain a thing which is not granted:
This makes my heart tremble with joy, and cold delight,
Dumbly she takes the pillow from him,
And bids him do it again, for her sake:
She kneels, and cries aloud, “Lo, my love, I pray that thou mayst find me,
Or if thou shalt not find me, kill me.”
This plea she keeps on sighing till she hears the latch,
Where it lours and trembles for the first time;
Whose cry it shall echo for ever, the stronger
For it shall say in all the tongues of all the land:
He hears her, and her ears will not obey.
‘For who knows that heaven sent his servant
To set forth the morning’s day to tempt
The wicked to fall asleep at night,
Who, like mad dogs, with trembling mouths obey;
Thy servant shall not be mute, the day will not end,
Her voice shall remain firm, her eyes shall not despair:
And for that fear I have no rest,
But sleep and rest are so blessed,
To-day thou hast sleep’d with more rest,
Thou hap’st a sleep, thy sleep’s wake’s wake’s wake.
‘Thus say they, ‘Thy eyes, the dial of time,
Where all time doth tell the day’s past,
If thy heart would let go, what rest there,
In eternity doth thy time live.
Thus say they, the dead are buried,
And all their beauty be they blest,
And all this beauty be they dull,
From what earth’s breath breatheth, can thy breath depart?
So are they slaves to death, not to life.
‘But let us be merciful to thine enemies,
And let those that hate us be merciful unto thee;
For that I in thee art done wrong,
O, why weep when thou in me dost die?
Let us bow high, and be kind to those that hate thee;
Those that love us, that love thee,
For that we

======== CHECKPOINT 043 OUTPUT # 005 ========

olitics on earth,
That he should live, not die.
If my heart be chang’d from base to base,
As if from earth or water, so shall his moan
Be short; if from heaven or hell’s air,
My heart be chang’d from base to base,
My heart be chang’d from base to base, my heart be chang’d from base to base.
This said, the painter shifts his eye to the stage,
For now he surfeits, as if he saw it he did.
For no sooner had I begun to wonder at her beauty,
Than now she hath begun to moan and groan.
O let not my love’s woes be confined,
My sorrows be confined in thy sweetest bosom’s head:
Look to the stars, that through my fingers
Shape the sun to your map of his course,
And thou through thy stars thy map doth grow!
Look to the sea, the sky, the east, the west,
And all these with thy stars in my power make me woe.
Therefore is my love made more sad by thy sight,
In my love’s view more dreadful doth my sorrow grow,
That thou, my love, this is the first death to me!
Yet by thy love’s side the world turns to shame,
And by thy love’s side the world to grief’s cruel light.
Therefore shall I die, for this cause thou art buried,
In thy love’s sight, and in my love’s hate’s sight.
And then as the clouds turn their brightness
Against the west, so the sun in his east doth shine.
But look where the heaven that loves most is done,
In that sweet jewel that in thee weeps.
The sun that doth set over the world’s heart doth smile,
And to this smiling jewel shines the hot-burning light:
That the eyes that watch in the face of the sun do burn,
That through the smoke of this burning fire doth appear,
Some proud monument to thy sweet love,
Some idolatry to his false shame.
The poet quoth: ‘When thou shalt open the book that I writ,
And I shall sing to thee as many words that thou shalt find,
Whose sweet words thy sweet words lov’st, ere thy body die.’
Then with her soft hand he softly starts,
And, as if from some invisible power,
To kiss the earth, the womb being open,
Comes the beauty that thou lov’st, despite of death:
She that hath lost is new-applied.
‘”My mistress,” she says, “sweet lord, please excuse me,
My dear mistress, what’s wrong?—What’s wrong?—’Come quickly, quick boy, let me go;
Let me go; where is my mistress?—”Poor boy,” quoth she, “do not run away,
I have no reason to fear you now.”
And being come, he throws his foot upon her thigh,
And kneels at her, with all her might,
His thick black cloak that hides his naked face.
“And that,” quoth he, “on that swift knife point
The thorn that cannot be licked by a lily,
Or honey, or bud, or flower, to prick the prick
Of a grape, or any of them, shall he point,
Thy beauty and beauty’s strength shall I prove,
Thy sweetness, beauty’s virtue, thy worth shall I prove;
Thy beauty, beauty, beauty shall live in thee alone;
Thy sweetness shall survive in other’s defects,
Thy sweetness will survive in thy beauty, thy beauty shall be die;
Thy beauty, beauty shall live in my youth, thy beauty shall be live:
Thy beauty shall live in thy beauty’s youth, thy beauty shall live in me alone,
Thy beauty shall live in the beauty of years past,
Thy beauty, thy beauty shall live in my youth, thy beauty shall be dead.
‘My mistress,” quoth she, “this stopp’d pilgrimage
Of this distance, and this distance, and this distance,
will not be interrupted till I find a friend,
That shall be my kinsman, my kinsman’s widow:
And thou on the cross, that cross may my name find,
If thou wilt take my life again, let me swear
That I love thee more than ever,
For I have not lived to see another,
To see thee again, I have not lived to see thee,
In one, or all, thy fair creation,
When thou on this earth shall stain with thy death.
‘My mistress,’ quoth she, ‘this stopp’d pilgrimage
Of this distance, and this distance,
Will not be interrupted

======== CHECKPOINT 044 OUTPUT # 001 ========

ounding on her neck his garment,
And to his waist her mantle,
To be fastened in his thigh,
For in her bosom’s line he may catch his sight.
Yet thou wilt not in this false-speaking tongue,
I hold thy guilt in thy honour’s breach,
For slander hath thy guilt in my breach.
thou mak’st those lips to hold their dear oaths,
And thou wip’d tears from their pure cheeks when thou make’st,
That in his fair cheeks did thy fair shine appear,
That from their pure cheeks in thee threw:
What dost thou base on me now, wilt thou excuse?
O yes, let my love make excuse of thee:
And yet thou thy pure angel in thy fair face,
Whose picture art in my blood thy glory,
That in his fair face in thy fair show doth live,
And in his fair face in thy fair show doth live,
Both of them in this fair face thy glory live.
Thou art so fair, sweet, and true,
That not one tear in my life from mine eye
Shows mine honour, mine self, mine enemies:
For all mine honour and my self honour die
Where none lives, none is buried.
When thou art all-conquering, all-conquering,
When all is done, and no one breathes,
And no one hears, no one doth cry,
For all this was done but to make one Collatine,
For love, and love dies, and love is slain.”
He clears his eyes, he shakes his head, and shepherds him,
They look as he did unto the night,
When he was in the clouds gazing,
And forth from the clouds he fell,
And fell a cloud, and there he was slain.
The guilty man takes pity on the guilty,
And kills himself when he is dead.’
‘Fie,’ quoth she, ‘fie, dear Lucrece,
What else could my heart say but mine?
Thou couldst not do but weep for me when I have done,
And die before I have done.
‘Woe,’ quoth he, ‘once more I hear the wailing bell,
And then I laugh and cry aloud,
As if they would hear the wailing of the dead,
But never hear them, nor touch the dead.
‘Fie,’ quoth she, ‘once more I hear the wailing bell,
And then I laugh and cry aloud,
As if they would hear the wailing of the dead.
‘O, what a wretched spectacle it were!
‘But from the bloodless heaven, O let it not shame!
I have never been so bold, nor yet so bold
As men that in their prime did curb;
To their looks and their manners have kept.
‘The lily he took, and he the mare;
The plaits of their white and tender buds lay,
And in their plaits did cover the rest
Of their motley array, in folds their lengths.
But in that congested maze of their sweet buds,
Which by that heavy revolving wheel
Contains still the sound of their cries,
Whose sad sighs are heard far off, and far on.
‘O, how strange it were then!—
Hearing the gentle sound that from a tree boughs,
Shows her budding well, in spite of rain,
She blushes, and he at last doth moan;
she cries, and he shakes her;
he (though he be mute) shall not steal thy heart.
‘O, let my tears sink where they belong;
As bloodless mists, whose silken folds cover them,
May never dry again the silver down they hold,
In marble and in precious gems,
That hath the power to stain the shame of my deed,
O, let the blood that upon my hand contains stay,
Then shall not thy guilt bring me to trial,
But thou my kinsman’s blood, that upon my soul stay,
That thou on my soul mayst bear all thy ill.
My spirit, my body, my life shall live in thee,
Thy honour shall not shame me, nor mine honour blame,
Thy honour’s honour be thou that I labour to curb.
But if thy honour be the loss of thy life,
Thy life in thee is thy life in honour,
thine in me thy honour is thine.
‘But why hast thou forsook me when thou art come?
My life in thee, mine honour in thee,
Thy honour in thee in thine honour,
Thy honour in thee I have no grievance,
Thy honour in me no grievance

======== CHECKPOINT 044 OUTPUT # 002 ========

swingling on his trembling head;
‘Look where his lily heads lie on thy chin!
What hollows, like ruined tombs, lies their decay
Whereon he must purge his foul spoil;
Away he bids them pine and weep,
Soothing the fire with burning hairs,
And melting the silver with melting stains;
Yet this fire, this fire neither melts nor lies;
They, therefore, abide in mutual suspicion
Which makes them spies of Lucrece’ sad day,
And therefore love them that know so well;
Which spies their tears, and so their woe is drown’d.
‘But woe is not death that keeps me here,
But woe that keeps me in this chamber wherein thou dost stay:
If it do stay, then kill me first.
Then woe is not death that keeps me here,
But woe that keeps me here in this chamber wherein thou dost stay:
if it stay, then kill me first.
‘”For behold the dove, upon the direst shore
A vulture beak’d in its web,
Banning her with clammy paws and bloodless eyes.
“What, then, are these fancies so frightfully
Of painted faces, or of bloodless eyes,
That they seem to deceive, or at least fright their eyes?
For thou art the author of them,
Of their deeds, and they the authors grant,
By their merit and virtue.
If thou shouldst excuse them, let them know
That they steal thy silver and their gold;
When thou shalt steal thy life, thou art all in favour.
‘What, then, are these fancies so frightfully
That they appear so tame, and then dare not say so?
Then be thy self a goddess of woe,
And of woe a false goddess consecrate:
She, in that fair temple where thou dost lie,
Saw a god in woe, so grieved she be,
And for his good so did she kill him.
‘”Now I have said enough, and yet thou speak’st
More than I ever could say: ‘Kill me first,’
Kill me first, I will slay thee again.
But then his hand began to shake with dreadful speed,
And when it was put to his lips the strong hand
Shook the latch on the door, and the latch fell.
For lo, all in haste he went by,
And on that account he did put his hand
In the huddle of his horse, and began to play;
Her voice so strong, she doth make it proud;
Her brows, their tops with brows rose,
Look’d upon stars that defy our sight,
Nor eye that through the misty heaven hideeth,
Nor eye that with golden-vein’d brow
Hath shine such a shining hue did shine,
As that thou dost behold thy neighbour’s strife.
‘O Night, why art not my love night-star
Herald-gazers in full flight, and mine eye
Hath no cause to turn aside,
Himself forsook, mine eye to make the night;
For in him are sights that shine like the sun:
Look, I hate not love, but my heart loves;
It doth every night dote on my face that looks so:
That for his eyes’ sight there appears a deep fear,
For to see his face with him I must make some blushing.
‘O, what a hell of witchcraft lies
In my self-love’s eyes so much misery hide’d!
What’s so wrong with seeing things as they are?
O never sin, do not view sorrow in this,
For where sorrow dwells, love is wont to show it.
This verse is a work of true skill,
Thoughts of love are often misapplied;
They seem like illumin’d incense in clouds,
Which obscurely blot out ill effects with their light,
Which brightens with the deep cold of night:
When beauty in beauty’s subtle folds lies hid,
No foul act can hide it, nor no stain
Nor blot the breach with mud of age.
If a woman have committed an incest,
Or husband wed, or father died,
Her death cannot be supposed accidental:
And why should that case require
The death-disease of many a beloved one?
Or were it some accident that thou art here set,
That thou hast this craft to do thy part?
‘”And now she is to me reinitiated,
To take his lips where thou wilt, and kiss them on the lips;
And when in their turn they have kiss’d,
Their wills to kiss will lend them force,
And their wills

======== CHECKPOINT 044 OUTPUT # 003 ========

reason to kill him.
“O, quoth he, how canst thou so do?
O, quoth she, I hate not death,
And yet there remains no pleasure to me;
Yet by thy unkindness didst I give life,
As if my life had been thy gift,
My gift should have brought thee eternal life;
And by that gift I should be the son again,
And he be the father of thee, and thou shalt live
The day, the night. O then do not fear, love’s light
Hath the light to enlighten me,
For all mine eyes are dumb, dark, and senseless.
‘Now behold the froward wretch that weeps,
Swelling all his parts to the ground,
Like swine in the gouty ocean, wondering where he goes,
Whilst his proud head doth swim, the proud rider,
Whereat in the dark harbour cries: ‘Hast thou brought me foul night!
But wherefore hast thou sought to curb my torment?
A thousand faults in one? one in three?
That I must confess, I did wrong him all,
And in his thoughts did make me re-creep,
As oft as twenty times I was deceived,
So oft I am thrice as guilty as him;
And for my sins thou my love bestow’st me all.”
‘”For pity,” quoth she, “I have often felt thy pity,
And never in my life had I seen such spite,
As in that I did perceive thy pity.
Yet why should I not know thy love in my deeds,
That I shall view their affections in me?
O, that thou mayst with greater beauty behold,
The tears that his cheek shed, the tears that his cheek gave:
But these mine own tears alone are my glory,
But their tears alone are thy life in me.
O how many faults did my love have,
That were not my own, but were in thy self outstripped,
And still in me were thy self still alive,
Though in me still were thou still dead,
For that in me thou shouldst live and in me still remain.
“That thought,” quoth she, “can put all my ill effects into thought,
When in thought’s picture my love may be saved,
When in thought’s picture my love may myself be harmed.”
She takes, and doth in quick succession place
Her picture, as the ocean doth take;
She begins to talk, and then stops.
“Look what an hour it is!” quoth she;
And, in the moment, as if from some power,
Or some heavy hand, plucks or shakes with swift motion,
From the deep-drenched earth’s bosom up high up,
Or from some invisible portal takes,
Whose presence so great a fear doth confound,
That if he touch’st, she on him revives:
Thou art the sun, and rain doth rain on thee.
‘But how am I then that I can live and die,
By the fault of age, or fortune’s fault or wantonness?
O yes, I am sure that thou hast both,
Though mine is death, and mine is life’s pleasure:
And yet is life but death’s wound, and death’s pleasure:
So is my honour and mine neither.
‘Then have I sworn that thou art my foreboding,
And that I swear I am dead, and that thou shalt find,
Thou must suffer my woes till thou canst die,
And then be contented thou wilt be free,
And never be blamed that I die by thine own fault.
‘O, how will it be? thou art old, and I am young,
and in spite of thee my strength’s end thou hast
To put my despair to rest, my woe is never spent.
Look how I feel when I think on thee,
And how thy face is stained with the blood,
Thy soft bosom’s soft womb doth bleed,
thy fair skin doth dry, thy brow black,
And my joints chafe as the hot coals of fire cooleth:
And why should I love thee less,
if love be such a mild offence to me,
Thy cold hands upon my face, thy fair cheeks do mock?
Myself upon the earth being reviv’d,
My self a celestial temple, still I swear,
Thy self to celestial worship.
‘”Thus far,” quoth he, “myself from thee was seen
A fair-sprung-up hand, that hath power to kiss,
To touch that fair cheek of yours still blossoms:
And now all

======== CHECKPOINT 044 OUTPUT # 004 ========

debugging a world in decay.
But now she says,
As often as she hears the wind,
Or the sun’s beams roll to and fro,
She cannot control them, and now they seem sore afraid;
Or worse she fears them more than others,
Though the sun themselves do annoy her most:
They that fear her most, she herself alone fears;
Her tongue that tells the story of night still speaks;
And oft she utters this dreadful tale,
Which shall be aptly translated
To posterity: and for that reason,
The world will sing it well.
“Fie, fie, fie, fie!” quoth she;
Or rather she echoes her lamenting tale,
Or she utters the first word she hears,
Or else she sings them in tongues far more clear.
‘Why, O my poor flower, why do you waste
My life with wasting hours of idle time,
And wear away your leisure with idle hours of woe?
Who is it that so many such wretched hours behold,
As if a dream had it not been dyed.
‘O no! Too much of this,’ quoth she,
‘in one fell blow I might have slain.
All that live that do, though dead, live again,
My life and all my life’s effect be forgot,
In the living death of your living breath,
The living soul is buried in thee,
And live thou to be buried, for in me,
I say to thee ‘This verse should have thy glory,
When thou in heaven sendest thine son,
To preach the truth to the world and to all men.
‘But some time in the night we see the fair
And bright hours red, and the hot and cold days
Of the summer and winter, which now are out.
O, what a lovely sight this sea-green day!
And fresh beauty fresh, in such fresh matter!
Which in fresh crystals still doth copiously copiously cop
Each successive hue, every hill, and hill’s bud;
And each his or her shade, each his bud encloses:
For each his shade he appears white,
And each his bud his mulberry sum make:
But when each his shade was double,
Each rose his bough make, each bud his double:
Then let each thy might, in thine own part,
Show thy might to all other fell fell stores.
And being double entombed in thine,
Thou (red) have lost thy wits, thou art doubled.
For lo, in thy heart’s womb all ill,
The thought that my life might by my will be kept,
Shall from the cold, and from my cold body hold
The spoil of thy youth and thine age,
And yet shall live to tell the sad tale
Of that black night in thy youth and thine age.
‘Look here how the morning sun set upon the ground,
As from a steep-up hill-top his golden head stood,
O thou, the self-governing Roman
Whose place is my leisure to lay thy head,
O thou, the eternal right of mine eyes,
If I die in thee, and thou still reign,
Or in their infamy, do me good,
By making them swear against thy coming.
Thy sweet semblance, even as thy glass,
By thy sweet beauty being defaced with thine eye,
Thy self still being in motion,
Thy self still in motion still remains,
The self still in motion still remains, the one still remains,
The other still remains the other still remains,
The one still remains, and the other remains again.
O thou art not enough, though all are wanting:
To live in love, yet love still needs thee.
My love is not enough; if I die,
Mine love is enough to live in death and in thee,
In eternal damnation and in hell.
O no, that’s too true; else thou must believe it,
Or else I must lie and trust my love.
Then, angry with the night-owl’s bloody slaughter,
She struggles for breath, and then she struggles for breath again;
Then, as if by some foul abuse, she is dumb,
She quits the fight and stands still, and then,
As in an act of lust, quoth she,
Her husband doth kill her.
The sad thing is, her husband’s eye (yellow as night’s blood)
Hath drawn up a hideous grave, whereon she lies;
And she with him holds up her eyes, and frowns;
She in the grief for him sets down her grief’s light,
And turns to look, whereupon she doth smile;
Her sorrow then on her

======== CHECKPOINT 044 OUTPUT # 005 ========

andr are but one and the same;
They are one, each of them two,
And therefore in me is their one origin;
For to me is their true sight,
To me their false colour is added;
And, having so their true shape annexed,
From me their foul faults are purblind,
And all those external defects compounded
Which jointly by their sin together
Save in me their true and only defect,
From me their gross sin, compounded of all their defects,
All combined make my heart groan and drench my mind,
For if this miracle were in vain,
The world would bear witness to it:
In vain I tell my love that I have been away
And now, for thy sake, to show thee how much more I treasure.
But I do tell thee so, and for that purpose
My heart shall plead guilty, and all mine eyes shall cry;
For that thy heart’s stain was thy good pleasure,
And me the worse of all thy wrongs is done.
So shall I say ‘I love you, and you are no longer
That I love you but to torture thee with ill,
And then I will kill thee with your blood,
But that thou shalt still be free of me,
When I have rid’d thee of all my love and hate,
And done my lover away with my death,
And given thee my unmeasured treasure,
For by this me will every hour count rise,
When every hour with his hand till home shall count down,
For each minute spent in this false enterprise,
With every minute wasted in false praise,
Suff’ring with his mistress’ eyes, wrack’d with all the rest,
For every tear that seems at once discharged
Grossly sums up the disputation:
The man that sleeps no more shall wake tomorrow.
When I have tired thee in vain,
You, all alone, have I invoked thee,
And to thy tender assistance I’ll lend
The strength to shake thee out of my helpless bed,
That in thy gentle influence I may confound
Thy malcontent, the child, and the roe,
In love, the present, and the past,
So shalt thou be my slave, and my cause the light
Of your sweet verse shall enlighten thy days,
And you your sweet verse shall make the day more bright.
For to thee I say this my love, that thy beauty’s light
In all thy beauty is to me thy shame,
And to thy reproach to blame me shall grow.
But if thou wilt live and be free, live or die,
Then love dies, and love is reproach;
And death is reproach to thee, and me.
‘I love you dearly, I’ll take care of thee
With all my might, but the world’s cruel hand;
The world’s fair hand that controls my will,
And keeps her own will to cruel effect;
She controls his will by a deadly will,
That he in her will in his will hold will hold.
That it might call him to his will’s closure,
That from thence, by her will it might call,
A herald to her will’s closure and feed
the wind that will blow it away.
And as they prepare to close,
Against a fearful sound the gaudy wind
Of this fearful hour she fears them so,
She blasts them out with deadly intent:
He in turn cheers her up with his strong breath,
Like the wind that winds his boundless ocean;
He cheers her up with his strong breath,
Like the wind that winds his boundless ocean;
He cheers her up with his strong breath,
Like the wind that winds his boundless ocean;
And all these windy cheers doth fight their way,
And they with a cloud of cloud doth hang their face.
‘Then tell me, how do you think my name was,
And in that you, mine own self,
Shall beauty be your guide, and that your glory shine?
That the world would bear witness of your beauty,
To show the world how your beauty blemish’d,
Or in your own image, you to disgrace your glory.
“O, that your sweet beauty may live,
By that which you in it impart,
To every one that walks by you.
My love you do make my grief subdue,
In every stain you stain’st.
‘O, that your mild modesty may well bear,
My grace may well teach the world that false modesty doth lie,
And to teach you how the world’s fair praise lies,
To use my grace to your advantage,
To use my grace to your advantage in other things,
To use my grace to your advantage in other things,
That by my grace

======== CHECKPOINT 045 OUTPUT # 001 ========

Egyptians will weep for thee,
For mine own sake they will not weep for thee.
‘This night he opens the locked gate,
That unseen he himself must behold.
His eyes are wrapp’d in amber,
And every light impression therein lies;
Their mutual respect is blotted out,
And they kiss each other’s wounds asunder.
‘”Yet being thus confounded, yet shall he not speak,”
“But being thus confounded,” quoth she, “still shalt thou say.”
‘”Fair boy, thou art so strongly enforc’d,
That it shall not live in thy soft hand;
Then thy beauty may live in thine too,
Even in thine own kindling, though in thine own kindling die.”
‘Yet be it lawful for a man to ravish
Nature’s precious flower, or any other precious herb,
For thy life, thy life being short,
Or life being long, thy beauty vanishing,
Thy sweet beauty doth live in thine,
Thing on beauty’s dissolution, by thy death being near.
The sun that set his sun upon the clouds,
In his golden chain-mail did hang his beak,
Or his limping horse stand on end,
Whose crooked paws their crooked gait did abuse;
Yet in that chain-mail did with trembling stand
The sun that set his sun upon the clouds,
In that chain-mail did burn the sweet semblance of beauty,
And left the cold shadow, that by heaven liv’d.
And when Tarquin saw the fear in his face,
Till with a sudden chill he perceived it was ghastly,
And with a heavy cry he fled, and did ne’er bail.
Thus, when the lord of the fair queen,
Beauteous Collatine, with swelling rage,
A thousand tears flowed down his cheeks, that he durst not weep;
For he had said, ‘O, that poor tongue that tells the tale,
Tears well that bleed when blood rushes.’
O comfort me then, my heart hath power to curb;
To kiss her heart, and then, my heart’s desire,
Shall strike her down, and be kill’d in seconds.
Such prayers have she that are unalloyed,
As if from their holy writ a mourner come
May lend them eternal comfort; for lo, the writ affords,
Their saintly lords love their lords dearly,
That is to say, so their saintly lords be.
“O love, what a joy it was then!
To have thy self in that which is thy self kept
When I in love possess a piece of silver,
Thine self thou dost hoard in thine own bosom,
For my self thou dost steal in thine own bosom,
And mine in thee thou dost steal in thy self dost steal.
“So therefore Tarquin, in his quest of will,
Lends my tongue his praise to bear his boast;
And in their praise obeys the same oath,
That to this end his praise should appear,
In his desire to have me his seal.
This is what he says in defence of my life;
And that I will use in my argument good;
Thou mayst in some say live, and not in me.
“Yet here she meets a sweet, young, and kindling,
With white and red roses, all embracing one,
And pale, but not so white, as those reds now are.
For heaven’s praise is that which it doth dally,
And that which it doth dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally dally

======== CHECKPOINT 045 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Parameters, to the Roman and the Greeks he beheld,
Thou made them conquerors, and they victors.
Then do I guess what makes them fight,
And win them not, but what is thine,
At least what thine is, and what it is for.
And that thine, I know not what thine,
But in the thought of thy being slain,
Thine in me is lost, thou in me life be,
And thou in me decay be,
For that which thou hast made me forlorn,
In the decay thou in’st thy worth life made.
Yet that thou mayst live for my sake still,
My dear love’s love will live for me alone,
And thy dear love’s love alone my love shall survive,
For all that thou art buried, be of such good report,
That in that report the fool shall think thee none,
Even though I have seen thee twice, nor know thee,
And then thou in no wise am I my love’s friend,
But thou, poor fool, art thy friend and I thy friend,
And I shall hate thee once more, and thou in all my esteem,
But when the world’s eyes with true eyes do behold
His true form, his height, his beauty, his heaviness,
The earth shall tremble, as heaven enforc’d;
And his image shall in an hour repeat,
A thousand false hours, and thou in them shall pass,
That the world may believe thee, and think I thou art dead.
What dost thou mean when thou say’st thou art not dead?
For what purpose live to live and die to know?
Who in this life but desires thou art now,
When life and death once doth alter,
And each man to himself in this life doth change,
In thy affections and deeds still altered.
‘O, let me not so say, Opportunity
For shame did his eye spy his heart,
And there did he betray his heart to show it;
That in his true character was so much dismay
In the thought of Collatine’s death,
That Collatinus had been slain.
O, that her beauty might not in his took,
Or so her name should in it appear,
She might say that he was fair and kind,
Or that he was not, she might say he was;
But as Opportunity did steal his sweet jewel and use,
So had Collatinus and his fair queen gone.
Let it then be said, Opportunity
Came along and woo’d Opportunity to her chamber,
And there they sat and began to chat;
One by one she gave the other a kiss;
Then Opportunity took the blame, the poor bird being gone,
The blame on his mistress being gone,
She takes that blame for his assailing,
For Collatinus being gone, and Collatinus not him.
‘My lords,’ quoth she, ‘if thou find me, do not despair,
When I have found thee, and thou hast the strength to kill me,
Let not the prophetic hour conclude;
The time is late, and thou wast never found.
Look on that watchword thou keep from my heart,
And think my heart was no longer tuned
When it should now be tuned to make thee hate me.
Then fear of Collatinus, for fear of that watchword,
Lest Collatinus should ever be king;
Or like a bad-tempered dog he would bark;
And often would he utter a groan,
That she, all mute, would yet not hear her reason.
So often have they cried, ‘O, let us weep, O let us be merry,’
And then in her arms do we incline
To thoughts that must be unseen, but unseen must be.
The morning light, the wind that bloweth on it,
will do thee good indeed, if I may believe,
If thou wilt lie beside my bed, where thou shalt lie.
‘”Then where are my friends now, and where ever they may live,
That mine eyes may read what ill they see,
And all my heart-worshipping to-day,
I besiege them with all my might.
But what of my love, that thou art my self,
Mine eyes, though their spheres open,
Thing is but as yet unknown, so thy sight.
“Thy self thou hast made a living by thy own hand,
And by that labour I have made another,
Mine eyes, though their spheres open, still thy sight
Is yet living, and that more I found,
Mine eyes, though their spheres open still thy sight,
Mine eyes, though their spheres open still thy sight,
Mine eyes, though

======== CHECKPOINT 045 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Aside more than they did hope, yet did see
The signs of foul fiend in his smother’d state.
‘The poor lark hath set forth an after-example,
To show his vengeful disposition;
When he hath done, the poor boy will boast,
And, lo, by his false painting, his act is seen
For shame, and offence in his deed.
When thou wilt, my love will wail thee:
Yet being high on such a woe,
I will not be idle, but strive
To make my love more famous in thine age.
When the time comes, do I think to be gone
Being in a manganz of desires,
To chase after his pride in posterity?
Or do I think to be old and weak,
And die sometime with the world’s greatest lust?
To think on time, and see time decreed,
As to date a modern date of love.
“This said, the elder man, that did her accuse,
Speak, ‘This woman’s servant, this young man’s wife;
This, O false lord, this disgrace of his time,
Make this woman false against my self;
By that word may I say, I never saw thee;
Look what is in the eyes of men’s eyes,
Thy beauty deceives, thy sweet self doth betray.
The golden locks that to thy golden key
Whose function it doth hold in thy city,
Thy golden dial doth entertain thy ear:
And every one that touches it doth sing,
The praises of thine eyes doth so rejoice.
‘How many have been gone ill that night,
That they have not haunted thee with song;
How many have felt the terror of death’s sharp sting,
How many have died for my sake, my dear love’s sake,
And yet no one hath haunted me thus:
Even to this, Collatine entreats,
The painter’s fair wife, whose beauty so captiv’d her.
So she doth her fair guest confound,
And in this confounded state sets a man
To play the part of a coward:
The offender so steals his shame from me.
His name be it, or nature it be,
The coward, for shame or pleasure,
shall not be bound to his lustful foe;
Nor shall I be vexed that he should by,
Be with me for he loves me so,
That he may not be vexed that he should by,
And shall live by my side in his pride.”
When thou gav’st the summer’s wind, how can thine eye
Have power to wither the world in two winters?
Why then I have never been woo’d of youth,
Nor been woo’d of youth of love,
Nor ever been woo’d of love of thine age.
If the wind be blow’d with his foul habitude,
No pollution thence will be but thee,
But thou shalt remain ere thou get rid.
Love’s influence on this world is nothing
more than a fog that clears away
Than the sun that doth cast the tempest behind.
In him the world with sighs and groans grow,
And cold mistrust to chill the heart of his foes.
When I see the world’s smallest flower grow up in mire,
When most of nature’s blossoms cover up
His lovely face, and make him seem tame,
When most of nature’s flowers do cover up his full complexion,
When most of nature’s flowers do hide his true face,
When most of nature’s plants and flowers seem to change his complexion,
Or seem him conqueror to conquerors,
O to conquerors, conquest would yield no love;
And that conquest would be death’s conquest,
And that conquest would be love’s death.
O no, never! that was not my thought,
For never in the whole of my mind was my thought
(The world in general would say)
love is dead, my love still lives,
And then, having died, my love still lives again:
‘Tis true, O comfort to hate,
Then my love’s face is dead, ’tis still love’s face still alive,
And thou dead’st thy friend is living in me.
‘Tis true; if it be dead, kill it not.
‘I must say that I have a pretty daughter,’ quoth she,
And that she, too, is dear to me:
Her name is Jove, and she the child,
For who would deny her love? ‘Will she not tell my love
Who she is, and where?’ ‘Will she,’ quoth she, ‘ask me this question?
My dear love, in thy arms I

======== CHECKPOINT 045 OUTPUT # 004 ========

ashed of this, that she hath no right to complain.”
And as they are overcome by his terror, so are they dumb with his terror;
And thus her tears do cover up her grief;
‘O! the eye that’scaped all the world,
Upon her brow did cover up that part she did see;
But now she sees the world in another;
That’s all she can think of—this is all she can say;
‘Therefore, having laid the ground for my sin,
My body shall thy shame cover with shame,
Thine own body to mine own self thee to bring forth,
And all the treasure in thine own level,
That all men but mine own in me did steal.
‘But as she hath the spoil of all thy shame,
so shall my body be the thief of thee,
The love that’s more dear still still to me still holds:
My body shall in thee, too, thy shame steal:
And mine eyes to mine own self being gold
The world’s best hope doth me still crave:
I think thy self the sun doth dote,
The world’s best hope doth dote, and mine eyes the fire:
‘What of you, whose heart I dote to the sun,
But then should my heart dote to his?
Who should live whose life should my heart dote?
O therefore love’s eyes love, and love’s heart dote,
O therefore my heart should mine mine mine eyes love,
My heart should mine mine mine self love dote,
O therefore my heart should mine own self mine self love dote,
my heart mine self mine own self dote,
That I alone in a pure ocean should thrive.
‘”O what a hell of witchcraft had I heard!
And all that good, which thou gav’st to me,
Or that thou dost give to other gav’st,
Or (if thou wilt live) to all eternity,
Give me but one jewel thou gav’st so alone,
Mine own precious life in thee thou hast stole.
‘Why, didst thou steal his wife’s eye?
Was it my heart that did thy love latch,
Or my heart that did his eye latch hold?
O had it your own eye that did my heart latch,
Or (if it had your own eye) my heart (my own eye)
Laund’ring the thief on thy own poor beggar’s bed.
O if my poor wife were dead, why should she cry,
For shame or grief? for thee or for thy sake?
If she cries, kill her! then be merciful,
She would give the life of thine, if not life in thee.
‘Why should my husband, whose true love hath intruded
My life, and his (unapt) bliss behind
Crack-clack’d his broken glass and stole the treasure?
My life, my (unapt) life (unapt) bliss is hanging by,
The breach of my vows that is’t sealing:
The breach of vows I make in my love-killing heart.
Love to love, but never for love, will never be.
‘My tongue shall she cipher for my heart,
Who shall cipher my tongue’s false thief,
in this sad hour do I behold
the sad spectacle that your state will bear.
The day that marks thee with wrinkles and blotches,
The night that marks thee like waxen clouds and stars,
And the day that marks thee like night-wanderers:
In all these mine own offences hath my heart been troubled,
And now that your shadow hath been cast into my mind,
That I thy shadow was thy shadow’s pen,
Hath all my self wronged for your sin to stain,
And every foul act of yours that should stain me.
Thou blind thief, my humble thief,
Have done more than that which thou didst steal from me,
I will bequeath thee this, and thou shalt live.
‘O, what a torment that makes me think
That my body and soul in thee depend,
Of thy deeds, my soul’s and me my being depends,
That they to-day, but to-morrow are but minutes,
When late the lark in a pine-green stands,
To-morrow night will blot the lily-white
From the west, tomorrow the spring will set.
‘And what threat will my body in the way
May make to-morrow in haste?
Or mine in haste being first spotted,
And then being espied in the night by the wolf?
Let it then be as my tongue to-day says,
To-morrow in haste will sing, “Hail, fair sun!”

======== CHECKPOINT 045 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Southampton and I do love and admire so many,
Not in that I have but one,
Hast thou thine, in that I have two,
Thou me that art, in thine,
Thine, in that I am, thy in me,
Thou me both me and in me art.
Look, what a world it was then!
To this black-fac’d portal I descended,
But now that portal doth open and I
Under whose earth my heart hath sprung,
And hath fed me all my youth, and all my youth’s store.
Thy love, in all respects, is like the ocean’s,
Who in a short time converts two waves
To one again, that which doth thence remain.
How shall that fair ocean be converted
In one dry day to become this rich tide?
Till then thy ocean will be thy salt,
Where thou art, then, the best ocean thou canst see.
O most wondrous thing ever wrought in creation!
What mightst thou desire, that thou mightst be free?
Or what mightst thou desire, that thy self mightst wish?
But thou art free in that which thou art,
And all that is in me is none else.
O pardon me if my voice have disturbed my mind,
I do believe it was Sin,
And thou that art, I am the same,
Thy beauty, thy true love, thy false slander,
And for thy sake, mine own death, do excuse.
‘O how a sad hour it was when I lay
Poor Lucrece’ eyes fix’d on the sickly wretch,
whose red lips the world may see
Like snowflakes melting away the glow of heaven’s sun,
Or like the freezing cold dead of winter,
Or like the creeping sea being gone,
Or like a dying monarch being kept,
Or like the dying phoenix dead:
Such were my fears, and fears all fearful thoughts,
As when a fearful thing doth lurk in thought.
Yet have I not seen the shadow of his face,
And seen, as they stalk’d by him, the fear still in him:
So can I not then say that thou didst betray
A thought of such ruth in my behaviour?
Then all my life have I suffered, and none of mine die,
Nor hath he any fair praise to make me boast,
In his own boast of mine own stealing.
Now be of great comfort, O help me, my poor soul,
I should say, ‘That your poor rhyme might make a better rhyme;
That your poor rhyme might be as good as your rhyme,
Or at the least as good as yours being.’
‘”O true, good angel, thou that didst betray me,
Make that my excuse to swear I was not so.
Be sober and sensible, and straight awake,
And sober and sensible sleep doth wake my weary brain.
For why should I then say thou didst betray
A thought, a deed, a blurt, a swan,
And to this came she this picture taken:
When I was old and dumb and despised,
Sweet Lucrece, now be my lover again.
My love, thy good grace, grant it be kept
From external shame, and return whence thou mayst find.
My love I hold so dear that thou art all-conquerable,
Since that which thou hast, then I hold it for thee.
‘Tis I your shadow that shadows your shadow do show,
Tis thou that shadows my shadow is confounded,
And all earthly that shadows is confounded:
That’s enough, Collatine, for I to be shadowed.
But wherefore are you all that do not act
On me, to do my good?
Or, being so, I in turn incline,
To do my good? by that we all make some alteration,
For instance, thou shouldst give this poor lamb a bone,
Where by thy goodness in heaven thou mayst reign.
And for that thou art so gracious,
In giving thy sweet lamb this ornament.
Let not my love’s sweet lamb be deceived,
Or thy dear lamb that had this ornament stolen,
That thou mayst possess the spoil of a thoure known.
And therefore be contented
To bear thou through a labyrinth of labyrinths,
For thou shalt find some place where thou mayst seek.
O never believe that I am not thy sweet love,
thou that ever liv’d in thine age,
In thee shalt dwell life to the last,
As in thy self thou lov’st to hear my tale told,
And in thine living age in age to age,
thy sweet love shall survive and evermore

======== CHECKPOINT 046 OUTPUT # 001 ========

Phones to hear of them, and to see their faces.
And they that seek thee do summon their attention,
And they in their blindness do lend the light,
As fast as they perceive thee, their eyes lend thee light.
“Poor child,” she says, “young, and of little worth,
The boy to me must be, and I must teach thee
how to make one with my beauty.
As children they steal beauty’s drops and rubs them
Into every light impression they see,
And every kiss they have, the contents change:
‘Think not of life, or death, or hell, or any thing
But of Time, or change, or to any thing ever.
O what a dream, what a thing it is!
Imagine in my blood the creation of water,
And I an ocean whose fresh beauty doth lie,
Or in the fresh spring doth my milk grow,
Or in the palm of a spring set
on thy sweet self I’ll praise thee,
For thou hast lived, and I in thee,
So love’s face should be buried with thy name,
When thou livest and my love dost live.”
‘Thou art the mother,’ quoth she, ‘And from thee I’ll throw
My son’s treasure, whereupon I’ll set thee
In such chase thou art, that thou on my lips must peep.
How did I get thee thy handkerchiefs, thou murther’st me,
And all these for want of skill, art thou art no master?
No, thou didst use them to kill me,
And yet thou art a god of abuse, to use them
To slay my sweet love with thy teeth, and to rob my life.
My love is stronger when my love is strong,
And mine is weak when my love is weak,
I’ll be weak, and then all my life’s work is stopp’d.
O how she herself doth wrong, and seeks
Another revenge on my untimely death;
She makes him her slave, and doth spend the night,
And all together sleep till morning come,
And there they play together till bed-waking,
When Lucrece wakes and sees her bewailed.
‘For thou wilt take me in thy thoughts,
If thou wilt, why seek of me thou depart
From these tables, and go straight to bed.’
‘What want of thoughts can my heart make?’ quoth she,
As if she might make a devil of her say.
He spurns, and straight she says,
Her tongue is out-sweet, but her voice is plain;
She speaks in general, but that tongue which speaks her words,
Shall be blunt in my words, but my words be sharp,
And all my bluntness in my words be sharp’d.
“Ay my poor soul,” quoth she, “canst thou help me,
Make haste to get me where thou canst come,
To look after thee, when thou shalt come again.
O Time, how can this be, though I not remember
The day or night yet spent in thoughts or words?
Let no time of folly bring wrong thence,
Time will blot me out, and Time will make me laugh;
‘Tis my fault that thou hast done me wrong,
For I did thy office and receiv’st no thanks.
A thousand excuses sent me from my sight,
And, mad that my sight should give them up,
So my poor sight again shall drown my heart.
And now she hears him, and then ‘gins to cry,
‘My daughter, my child!’ she cries, and leaps at him.
This desperate cry echoes in her brain:
The thing is, she perceives, the force
Of the thing, she is captivated by,
And so the passion of his passion doth stay,
Whilst my life is stopp’d and life lost.
Let me tell you all in my memory I did see
The boar, the boar, and the boar gone,
But nothing I see now am true.
‘But were I, now was the moment when thy might
Had the power to stop and stop time,
And stop the thief in the act of theft.
The moon hath sung, thou hast won the day,
Hang on, wait on the birds, and chase the time,
Sweetly to greet thee as thou shalt soon appear;
But thou turn back again, the day will not wink,
The crow will not crow at the roe,
Or at the dove, if he bark.
Look, thy sweet semblance, my semblance,
That to thee dost lie and lie dead,
And every part in me that is
Hath thy nature buried and never seen,

======== CHECKPOINT 046 OUTPUT # 002 ========

physique was all but made for sorrow and end;
The silver blood stained with it, and by it became king;
Yet by it did Sin live, as soon as life be dead,
And die as fast as light can fly.
By this Sin was she flown from her,
And never found another mother,
Nor never spied another life among her many,
Nor never bathed in the spring sunshine she gave:
But never had any beauty on earth that could compare
To the deep-green sepulchres that now stand
In the fresh water of Paradise.
‘”My dear friend, this injury is my fault,
The heavy deed is the fault of my absence;
And if it be not, my absence was my help,
And thou (not my ill) I will thy aid,
By th’ absence thy help being abundant.
When thou hast fed, thou replenisher,
And I thy traitor,
The guilty party will not be caught dead;
And to the verdict of thy guilt,
Thy verdict is so fair as day, and thus my fame:
My death, my life is as fair as night,
But that which thou hast fed, my life and death,
Thy judgement being such a shame to me,
That thou my murd’rous self cannot rid,
Or even my pure soul from thence.
‘O pardon me if I often seem
Dazed and Dread, when my mind is dull and dim.
O if my lips, like marble, had not power,
Would stain like wax, my joints would not hold them up,
Nor could they strong hands to hold them mend;
O if my heart, like marble, were steel’d,
And couldst not be shaken, nor touch’d by mortal hands,
My bones would not be soft nor strong,
Thy joints would quake with injury, thy joints would tremble,
Thy eyes would burn, thy soul would plead for help,
And beauty would cry foul, and scorn be mute:
And to be hated, thou shouldst not be so great,
That you to hate should survive (though not die)
That is the beauty of things so black!
To love I did devise a god to mock
With ugly vices, and with ugly tricks,
So your kind acceptance to me should be,
And you shall be my herald to advance
That better art you and better you art.
‘And whilesnot th’ effect is, yet he knows
No such thing as desire to do,
He knows best what he cannot use to persuade,
Nor when he needs he shall resort to persuasion:
Thus in spite of seeming love,
She pursues this double edge of conceit:
To him my self was the only one;
Then was I but an actor in his motion,
The show being done, he takes the light,
And turns to her where he lays a band,
Who, like statues, sit upon lofty statues,
And all enchanting their silver hue,
With painted figures, ornaments, ornaments in their trim.
‘But poor boy,’ quoth she, ‘now you see what kind of a man
He is, and now you see what kind of a mother
My art thou worthy to lead me forth.
‘”O, help me! when I am in the way,
You will lend me light, if you will lend me strength,
To keep me in my arms, keep me still in your arms;
And if you will lend me strength, that strength,
To stand beside you, that strength in you,
will the night so please? ‘”O no, sweet boy,” quoth she, “if the heavens could make me live
With a sluggard eye, or blind eye,
Or a false tongue, or an all-conquering tongue,
Or even a boar’s mark, and death by him applied,
Or like a band of wolves, or like a band of deer,
Or like a wolf, that ever live, shall not kill thee;
For with all thy strength I besiege thee;
And by thy help shalt thou be assured of victory.
The night is thus so nigh, the day so brief,
The weary eye so full, the weary heart so slack:
Even so this melancholy morn, the weary ear
The unweakened ear, with restless groans reworded,
Doth all but tune the sad notes of lamentation,
To let the worn-out ear have it with other sounds.
‘”How rude thou art! How rash! How weak! How unkind! How cold! How pale! How cold! How strong! How heavy! How gusty! How strong! How weak! How windy! How cold! How hot! How cold!

======== CHECKPOINT 046 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Century a little love, and a little hate;
And when he calls upon the help of heaven,
The priest to his assistance would summon
The holy nun, and be kinder, in supposing,
He will have a more holy look in her eyes,
If only he would permit it to be called thine.
And as the angel comes to her eye,
And the blessed angel looks on him,
With sweet gentleness she chides him, and so
And so begins a debate over love and hate;
She answers ‘I hate’, and ‘Thy face’ answer ‘love’s’,
And ‘Thy heart’ answers ‘Thy eyes’. ‘Hadst thou never seen thy love,’ quoth she,
‘looked on thine eye, it was the most lovely sight
of age and death, in thy image,
And to such an eye I list thee, so mournful,
That thou in my verse do more honour,
Than any thou art in my verse.
‘Why have ye not seen that thou art not of mine
Though in my verse speak of thine,
Or that thou art a child of thy self,
Or that thou art a true and blessed man,
Or any number of them, then my verse is better,
Since thou art still thy slave to destroy,
Whilst thou art still my slave to live the dead.
And wherefore then do I not call on my wit
to chide thy fair and pure self,
If, like a silly fool, thou do mis-grace,
Or even to betray the truth, if thou wilt,
Then becap my fair self to make some mistake,
Which will in thy fair self be harmed:
Or else becap such a fool a fool to see,
That despite thy fair self’s faults thy fair self,
Doth trespass in the fair with thee.
‘Why, sweet Adonis, do I pine to thee more,
And pine to my mistress’ maid what she knows of thee,
And spend all our time in praising thy beauty,
To praise those beauties that are unseen,
And in time by time you measure well your worth.
In this the verdict may be,
And that I love you in that which I do list,
So that my life may teach you something new,
Of wit well I may in that life you see,
That is not lost in this decay of my time,
Though you change my mind or change my sight.
‘O, take away my verse! Too much of my verse,
O no longer are my rhyme words breath,
As breath that breathes on air, earth, fire, water, dust, nor bone,
So long as thou livest, breathe again,
And do not live to tell of the day.
Thus have I been forced to spend my time
In painting a map, to impress
on my mistress my love, my daughter, my wife,
all of you in your love’s worth are dear.
O pardon me, as I am not the best I can be,
Yet to the end I must confess it is my best,
Since I am your love and you were your best.
The night is almost up and I hear that there’s
A man’s voice, a woeful noise,
Like the freezing of a dead tree;
Whose sharp teeth and heavy hands are like to quake;
The sea, the air, the thunder and all are rifled
Within a minute’s period of time.
And, being done, the clouds (without clouds)
In their fresh alabaster shade begin to blot
All that beauty that in heaven contains,
And in thy immodesty seem’st so great blot.
Even so these barren stones are full of love’s shade,
And in them the beauty of Time
Doth appear in every thing; in mine it is stain’d,
And in it thou gav’st my spirit to give grace.
‘”If there be fire, it is an angry thing
To burn himself out, or else to leave
The fire which with his death-slow fire doth burn.
‘Why, if there be poison, it is an inviting thing
To know that death is lurking in every part.
The sun is not yet set, nor yet no time yet yet yet
Will yet give light to my fire, which needs no light
To scorch my earth with his fire of fire,
For now all my fire is dead and all my sun is rise.
But if in the coming night the world is full,
And as the eclipse is about,
Then shall my love dry the blood of my sun,
And wipe out the weed that grows here in my field.
“Then, O Lord, lend me some help, help me not to drown,

======== CHECKPOINT 046 OUTPUT # 004 ========

intestinal, in his power, is to win the war.
O Time, what good can a war have,
When the victor is none?
Thou dost love to win, and win so,
By love, but no love can win thee;
To win, thou dost love to lose,
A false war to win a true love,
And to lose, to win, win not love’s foul desire:
Love to win, he will win ‘gainst thee.’
‘But be wise, be brave, and do not dote,
For I am not as thou allege,
As some silly bird, with false eyes doth sing,
‘My beauty should be despised by all,
Not just because of height, but because of complexion.
O be not so, for beauty doth stand proud,
And beauty is shameless still,
And still and shameless still the day after.
‘And now his visage is seen by the ear,
Who hears it, and sees it not so.
This is my friend, that in thy verse art seen,
And that in the life of other men,
Thy love lives and thou dost die.
And if thou desire, give it up for my verse,
And then I your verse in others lives,
O that your love may live again in me.
‘The more, the more the lines seem lost,
The more the grief doth appear, the more the sorrow appear
The less the lines remain: for that loss which thou art
is thine. O, do not take away
The light that in the dead of night doth shine,
For darkness lives by night’s death and time doth wear.
‘Look, thy dear love, thy good angel,
Who lives and breathes life in thy face,
Till death with him, thy sweet love’s ashes,
Is dispers’d in little smoke, where thou art buried,
When by the grace of nature’s power,
Thy beauty be dispers’d everywhere.
O never mind when I write to thee,
I for thee should live, for in thee art born,
That life may live again in thee,
And thou in this in the very act
Die with thee, even of that which thou shalt mix.
‘O Love, thou blot that blot upon mine eyes,
O love, thou blot upon my heart that thou dost blot,
O love, thou blot upon my tongue that thou dost speak,
O love, thou blot upon my heart that thou dost utter,
O love, thou blot upon my soul that thou dost hold,
O love, thou blot upon my soul that thou dost hold,
O love, thou blot upon my soul that thou dost hold,
O love, thou blot upon my soul that thou dost hold,
O love, thou blot upon my soul that thou dost hold,
O love, thou blot upon my soul that thou dost hold,
O love, thou blot upon my soul that thou dost hold,
O love, thou blot upon my soul that thou dost hold,
O love, thou blot upon my heart that thou dost hold,
O love, thou blot upon my heart that thou dost hold,
O love, thou blot upon my soul that thou dost hold,
If that be a miracle, then I pray so,
that love’s eternal course may be ended:
‘So then by thy death the world can live
And in thy immortal hand mayst not die.
‘Thus begins his charmed tale,
His fair name Collatine, his golden mantle,
And with gentle effect all their majesty stand:
A maidens’ voice, ’tis so. ‘For that sweet face of his,
That ever with his fair hands he defends us,
And every bush to the tree with a leaf he trimeth,
And every fowl to the grass shooteth,
And every bush to the grass shooteth,
And every fowl to the grass shooteth,
And every bush to the grass shooteth,
And every fowl to the grass shooteth,
And every fowl to the grass shooteth.
‘For thus the dark-fac’d Lucrece sleeps,
That wakeful Night’s eye she spies,
When her sleeping mother doth wake and wake
With deep sighs, that her lips do ache.
To her she hears faint groans, and deep groans,
And groans deep, deep deep, deep to her ears,
And deep sighs deep, deep, deep, deep to her ears,
And deep groans deep, deep, deep to her ears,
And deep groans deep, deep, deep, deep to her ears,
And deep groans deep, deep,

======== CHECKPOINT 046 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Orange with his hair and beard,
And down to the brook, where merry grooms assemble,
Playing the pine orchards, for mourning’s sake.
If she, ah, be ill, I stay home,
Though by and by to-morrow I get sick.
‘And yet, lo! behold the clouds drenching
The night that shall never dry;
I have seen the lily pale, the fennel pale,
And violet blushing, pale and fresh,
And red as heaven’s red fire,
That blushes red, white, and in both.
But, lo, this night I shall behold no more!
But night is past all, and now I am bereft.
But that I am so oft the object of sorrow,
As when I would have been absent, now I am gone,
Even as the moon doth not shine till after dark,
And never the blushing fair queen doth show,
Nor doth she weep, nor groan, nor groan;
Nor do they flatter with their sad sights;
Nor do they laugh at the sad spectacle;
Nor do they break their fast for a spot;
Nor do they turn their heavy hearts to thy aid,
Nor do they take up the weary time
To watch silly creatures long on idle hours.
The birds sing in her ears, the waves make them shudder,
As night-wanderers shudder at the noise of the wind;
But every sound impediments her voice:
So each sound impediments her thought,
Making it harder to bear: now she cries out,
And now she sings aloud, still more strong,
The one that thou hast o’erwhelming,
With his arms her meld’d, her arms’ combined,
And like two enchanting crystals, each a rose
Shone with her own concealing flower.
‘Yet would not thou kiss, as I had but desire,
Even to thy grave-wish’d foot, and to thy sweet cheek.
‘Now see this device I created to keep thee here,
My body and soul together still together
Till each other’s eye the sickle doth open.
‘Thus I say to the world, since my death,
When death enrag’d my soul, the soul bound,
The worm which feeds on mortality feeds.
‘”The earth hath no salt doth water,
Nor coal nor coal-black smoke doth dwell,
Mine eye (black) doth the better see what lies
Under that moist substance doth lend:
And if thou find no salt therein,
Then mine eye doth the better see what lies
Under that moist substance doth lend.
‘Then be this my love a little while longer,
For by this time I must show thee the way,
And if thou hast not, then my love will find thee;
And if thou do, be not afraid, nor thou shun,
When in the utmost sense thou art assured
the heart is thine and thy other hand all together,
In love, I love thee more than my heart is,
I love thee still, but for love, all together,
To share with thy other half all that I possess,
Even then love’s flame may burn the world away,
In darkness do Tarquin burn the world away,
Which would seem the worse for Tarquin’s sake.
‘Now,’ quoth she, ‘your mother died when I was three,
And I three live, to-day still can’t give away,
Unless by some rare accident I might go back,
And there your father may be, you know,
Since my father died when I was three.”
‘The world, my dear,’ quoth she, ‘without thy help I cannot see,
And even then it would be thy fault,
When Opportunity is my shadow;
And all my thoughts, passions and abuses are hid,
The sad spectacle would be none too sad,
And the sight dull’d with sad daunts and hounds.
‘But why should mine eyes be blind as mine own,
And mine own eyes the whole ill-seeing,
When combined in one sad night,
With sad eclipses and oblivion nightly,
And constant dolour in the face of all,
So that even in a bare earth we see
The death of one by nature’s trespass,
Or that of all by chance dead wrong,
Or any such thing, the earth but sick with sickness,
So my soul drowns in sad night, and by day wakes up
And feeds on the breath of life,
As from a hollow-slaughter’d ocean thou dost breathe,
Or from an airy furnace thou hast no vent,
And why hast my soul been confined so long,
Like clockwork that hath no

======== CHECKPOINT 047 OUTPUT # 001 ========

cur, and made it his habit
To let the boar know where he lies.
But when he saw her he knew not where,
And thought it best that his coy behaviour should win,
By pursuing his prey so afar:
‘Why, what foul deed will I be tempted
To breed some bastard child from the herd?
Look how I love him now more than I ever loved him,
Hateful eyes that taught me to hate them still.
If any, dear boy, by thy outward semblance know
Of faults in me, then know me all those days spent,
To make me your best self, your greatest slave,
For thou art my greatest treasure, and my wits best.
The more I read the mermaid’s story,
The less my self love doth my worth diminish,
But the more do my love’s name make me much less.
Then would my loving self be in love, and thy worth decrease,
Thou wouldst be my child, and still alive with me:
Yet being lost, never to return again:
But with that loss I must live and I die,
That’s to be desired of every friend:
For being loved, one sweet feeling hath death’s joy,
And all grief is death’s sorrow’s doom.
“Thou art the tenth, thou twelfth; thou thine last is
And death is thine, and thou shalt not be.
O therefore do thou assay their looks,
For thou lov’st those in me whose eyes thou lov’st,
And those in thee whose eyes thy heart dost deceive.
, by this (though for fear of offence)
He clears his sight, and doth leave behind
Unwholesome stains in his red, and in white.
“O, foul Muse, thou cannot see what I am
Like to what thou lov’st, even with that knife!
Yet in thy sad, bloodless face that makes thee ghastly,
The effect is like that of drunken delight:
To drink in my blood so that others drink by:
By this, all pity was subdued,
And sorrow in general was subdued.
So with himself, for whose sake her woes are tied,
His eyes did confound the morning’s intent,
To make her stay a while longer, to make her stay night.
‘But thou art the one, who in thee a thousand tears hang,
That thou canst not weep for my sake.”
“It was thy fault thy hair fell short,
And thou that dar’st my nails all over again:
For thou art the thing that dar’st me:
And thou art the thing that makes me weep most:
Thou wilt be so kind, to lend me excuse.”
‘Thus she with more than gentle Lucrece stood
Into the fire which Tarquin made her abide,
And with more than mild-complexioned sportioned grace
Hath carved a dwelling on her head,
Hath overseen her diet, had all her needs checked,
And never begrudgeth what her superiors doth forbid:
This noble trust, that kept her company,
Lends credence to her all-wresting tale,
And gives light to every troubled eye.
By this she was brought unto a city of tears,
That hath been stained with foul blood, but not of life:
A thousand crosses will bear witness that thou art black,
To whom no man doth more approve,
Thou lov’st me that my deeds bear witness;
But be thou that I am not black,
Thou lov’st me that I am not white,
Thou lov’st me that I am not gay:
thou art the fairest of all the wretches,
And that all my hard-favour’d labour hast fairer fed,
To work the patterns of every lovely bud,
And thou (Thou) thy self art the first to make them grow,
To breed so of nature’s golden breed
That thou alone shall bear them their peeping age,
And to breed all these in thy hand,
Then in my right hand shall reign this shame,
To reign such disgrace in me as thou dost reign,
And such great shame in me as thou dost reign,
That all my images should be buried in thee.
Thou hast replete beauty with all her show,
And of thy face with all her fame,
That I in thy self should be the proud
Of all the living things on earth:
The sun doth dote on me, yet my eyes are fix’d
In the east, and on the earth thy face.
As the painter is wont to show,
The thing he seeks to show, the effect takes place.
Let it therefore as a lesson

======== CHECKPOINT 047 OUTPUT # 002 ========

greg, by his own breaking,
He can himself be depriv’d of his liberty,
For why should I then still have freedom of thee?
For what is mine to thee, do not rob me of that,
Which is my true self to thee,
That is thy self to me, and evermore me:
“Lo thus in her dim misty chamber,
Hergens she a boy and a girl:—
Ain’t thy beauty well masked?
Look what a man’s waste damps down his sight,
To see his waste and damps in me.
I hate but pity that thou art so hated,
O for thy beauty’s sake thou art so hated,
Mine own waste damps up the good that thou hast done,
To whom I send this sweet note, not to boast,
For thou art my all, my most.
So with that, I say, as with a lover,
For love of all, my life doth me more praise.
‘But look,’ quoth she, ‘do I not love the sun
Of his fresh creation, and the deep green of his coat?
And for that I do love him now and then,
As if he had it in him, still doth dote,
When beauty was doting, yet doth dote now
Like an April mist, but doth now give light
To her eyes, that dote most o’er them still.
‘Then be merciful, ’tis true, and it is true
And true and true in thee: ’tis true, and true in me,
And true and true in thee, and true in thee:
And I believe in thee when thou dost believe.
And now that the tide hath turned his brown back,
A kind of triumphal swoon still I dare not place,
As pity at that, at that, forsworn hope:
For all my pity I would say no more,
The cause of my absence is no love of yours,
Nor mine own lack but their love’s love’s delight.
And therefore should I live, thy love and mine hate still hold,
Unless thy use of beauty should prove so cruel.
For this reason I hold thee to be too dear
To make thee my partner, though thou go captive.
The night is past when all my hard-favour’d hopes may rest,
The day I once more dote on the night,
The hour is past pale, the weary time away,
And in my time’s wasted time my love’s waste doth lie,
Wherein he forlorn I list my love and thy hate,
And then my time is past pale, and mine time is spent,
That time which cannot spend with me was spent with thee.
Love was the painter, and in it he did carve,
Each part that he did alter,
Then being reft from him, that left him was in decay,
The rest in him was the light, and light in him was stain’d.
O how can my mistress bewitch thee so mad,
That thou wilt find her in such distress,
If she be so unkind to me?
O but for my love she was but mistress of mine,
O but for thy love, my love is my dearest friend,
And therefore I hold thee all in trust,
And trust in her as much as in thee is willing.
The very act is so injurious to the state,
That we call them ne’ersters, niggards, thieves, and thieves;
And yet they in virtue seem so,
That they in virtue seem like fools,
Lest we should mistake their mild manners for rashness.
She sings a rosy hymns to the tunes troubled,
For they did hear the song with her ear:
Then they bid the lark add his tongue,
That his lips might utter more, that his tongue might speak.
“O yes, that my sweet boy may go,
And yet on the day of my decease
I shall dwell in thoughtless despair,
But in the night by night my self thou dost grow,
That thou on the grass mayst see thy beauty grow.
‘I could not stand that my body should bear thee,
If that were thy dear soul in me to die.
My life with thee, though living and ever,
But eternity and all thy waste shall live,
If thy soul be bereft me in this hell,
Thy body in eternity shall hold thee in debt.
But let thy bones be as strong a foundation
As earth, with thy living dolour doth stand,
And thou on thy living dolour stand,
A monument to all eternity.
If thine honour be forgot, mine honour be bereft,

======== CHECKPOINT 047 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Nin-eight is better than twenty-four,
For thou art so many, that will bear thee twenty.”
So he concludes her tale, and comments on her fame;
And yet she speaks in tongues far greater eloquence,
Than the lips of maidens, nor their sweet accents:
She speaks of heavenly grace, of heavenly love,
O most holy earth, where alack! is thy beauty,
And thou hast made my days barren of time,
And forced to live in bloody hell,
But here and there I think thou grow’st, and yet thou art not worth thy part:
So shalt thou be dead, and not me live.
O peace, thou art my love! (This I answer, when he says)
“When I have sworn a vow, to thee I prove,
And in thy answer I have sworn to thee,
My oath is oath; let no man make false it;
And swear a thousand lies that thou shalt find,
So true a witness canst thou prove,
Which should disgrace my heart, my soul, my fame,
And all my fame to disgrace thee;
Who dost perjury make so adulterate a witness?
If I love thee too much to love thee,
It was not my intent, that so thy love did amend:
for fear of fame thy outward parts shine,
And thy inward parts pine with more light,
And if so, why should I thy outward parts,
Of which my inward parts are beauties more richly made,
Than those external parts in thee are?
If they be external parts, how should they my looks,
That make my affections more laudant and bold?
O let beauty imitate men, whose shape is more commend’d,
And be empatronly shamed by their own show,
beauty is neither man’s nor woman’s style:
And beauty being both, can neither be nor do either,
beauty being both, I suspect no man can love thee:
I have seen so much, but seldom of thee,
That I think the deep impression left me is death,
If thou think so, then be of help I.
She that doth love her dearly doth call her,
To be remembered for evermore,
Even in the faces of men she bears her story,
And lives to see her husband die,
And never dies to see her be buried alive.
‘Thou art,’ quoth she, ‘a father,’ ‘a mother,’ ‘a sister,’ ‘a brother,’ ‘a dear friend,’
‘Tis but the sweetest delight to hear;—not to enjoy it so!’
‘O,’ quoth she, ‘how could one love so sweet a thing?’
Then why should one tongue love such a tongue as mine?
That tongue that taught me how to write for you,
When I could write with the rest my wit,
Though you were the better pen to praise the best?
O if it could, love might in it grow.
‘”When thou wilt see my face, gentle boy,
How canst thou then reprehend me?
Or canst thou then the fore-breathing of my eyes,
To bear witness to my untimely death?
Or will not thou this shadow betray me,
To the very shadow mock at my woes,
Who surcease to acknowledge that thou art so fair,
That ever to thy fair self I praise thee,
Where life and death must seem so dissimilar:
Now when thou art old, do not fear my voice,
My tears will never drown, nor life’s sorrows drown:
No, no, my sorrows do breathe new life in,
And life’s sorrows fresh sorrows in new life renews.
When thou shalt view all my beauties,
The tears shall cease and the hairs shall grow fowl,
And thou, fair lord of my fair gardens,
Will in thy green flower, as much delight
As corn or sugar shall thy shade bear;
When in thine own sweet flowers shall thy sweet flowers live,
The red blood being fairer, the white fairer:
And where those two extremes meet,
One sweet, the other kind,
With thee stands at a cross between two extremes,
Which yet, being both, being neither,
The two would neither thrive, though both sweet.
“How much more could my love say?”
“How much more could it say?” quoth she.
“About twenty lines; and in my verse do
Ten, or twenty straight lines come to mind;
O twenty, twenty, twenty lines do transfix my verse;
Do I not say this works better in verse than verse,
Or better in mood, than rhyme?
Which may well be said that in your verse

======== CHECKPOINT 047 OUTPUT # 004 ========

fighter on foot.
“How long then shall we be unseen?”
If ever Adonis reigns queen of this storm,
He will not fade from view, for he was never married:
He was but a stormy night, and rain fell,
And in the fair rain fell an ebon cloud,
Which doth still stain his face and make him dally;
And now Tarquin, this mortal fiend,
Doth burn his brow, and yet the world’s eye doth view
His beauty and that priceless jewel he sought.
So, quoth she, was the day the devil’s and the fair,
When he as black in the sky did cast his light
In the glowing orb of his will.
Yet doth this night nature teach the devil a lesson,
As to show how to a saint she came to despise,
To love that she did enchant with thine eye.
“And now for shame,” quoth she, “do I not,
With an action of such force,
Unsubstantiate a true scandal of this date,
For this false witness is in my verse so strong?
In that case, wherein am I to prove?
The truth in my verses is the stronger proof,
If that prove true, that proves thy Will strong.
But why not I, with a straight heart prove,
That love is love by oath, not in kind?
Thou art in love, and in this thou must abide;
I was in love with you long before,
Love was new and curious, and could not be cured;
Love was strong, and patient, and true,
And just in a lover, but patient in a wretch,
Which in a lover became an afterwitter.
Yet what is love to thee, but a friend to thine?
Thou art not the same to me, and I do admire
Thou art not the same to thee.
‘And therefore did I not but act,
A careless conceit, a false god, a thief,
A false swine, a bankrupt widow, a bastard slave
And all for sin in me, my worth and worth nothing;
Thou art a living sprite, a dying goddess,
To live like her in thine own image,
And like her in life by death be blamed.
But thou that art dead, yet live to imitate,
thou art dead, and therefore I approve,
For each one that touches me touches thee,
And that my self in thee is done.
‘When thou fill my bosom with largess,
And fill up thy bosom with all the gifts I have got,
So shall the world pardon me when I am poor,
And put an end to this cruel plague,
By thy love’s sickening repeal to mine own praise.
‘I will not pine to make excuses for my crime,
Nor swear an eye against my untimely death,
My unkindness to him will never be proved;
In him my crime may be measured by thee,
When in thy strength thou art so strong, thou art weak,
And thou art so strong that I dare not defy thee;
As for that, mine self, too strong to defy thee,
Will by thy strength manage me to a park,
Where thou art most contented.
When thou art most contented, why should I fear me then?
The time’s fair hour, the moment’s sweet pleasure,
is to win the match, and keep it alive.
“My sweet lord,” quoth she, “these terms from my lips,
In case you may say so, ’tis true, my tongue is old.
And therefore, in hope of eternal youth,
And true to antiquity, my verse not new,
May appear some twenty times old, to be forgot,
But then the wit of hearts shall live, and truth some twain.
“Whence then then shall I say ‘This is the boy I love’?
Thou wilt have my love but a dream,
When in reality I am the child of a god,
When in life, or in the accomplishment of age,
Or in poetry, or in sports, or in any
Nature, ever hold thy parts in bondage,
And keep thy form in numbers of ten,
For thine as thine, I the same,
Hath the same origin, but in thee thine.
O, in thy heart the earth’s spring is no spring,
but ‘gainst the season by sweating;
Shall that cold heat which from thee doth lie,
Save it from thence thou hast to contend,
Which of thee thy plants yieldeth?
What flower dost thou among thy flowers yield?
What weed dost thou among thy leaves yield?
Or what weed doth

======== CHECKPOINT 047 OUTPUT # 005 ========

misc, if thou wilt take care to keep mine eye afar,
Or my heart to check, if not my heart to stop me.
Let those that by thy side may profit,
Not be blinded by thy will alone,
For who can deny that thou art all the better part?
For who knows not a god to wink so
When in the likeness of a deformed boar?
When in the true form of a man thou reignest,
A true love that cannot disguise itself,
Is but pretended to love in me; that thou wilt call it mine.
And, so far from reproach, so far from shame.
My love is as warm in thy arms as in thy hand,
And in thy veins as deep a sigh as earth’s water:
Oft wherefore are thy hopes set aside,
That I not their esteem to know?
My love is a kind of hope, like a kind of fear;
And yet more than a semblance, like the drops’ salt,
Than those silver drops, that upon thy skin,
Shalt make thy thought to wash them again.
“Yet how many have, that never saw their father;
Yet have seen them only as children, now as sons,
As orphans, now as children now, now as children’s eyes.
‘His beard, like a proud lion’s,
Holds in all pride his sharp claws, and in his chin are fixed,
Which are to be admired but his fair parts,
He whose name is Priam may be called,
If from forth his pride lie bereft his glory,
But if he in his pride be bereft thy will,
In thy will I forswore not love, nor never loved thee.
If ever my life should say that love is dead,
Or at thy parting ever live,
Or ever be buried in all that was before,
Or ever been any where else,
A pure death that we call now our.
‘”And now come to my cause’s door,
To let it be open’d to the public:
So I by my plea do abide,
My cause’s purpose to rehearse,
In case of war with you-or with me.
‘To win my self away, I’ll undertake
A quest of thine eye, wherein thou shalt find,
An antique knife, a carved knife, or a carved horn,
Which thou shalt enchant with thy skill,
Whilst I enchant thee to thy liking,
And thus to enjoy thy grace, by pleasing thee so,
Let him hold his horse, that in him doth lie,
But in his pride to delight thee so.
‘Thou, Collatine, ‘canst not live without my show,
For in it thou dost hide the treasure thou dost hide;
If that treasure be misplaced and my show,
Thy beauty be in thy show too late,
For I in thee so live that thou live’st no more:
Thy face, despite thy beauty so doth live,
thy beauty should live in thine too late,
And thy face in thine too late is defaced.”
“But is it thou that says in praise of beauty thou art so hard,
ose tongue no longer can express thy beauty,
Nor tongue to tongue can thy verse express,
Or in two like tongues could thy tongue express:
Or in three like tongues could thy tongue say,
Which for thee in three like tongues is made.
‘But is it thou that says in praise of beauty thou art so hard,
ose tongue no longer can express thy beauty,
Or tongue to tongue can thy verse express,
Or in three like tongues could thy tongue say,
Which for thee in three like tongues is made.
‘But is it thou that says in praise of beauty thou art so hard,
ose tongue no longer can express thy beauty,
Or tongue to tongue can thy tongue say,
Which for thee in three like tongues is made.
‘Thou art both, and art both both both,
And then I swear in the power of thy soul,
Thy presence makes me sick, but thou in my will
May do thy will do my cure.’
Thus begins the troubled story of the Trojan war,
Of Troilus, the unnoted son of Ilion,
Where Trojan’s pride was crowned king,
When Trojan kings were reigned by the Greeks,
And by Lucrece’ death by the blood of Trojan,
The Lucrece’ son was slain, by her own oath;
Celestial tears, bloodless celestial dust,
Shall pour forth the blood of Cytherea, and make love to her;
And as those tears likewise did pour forth the dew,
The dying Roman general threw his sword,
Upon that

======== CHECKPOINT 048 OUTPUT # 001 ========

ets as I have been, yet do they praise thee:
And therefore have I been, yet do they disdain thee,
The one to love me more than the other.
And yet thou still the better know’st I am old,
And yet am I young, still am I old,
And yet am thou still my youth, still am I old.
Let me be true in thy heart, for love hath an end,
And love, by loving, is revenged on thee.
“O, dear boy,” quoth she, “look at that picture of your
Which I left unspotted, and now you see,
The world-without-end date, where every teen
Makes one hell of a summer’s day,
And even of a bounteous harvest year,
Even with your picture is beauty dead:
Yet look where those lovely pearls in thy hand,
Are spent, that we cannot stain them with our blood.
And where do you think these treasure-digging talents
mightily store up those dead,
When no living thing can they cherish?
O would they not, if they could have, life should have them still;
And then all those living things that are dear
Save those that are dear, seem but living things.
“Poor girl,” quoth she, “this is your last thought,
ose still in her head she hath but begun.
I have many friends in this world, and all of them here perish,
And yet none of them will give me up again,
Even to die, unless thou wilt leave me, and die alone:
For I am so fond that I would live in others,
And still live for you, and die with you.”
O how her face now forgot her youth!
If this love could still hold,
Love’s flame would burn like a pale-fac’d dove,
And die like the dead bird again in her nest.
‘But I swear, thou tutor of my soul,
Who is to me your tutor and guide,
(If my love be dead, my love’s life will not live,)
And with the help of my tongue and heart
Through incense, sweet melody and colour
To sing hymns to thee, and to thee;
And with prayers sweetly do fold them,
Upon thy bosom’s level, where thou wilt find them,
In thy heart, where thou gav’st them still.
So shall I pray for thee, and for thee not;
Then shalt thou be my sweet love and thou thy friend.
‘Nor be it lawful for a wedlock to leave
His wife and children; he that commits such a deed,
Will forfeit his life, and forfeit all his wealth:
And being free in so doing, he forfeit’s life:
‘Tis a common sin to deprive one’s friend;
For stealing liv’d a present, and lost a present
Forgery, and wretched trespass, that hath done thee harm.
‘”I’ll break the lock that holds my sweet love’s neck,
And tear the turtle from his turtle shell:
I’ll grind the poor carcass to death,
And burn the hive-god with hell-boding fire;
And in the ensuing chaos I’ll name
all those evils which thou shalt encounter,
The worst being that thy name breeds,
So thou shalt not be singled out for blame.
My love is as dear as thy blood,
And as thy name doth exceed the earth’s inundation,
My love is as the ocean displaces thee;
O no, never mind, never fear, thy love is still:
My love is as thy heart in the ocean displaces thee;
O no, never mind, never mind! my love is still
Lending still constant and constant love:
my reason my reason no reason renews.
By this, Adonis began to scratch her
Like old men who never see their sons grow;
By this, Collatine began to scratch her;
As fools, she for aye was troubled;
For he, as fools, withal she would relent;
Her eyes, like cherubins in summer,
Dance like cherubins in winter’s heat,
Who like cherubins in summer their light shine.
‘Then was she with me when the Trojan wolf
Inched his huge appetite by feeding on my cheek;
Then being trodden on, I straightway began
To bow before his image, to show thee fair,
And to show thee false Fortune’s face, to beguile thee:
But the wolf, angry with his prey, would not stand,
For to his prey’ eye did the prey catch.
‘Yet are they not gods, but servants to thy will,
That in me they teach thee

======== CHECKPOINT 048 OUTPUT # 002 ========

pass more to the chase of her fears.
‘O, that thy sweet virtue may so delight me,
In deeds thou art so kind and so kind-hearted,
That through my deeds shouldst thou see thy woe,
That all my offences, o’erworn, are well blest,
And yet still the scars of time will stand on thee,
When all my offences should once again stain,
O how hast thou made mine a place of shame,
And now my soul doth all but steal my treasure,
And by my fair self shalt thou go free.
‘Fair sun,’ quoth she, ‘it doth shine in the west,
And I will not disdain it, for it doth grace
all those bright gems in thy face
Which are mine only treasure to mine eyes,
For all my offences and abuses am met with loss,
And mine eyes for that which they see lack,
For each one mine eye’s true shame doth live,
And mine eye for that which doth deny doth lose,
And mine eye doth be the fair sun doth give:
For that which doth but dwell upon me doth live,
Nor me for that which doth neither sit nor breath.
Thus shall my body’s glory stand in doubt,
As that of a deified goddess,
Resembling that divine right,
That makes every good work a god forbid.
‘This said, Collatine, ‘I have not scorned thee here,
Because thou art my equal here;
The fault lies with thee that thou shouldst trespass on me.’
‘But be it lawful for thine eye to view
The guilty party’s ill,
That thy poor eye might behold the guilty party!’
‘Poor eye,’ quoth she, ‘if it behold my ill,
Thy ill will not be amiss, my poor soul will be troubled.’
‘But why should a man love a wife ill?
Is it for fear that he should be impanelled?
Or is it for fear of him being ill?
For why should a woman be the better slave?
And why should she suffer the abuse of a husband?
O lest her ill state with husband’s strife prove too long,
Or that his life be barren, and her health be dull?
‘If he survive, what sorrow can his welfare require
To sell his body for a lawful death?
if so, then my death shall forfeit thee
Love lost, love alive, now ‘gainst love lost
Is lost in love’s shadow, still to die.
And yet love’s shadow will stay in her when it doth grow,
As if from out of pity it should have,
In the conquest of another’s grief;
For no love that seems so was in me before.
O no, love hath no name, but thou hast no name,
And thou art not my friend unless thou dost name me again,
As in the name of such a thing.
‘I do not love thee,’ quoth she, ‘not in the least,
Nor by my side do I not, in hope, believe
Thy sweet spite to those unkind bastards that hate thee.
‘So then he stops, and bids her catch her eye;
‘Let me be cross’d with my mistress; that thou mayst not cross
My lips, lips to my heart, in that which thou art bound.
thou art the fairest in this all-hurting show,
thou wast our fair dearer, than thou art now,
Thou hast done what is not so;
Thou art the fairest by what we owe thee.
‘But now I behold a boar, full of fear,
Catching his prey in its tail,
Whose motion he strikes with his hard paws,
Whose downward eye her heart upon his cheek encloses.
“Fie, fie,” he cries, “no more, no more!”
And then she drops her head on his neck,
like a dying man, there appears
A face quite dead and ghastly, with gore on it;
Which looks quite silly to men,
And vulgar to women; so with her she speaks,
Swelling her body and her soul,
Till she says her woes to the Siren still:
‘Fie, fie, I did summon thee to my aid,
And thou hast stol’n to my assistance too,
To show my pity-pleading neck
With thy painted woes and thy painted woes’s rhyme,
To beg the grace of thy loving eyes!
Whose love of beauty hath done him good to grace,
Who by him in such an act doth so much delight,
That the thought of him well pleased
frighteth his foes

======== CHECKPOINT 048 OUTPUT # 003 ========

aminer with his face, and eyes, and legs,
But with the outward part of his body,
Like a fowl sleeping, but with the eye
It seems to the eye his shape is new:
Then how shall he think that there is another?
O then be wary when the morning is so light,
And do not say, “Oh my god, I am old,”
For fear of false alarms, or shadows lurking,
If a messenger should come to my lord say,
‘Ay me! how can those woes then be brought to end?
O no, it will not be thy fault;
for love of love did dispense the deed,
For love’s love doth dispense the deed,
Which in the act dispense it doth dispatch.
So thou, my love, being dead,
Will not dispense thy rest for my sake,
And die with thee without being reprobate,
Even in the presence of my lord, mine own sweet.
The first time he saw her, he was as dumb,
As thieves are when they steal thine sweet possession,
Yet love did dispense her rest,
So thou, my love, do thy part
To love’s breach with him still relenting,
And live, for thy sake, in his grave.
‘Then was the bawd that made my sweet boy come
To her aid, and found her trembling,
And taught them all the most precious lesson:
So do I at present, with living terror
mock what was before done,
And view all things new, seeming old.
O how she hath with her many aversions contending,
How often she murders and ravish’d,
ose a tongue, and a mind no respect hearing;
How often she abuses physic, yet canst not cure;
How often she abuses physic with tears, yet canst not cure;
O where is love’s sweetest ornament when all is lost?
What dost thou hast lost, that thou shalt find anew?
What treasure thou hast not in thy being fled,
Whose possession thou best craves still, still more seeks;
O that which thou dost not possess thou must not covet,
For thou shalt not let that steal away,
For thou art so fond of stealing, that thou break’st not thy will,
To break the tie of love, which thou mustst swear,
Or else be revenged on my swearing,
Or else be a plenitude of slander.
O if my self-love were my self,
Like him that I was, and he me, still did accuse,
And every thing but mine was suspect;
And, lo, my self, having been with thee for one,
Was my self slain, my self reprehended,
And, lo, my self restored to life,
And restored to life again my self dead,
And living again in me again restored.”
The black cloud that bears her out-runs every light,
Even that stern celestial whose glowing face shines so!
And, blushing, still her eyes unfold,
To her amaz’d eye what is in them so fixed!
So many sorrow’st lines are seen there,
With sorrow’s tears, and all the rest doth follow.
What should one say of another’s woes,
To say this unhappy she hath wrought?
O what could be more false then true then true say?
ose lips are white as snow, and their tears are pale;
Yet on her lip their reds and the white
Shape of her blood do seem white, as snow melt