Full Log #3

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

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

ifer. “There is no way to explain how this could be done,” he said.

The idea is that there is a way to create a more sensitive kind of neural network — one that would allow for better mapping of neurons in the brain, for example.

The research came at the same time as Google’s effort to develop a better model of the brain to see what it does under certain conditions, but the search giant is still looking for the right brain architecture to help better understand how the brain works.

The study was led by Dr. Stephen J. Clements, an assistant professor in the Institute for Neurotechnology at Brown University, and colleagues.


======== CHECKPOINT 001 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Texture of the entire series (except the ones mentioned).

In addition, the main issue was getting the whole cast together. It was a bit of an issue on the one hand because all three actors are on opposite sides of the fence with the most important players involved. On the other hand, there was the fact that the whole scene is set in the world of the character, and they have some kind of’mechanical’ effect to it. They may want to make sure there is an explanation behind everything that happens, but the actual situation is totally different. It also makes it harder for the fans to make a real impression on the characters, especially because it makes them look like they’re in an alternate universe.

Even though we didn’t find much evidence, we have found several characters that have some sort of psychological or emotional impact on the character. In fact, most of the character’s relationship is completely different than with their main villain. There are two of them, but there is no “mechanical” affect at all. There is an emotional impact that is very apparent, and very physical, as well.

With the main cast in mind, our team decided to include them in the ending of the game. We had been talking about the ending of the game for a while but it seemed like there wasn’t much left to do. So, we decided to give them the opportunity to go through their own version of the “final showdown”.

There’s a story about a young woman who falls in love with a beautiful man and when she’s found by him she meets a beautiful man who is very sad about the end of her life. And then there’s another story about a young man who decides to marry a beautiful woman and he is so happy that he takes off his clothes to find her. The ending of the game will introduce you to one of the themes of the story, The Way the Man Stole Beauty, but this may be the main story.

You might ask if we felt there wasn’t enough room for us to have a full story in the ending? Yes! There will be a lot of surprises and endings throughout the game. I am happy to say that the team made a lot of progress and I would like to share the story of the game with you in the future. It’s going to be more than a short story. It is still very exciting to find out exactly what the next few years will bring for the series.

There is a lot of talk going on about this ending of the game, and there is talk about how it will change the way you feel about the story. We have been talking a lot about what this game will be like before and about the story it will lead to. It’s exciting for us to give this story more hope. I want to give you a great feeling about what the future holds for the series.

I would love to hear from you all if you like this story. I have had a lot of questions about the future of the game and I’m hoping to answer some of them in the coming weeks.

The first question will be on how you will go about finishing the story. In the end, I don’t know, but there’s a lot of work being done to prepare. After all, the whole story is just a part of the game, it’s just a part of the process. You’re going to find your own ways of doing things with this game in the coming weeks.


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

HDMI a.V. And, with a touch screen to be released soon, it’s already a good idea to try out some of this new firmware in your system. You can also try out some of the older firmware, so that you have plenty of power to make the most of the new features.


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

bows the right way, the next time you turn the page, you’re going to need to make a few adjustments.


I have to admit it, I’ve spent a lot of my time on a lot of things over the years. I’ve bought into how hard it is to read the book. For one thing, that is very limiting to what I do. I’ve found I do the same things with a Kindle Fire when I want to read a book but there are still times when I wish I could just get out and read it. That is, to say that it’s boring. For the rest of my life, I have enjoyed reading and it is a little hard for me to be immersed in reading at that time. I love books and I am grateful I have read them. I know it may be difficult to tell exactly what my emotions are when I am in this book, but I do feel a good amount of relief when I get it right, when I find myself enjoying my experience.


The reason for this is not to say the book sucks, I’m just saying it is one hell of a big deal. I was really hoping I’d find it. But when you read the book in person, the feeling feels a lot more like a dream, a dream I was really hoping I wouldn’t get. It was a real challenge, I had to get it to my heart’s content. After so many weeks of looking around to find out what book I was talking about, I was happy to finally find a book that would give me some comfort and allow me to read through it. I love reading books, the one in my life I can finally read, the one I will get to know while I’m out on the town. If only I could. It is a really, really good read for the most part and it will leave me feeling better for the rest of my life.


I’m still looking forward to reading the book, as it will be a nice change from the way my life is. I hope I’ve found something new to enjoy. But I am so very grateful for the opportunity to read the book and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I do. I will find a way to enjoy reading the book while I can.


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

benz

It is important to be aware of these risks, and to carefully monitor your intake of these toxins (see “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”, “What Is a ‘Clean’ Beer?”,


======== CHECKPOINT 002 OUTPUT # 001 ========

311, 754, 935, 1175, 1445, 1449, 1544, 1640, and 1712, respectively. See the corresponding table below.

2. The following table is to be used only in conjunction with the other, as follows:

The number of columns corresponding to the “dots” on the index of the table

The number of columns corresponding to the “dots” on the index of the table

(i) Columns which appear in the Table 4 above (and in Table 5 above) are labeled “C”, “J”, “E”, and “I” (for reference).

Table 3. Table 3. Table 3. Table 3. Table 3.

For this purpose, we shall treat columns of the same form in the Tables 4 & 5, and the following Table 4 shows the numbers of columns corresponding to the names of the columns of the other columns of the table.

Table 4. Table 4. Table 4. Table 4. Table 4.

We shall also count the number of spaces, as if the number of spaces of a number of rows (the space for which the column name is not found) were the same as those of the other columns of the table. For example, if each of the columns of Table 1 are shown as four columns, this would result in an empty column with a space, and this would be the value of each column of Table 4.

TABLE 4. Table 4. Table 4. Table 4.

The “C” columns represent the number of characters in the column and indicate the row number of the column. The “J” columns are the number of characters to be seen from each of the columns and indicate the row number of the column.

TABLE 5. Table 5. Table 5. Table 5. Table 5.

Table 6. Table 6. Table 6. Table 6.

We shall then count the number of spaces in the columns of the other columns, as if each of the column names and the columns of Table 6 were the same as those of the other columns.

TABLE 6. Table 6. Table 6. Table 6.

For example, if the first three columns of Table 6 are shown as one column, we may say that the first two of these three columns are the same, while the other three columns are the same. The first three columns are the same for all five columns of the table, for the remainder, the first column of the column and the third column are the same. Table 6. Table 6. Table 6. Table 6.

These tables may contain additional information, for example, about the number of different character sets on the left, or about the order of characters in which different characters of a type are found. The first two columns of Table 6 may be numbered in the order of the other three columns. The fourth column of Table 6 may be numbered in the order of the third column.

TABLE 7. Table 7. Table 7. Table 7.

Table 8. Table 8. Table 8. Table 8. Table 8.

The column names in Table 8 (a) and Table 8 (b) may be as in Table 5. For the purpose of this discussion, we have assigned the first column names of each column of Table 8 a position of zero. The last column names may be as in Table 7. In order to be consistent with the use of this table, all columns of the table containing the same form should be numbered in the order as in Table 7.

Table 9. Table 9. Table 9. Table 9.

This table must be the last in its section, and it may contain only column names (other than column names for which the column names do not appear in the table) if it has not already been divided in half.

TABLE 10. Table 10. Table 10. Table 10.

Note 1. This table contains two of the tables in Table 10. The “C” columns, and the column names of the columns of Table 10 are displayed in the form of row numbers, in order from first to last. The last column names are in order of the column names of the other columns. The first column names are the number of characters to be seen from each of the three columns of Table 10. For instance, if, instead of the name “C”, “J”, “E”, and “I” appear in the following table, we may say that the column names of each of the three columns (as shown on the left) and the column names of the columns of Table 10 are identical. The first column names are all “C”, while the column names of each column are all “J”. The last column names are all “E”. See Table 10. Note 2. The “J” column names are as above in Table 10; for instance, the “C” column names are as above in Table


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

gravy as this is a real treat.

6. A new, improved, refined type of onion

The classic onion. And it tastes better.

6. A fresh, aged, fresh onion

No longer a “bad” type, but just like the original, you won’t have to worry about overcooking the onion every time it is used.

7. A new and better kind of chili pepper

What would a good chili pepper be like? Well, I think it’s better than this.

8. A more traditional kind of onion

The most familiar. But more exotic!

9. A new kind of onion

And more exotic!

10. A new kind of chili pepper

The biggest thing I found in this one.

11. An improved variety

Now you can make something that is different from a classic. And that’s a big deal. And that’s a big deal.

12. A more traditional kind of onion

The biggest thing I found in this one.

13. A better variety

Now you can make something that is different from a classic. And that’s a big deal. And that’s a big deal.

14. A more traditional type of onion

Now you can make something that is different from a classic. And that’s a big deal. And that’s a big deal.

15. A more traditional, more exotic chili pepper

This is a really good chili pepper, as is the original. Now you know how to make it.

16. A better variety

Now you can make something that is different from a classic. And that’s a big deal. And that’s a big deal.

17. A different kind of chili pepper

Now you can make something that is different from a classic. And that’s a big deal. And that’s a big deal.

18. A different kind of chili pepper

Now you can make something that is different from a classic. And that’s a big deal. And that’s a big deal.

19. A different sort of chili pepper

Now you can make something that is different from a classic. And that’s a big deal. And that’s a big deal.

20. A new kind of chili pepper

Now you can make something that is different from a classic. And that’s a big deal. And that’s a big deal.

21. A new kind of chili pepper

Now you can make something that is different from a classic. And that’s a big deal. And that’s a big deal.

22. A new kind of chili pepper

Now you can make something that is different from a classic. And that’s a big deal. And that’s a big deal.

23. A new variety

Now you can make something that is different from a classic. And that’s a big deal. And that’s a big deal.

24. A new variety

Now you can make something that is different from a classic. And that’s a big deal. And that’s a big deal.

25. A new variety

Now you can make something that is different from a classic. And that’s a big deal. And that’s a big deal.

26. A new variety

Now you can make something that is different from a classic. And that’s a big deal. And that’s a big deal.

27. A new variety

Now you can make something that is different from a classic. And that’s a big deal. And that’s a big deal.

28. A new variety

Now you can make something that is different from a classic. And that’s a big deal. And that’s a big deal.

29. A new variety

Now you can make something that is different from a classic. And that’s a big deal. And that’s a big deal.

30. A new variety

Now you can make something that is different from a classic. And that’s a big deal. And that’s a big deal.

31. A new variety

Now you can make something that is different from a classic. And that’s a big deal. And that’s a big deal.

32. A new variety

Now you can make something that is different from a classic. And that’s a big deal. And that’s a big deal.

33. A new variety

Now you can make something that is different from a classic. And that’s a big deal. And that’s a big deal.

34. A new variety

Now you can make something that is different from a classic. And that’s a big deal. And that’s a big deal.

35. A new variety

Now you


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

ovie for the time being, and he should be the one who does it. He’s a really nice guy, and he’s actually a good guy, and I know that’s not really what this guy wants to do, but he’s not going to be the sort of guy that I want to be in the situation. I just think he’ll do what he needs to do.

And it’s not clear if he’ll make a decision yet, either.

I think that, yes, this will be a very interesting trial period for him. But if he does decide to go forward with it, then I think the most important thing for him and his family and for everybody in this country is that he feels like he’s doing the right thing. He’s not going to leave behind this little kid.

There’s no point in me going to any doctor to tell you that. You don’t have to trust doctors in your family, do you?

I don’t. I want people to think like me. I don’t want them to go through these things like this, and it’s just not right. If I ever make a decision like this, I’ll be there. I’ll be there in a heartbeat. I won’t be there. I’ll get back to my family. I’ll get out of the hospital. I’ll be out of this place.

So, yeah, I think that was the biggest thing for him. But, yeah, if I get too close to the people that matter to me, it’ll probably cost them a lot of time and a lot of time, and I’m not going to be able to go to those people, and I’m not going to go to somebody else to tell them what to do.

I will be there. I won’t be in his life. I’ll have to wait until he’s 100 percent ready to say, OK, this is what he wants to do. If he decides to go to doctors, I think there are going to be huge things in his life. But, it’s gonna take him about a month or two to decide, okay? And that’s really what he’s asking me to do, but he’s going to have to wait until he’s ready to say, “I’ve got that decision to make, okay?” I think that’s what he’s asking me to do.

He’s asking for that kind of time. He’s asking for that kind of commitment and that kind of determination, which will have the most impact, but he’s waiting until he’s ready to say, “I’ve got that decision to make, okay?” And I think that’s the part of this whole process where I have to wait until I have an opportunity to say, “I want to be there. I want to be where I want to be and I want to make this decision.”

If he ever gets to decide on whether or not he wants to leave his children alone for his entire life, that’s a very hard decision to make.

I think that I’ll have a lot of choices to make about what I do and what I say. But I’m not gonna choose that kind of thing. I’m not gonna get into a time where I can’t talk about how great my baby is. I won’t get into a time where I can’t talk about my own emotions. I won’t get into a time where I can’t talk about being sick.

I’ll be in there with my kid. I’ll be in there with my dog. I’ll be in there with my husband, with my boyfriend, with my dog, with my kids. I don’t want any of that. I don’t want that. But I’ll come in, I’ll get there, and it’ll be like this.

So I won’t have any problems.

I’ll be there. I’ll be there in my room with my kid, because I’ll be in there and I’ll watch my kid, I’ll be in there with my dog. Because I’ll see my dog and I’ll see my dog, because I’ll see my dog and I’ll see my dog, because I’ll be there with my kid, because I’ll be there in my room with my kids. I don’t even know what to do. But I’ll be there and I’ll be there in my room with my dog and I’ll see my dog, because I’ll be there in my room with my kids and I’ll watch my kid, because I’ll be there with my kids and I’ll watch my kid, because I’ll be there in my room with my kids and I’ll watch my kid, because I’ll be there in my room with my kids and I’ll watch my kid, because I’ll be there with my kids and I’ll watch my kid, because I’ll be there with my kids and I’ll watch my kid, because I’ll be there with my kids, because I’ll be


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

brands from around the world. The company has also become the world’s first-ever source of free and fair trade information and products, which makes it a unique source of valuable information.

“With an amazing user experience, this gives us confidence that we can continue to deliver the best products to customers,” says Jansen.


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

registered. That’s all.

“I don’t feel guilty, I don’t know how I feel, because I feel I have to help, but if you tell me how you feel I’ll take care of you,” he says. “It’s about how you’ve been, about your life.”

Cheryl believes she should not have to tell her husband of the sexual assault she was allegedly having. She says that if he did, she would have been arrested, but she has tried to talk him out of it. “I feel sorry for him, and I don’t want to be accused of a crime,” she says.

The woman who claims to have seen the video released told the Daily Mail the incident happened shortly before her son was attacked.

According to her, there was no struggle at all during the fight, although a woman from nearby Stirling was able to walk through the doors. The video shows a man pulling her arm out and running to get a drink before taking her to a nearby bar.

The woman told the Daily Mail she thought she saw “a bunch of girls and men running up to me, some of them were girls, some of them were men”.

She added: “I looked over and they were in full view and I was like, ‘What is going on?’

“Then I said, ‘No, that’s it.’ I didn’t know what was going on because I was watching. I didn’t know what was going on.

“But then, ‘What was going on?’ My wife and I went up to her and the girls all got out of the room and were running away from me. I was looking up and it was like they weren’t there, so I just kept looking up. Then I heard a knock on the door and I could see my wife lying face down and my husband was running like crazy. Then I saw this and I’m like, ‘Wow, is this really me?’ My son jumped back and I felt so embarrassed.”

The couple have been married since 2008 and have three children.

In a statement to The Daily Mail, they added: “We believe there were no physical or verbal assaults between us.

“The police, after being alerted by police officers, have since reported it to the Met Police.”


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

unic. (This is the same as it would have been if you were to use “autoexec -u” instead.) The new command has two methods that can be passed as arguments.

( setq -i -x “~@{filename}”) ( setq -l “~@{filename}” ) The filename is an absolute pathname and can be specified in a list of filenames.

( setq -u -p “~{filename}” ) This command changes the filename to the correct one.

( setq -v -e “~@{filename}” ) This command can be used to rename a directory using the suffix “/”

See also the setf command.

The first line shows the current directory structure. You can use any number of directories in this example to see all the files in your path.

This is a shell script which creates and edits the file system. It also changes the behavior of a terminal.

The first line shows how you can run the script, in this case using a shell. It takes one or more arguments: it can be any character, string, or file. (If no argument is given, a list of all lines shown will be returned.)

The output is the format of a string.

The last line shows the name of a directory, with the corresponding filename as a first argument.

The contents of the first file may be read with special care. They can also contain a list of files. This list is then displayed with the following form:

( format “~@{filename}~/ “

~@{filename}

~@{filename}

~@{filename}

~@{filename} ” ( setq $filename) To display the contents of the file, it is converted to a string by taking the format (i.e. ‘~@{filename}~/’) followed by the path to the file. The default value is ‘~@{filename}’. The next two lines display the contents of the file. You can set the options by defining them in their respective values, and can override them with the -f option.

When the value of the command is non-nil, the file is opened. The default behavior is the directory with all the changes made to it.

This command only takes the contents of the directory, so you can’t edit it without modifying the file system itself. (You can also run it with:

( setq $dirs) This command will take the values from the filename variable and make changes to it with the same logic.

If any of the arguments do not match, it will be removed from the command.

You can override default values of the command with:

( setq -e “~@{filename}~/” )

( setq $filename) to set an existing file

If the -f option is given, all files will be automatically opened and all changes made to them, but changes made to the directory will only be made to directories outside of the current directory and to new files. In the current mode, there is no current directory, but any new files will be opened at any point outside the current directory.

( setq $dirs) This is equivalent to:

( setq $dirs) -f

To override the default behavior, you can also give your own option. See the list of defaults to be given in the setq command.

( setq -l “~@{filename}~/” )

This commands will open the file system for reading, writing, and editing, as well as create and delete directories, directories, and files within the specified list.

The file system has a list of all the available options.

See the list of available options below.

( setq $verbose -e “~@{filename}~/” )

To run this command, the value of the current option is printed on the screen. If the current option is non-nil, the window will be closed. If it is non-nil, then no arguments are given.

If the argument is omitted, the current option is not used.

( setq -e “~@{filename}~/” )

( setq $verbose -e “~@{filename}~/” )

( setq $verbose -e “~@{filename}~/” )

( setq $verbose -e “~@{filename}~/” )

( setq $verbose -e “~@{filename}~/” )

( setq $verbose -e “~@{filename}~/” )

( setq $verbose –


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

reverber on the world for years with every word and gesture.

In fact, when I looked at this from afar, it sounded like a real-life, all-time classic. I’d never seen it before, and I could hardly believe it was coming from any other person. But the thing with the real-life classic of this movie, it made perfect sense. You have to be as aware of the movie’s story as you are of its words. For that reason, if you don’t read the script, you will not be impressed.

There are many other movie adaptations of this classic, from the “Lost”, “A Boy and His Lover”, and other classics, to even more beloved characters and themes, but, like the movie itself, none of them were as good as the one from the first movie.

“Sneak Attack” has made more money than “The Legend of the Three Kings” and “Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone” combined (see “Gentlemen’s List”, below), but the quality of “Sneak Attack” is just as good.


“Mystery of the Sword and Swordman” is a better thriller than the other movies, but in terms of quality and style, it is more expensive than the other movies.

Sneak Attack is still the best movie in history.

You have to wonder if the rest of your budget was due to this or that other movie.

In fact, the original film was made by James Dolan, who was a producer on “Fringe”, and directed “Gossip Girl” and other “Fringe” films.

In his very first work for Fringe, Dolan’s original film was actually made by Dolan himself.

In other words, the only movie Dolan ever did for the first time was a remake of the original movie. Dolan would like you to think he did it all on his own. If you’re a fan of a good remake, you might be disappointed, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was done by him. Dolan would never have made another film on the same budget as his first, and it would probably have been better if he made a follow-up.

For Dolan, this is a great movie. It’s pretty easy to get into because there are no lines or words and all the action is pretty much in the background. It’s about the real story of a knight knight, a true knight who has been exiled from his home by a mysterious group of magical wizards, and who can be a part of his friends.

If it were to be made by one man and done by one director, it would be an amazing film.

Sneak Attack is more about the character’s journey, of the journey from hero to villain. It’s a story of real people, real world villains, real people who do real things. It takes place in the fantasy world of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, a world where magic is the norm in the world, but in the fantasy world, in reality it’s different.

This is what happens when you cross the “magic” line of magic with the real world. You are there when you have magic and don’t know it, but you are always there.

Dolan says that while it’s true that most of the action took place in a small, small studio in the USA, he’s not making the movie in the USA. He’s making it in the USA to make something he has to sell. He was very busy in “Fringe” with this movie and it made him happy.

It was about the story of a knight who travels to England in search of a magic potion. He meets a mysterious man who seems to be a friend of his and they have a romantic interest, and after he defeats a magical girl, he travels to England to try to save his friend.

The next time you watch a film like this, remember the moment you had the first time you were in England. This is the one scene in your life where you see the whole world in a single image.

You want to see that.

So, let’s see it in action!

Sneak Attack opens in theaters on September 25th, 2014 at 12pm on Netflix.

Source: Yahoo Movies

Photo Credit: Yahoo Movies


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

435.2 million per year, which is higher than all other OECD countries in terms of population. The United States also experienced a record $3 billion in income in 2011-2012 – an increase of 5.7 percent from 2011 levels. The number of Americans who live with their parents also increased. Overall, households were able to add 1.1 million to their combined annual income from labor (2.3 million per year) in 2010 – an increase of 4.6 percent from 2011. The top 10 percent of earners saw a 7.7 percent increase in income between 2010 and 2011, and top 100 companies saw a 3.9 percent increase in income between 2010 and 2011.

The United States is a world leader in developing industrial robots, and the nation now employs more workers than any other nation in the world, with the employment numbers of all 40 member states rising by 16.6 percent.

According to figures released last week by the OECD, an estimated 2.3 million jobs have been created in the United States in the last five years – an increase of 1.1 million from 2010. This represents a 30 percent increase over 2008 and an increase of 2.7 million over 2010.

More than 20 nations have joined the World Trade Organization to develop trade liberalisation tools, with a number in the USA (3,000 workers) and Canada (4,000 workers) being the most effective recipients, according to the OECD.

Related posts:

Income of Workers in the United States and Canada

China’s economic growth will not come soon enough: China’s new government

This video explains why it’s time to start investing in infrastructure in the United States


======== CHECKPOINT 003 OUTPUT # 004 ========

-Sized-Sized-B-O-Cute-O.jpg

This is what we will see when we have a bit more information on the “stolen” part of our name!


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

ATK.


Level 10 Weapon


The Heavy Strike


Level 5 Bow


The Quick-Fix


Level 10 Shield

move speed bonus (1.5)

no ammo while active (1)


( Not Tradable or Marketable )


The Storm Spirit


Level 5 Stickybomb Launcher

fire rate penalty (1.8)


The Soda Popper


Level 1 Lunch Box

add uber charge on hit (0.8)

fire rate penalty (1.2)


The Man in the Iron Mask


Level 5 Mask

add uber charge on hit (0.8)

clip size penalty (0.66)


The Huntsman


Level 5 Laser Pointer


The Beggar’s Bazooka


Level 5 Rod


The Quick-Fix


Level 10 Shield

damage bonus (1.2)

single wep holster time increased (1.3)


The Quick-Fix


Level 10 Shield

heal on kill (35)

lose revenge crits on death DISPLAY ONLY (1)


The Aztec Flaming Lasso


Level 5 Sword


The B.A.T.K.A.S.


Level 10 Shotgun


The Momma’s Stogie


Level 1 Stogie


The Powerjack


Level 5 Mascot


The Skull Islandman


Level 10 Hat

attach particle effect static (28)


The Wrap Assassin


Level 1


The Axtinguisher


Level 10 Sword


The Enforcer


Level 10 Hat

mult charge turn control (2)

no ammo while active (1)

maxammo primary increased (1.25)

fire rate penalty (1.2)


The Sandvich Safe


Level 5 Lunch Box

mod invis cloak on hit (1)

increased jump height from 2.5 to 3.25 (1.25)


The Hitman’s Heatmaker


Level 1 Sniper Rifle

minicrit vs burning player (1)

maxammo primary reduced (0.5)

revolver use hit locations (1)

mult cloak meter consume rate (1.25)

damage penalty (0.85)


The Iron Companion


Level 10 Boxing Gloves

add cloak on hit (0.75)

fire rate penalty (1.2)


The Scattergun


Level 1 SMG

maxammo primary reduced (0.5)

revolver use hit locations (1)

damage penalty (0.85)


The Cold Snap Bite


Level 5 Lunch Box

mod no reload DISPLAY ONLY (1)


The Cold Snap Bite


Level 5 Lunch Box

mod no reload DISPLAY ONLY (1)


The Backwards Uppercut


Level 10 Sword

override projectile type (18)

damage penalty (0.85)


The Snag Snack


Level 5 Lunch Box

mod mini-crit airborne (1)

crit mod disabled (0)

health on radius damage (50)


The Whistle


Level 5 Bottle

mod mini-crit airborne (1)

crit mod disabled (0)

dmg taken from fire reduced (0.25)


The Eureka Effect


Level 1 – 100 Flame Thrower

override projectile type (18)

Projectile speed increased (1.25)

damage penalty (0.75)


The Vita-Pistol


Level 1 Pistol

crit vs burning player (1)

fire rate penalty (1.2)


The Direct Hit


Level 1 Minigun

single wep holster time increased (1.25)

dmg taken from fire reduced (0.35)


The Scattergun


Level 5 Sniper Rifle

dmg taken from blast reduced (0.8)

dmg taken from fire reduced (0.65)


The Flare Gun


Level 5 Rocket Launcher

minicrit vs burning player (1)

maxammo primary increased (1.5)

revolver use hit locations (1)

damage penalty (0.85)


The Sandvich Safe


Level 5 Lunch Box

mod invis cloak on hit (1)

increased jump height from 2.5 to 3.25 (1.25)


The Conquistador


Level 5 Scarf

item show detail on shopfront (1)


( Not Tradable or Marketable )


The Gourmand


Level


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

083 the amount for each one that was paid.

To be in good standing with the state or federal government, the applicant must submit to a minimum of 60 hours of service at least 24 hours a week.

(3) A person must submit to the State or federal government, or a government agency, for any reason, including but not limited to, a violation of the laws of another state or another place of residence, violation of the provisions of an act of Congress or a provision of law, a crime of violence, a violation of a statute, or an act of a foreign government or a foreign power.

(d) All persons and places who have, or who may have, any or all of the following:

(1) A lawful and uniform license to operate or be operated in the jurisdiction of another state or another place of residence

(2) A valid driver’s license and permit in the state where the licensee operates, or may be operated, in, the jurisdiction of the owner of the license, unless the licensee provides proof of his or her lawful license.

(3) A valid passport issued under the jurisdiction of another state or another place of residence.

(4) A valid driver’s license issued under the jurisdiction of another state or another place of residence, issued or obtained by him or her with intent to be licensed under the laws of another state or another place of residence.

(5) An illegal alien,

(i) who has been convicted of a crime of violence by a State or a federal court, or who has been unlawfully arrested by a State or an international court, or who is an illegal alien, and who has been held for less than five years under the laws of another State or a foreign place of residence, but is not a criminal alien and who is lawfully admitted to another state or foreign place of residence, but does not hold a valid driver’s license under the laws of another state or a foreign place of residence for less than five years.

(ii) who is under age 13, has not been convicted of a felony, or has a previous conviction for the same offense or another offense to which he or she is entitled.

(e) A person, whether or not that person is a lawful citizen of the United States of America or of a foreign country, who is in possession of any firearm or ammunition other than those listed in subsection (c) and who is not otherwise qualified to possess a handgun, shotgun, or other semiautomatic firearm of a type set forth in this section and who is not otherwise licensed or otherwise registered to carry a handgun or ammunition of a type set forth in this section.

(f) (1) A person or other person, in charge of a vehicle, whether or not that person is a lawful citizen of the United States or of a foreign country, who is in possession of any handgun or ammunition other than those listed in subsection (c) and who is not otherwise qualified to possess a handgun, shotgun, or other semiautomatic firearm of a type set forth in this section and who is not otherwise licensed or otherwise registered to carry a handgun, shotgun, or other semiautomatic firearm of a type set forth in this section.

(2) A person, whether or not that person is a lawful citizen of the United States or of a foreign country, who is in possession of any handgun, shotgun, or other semiautomatic firearm of a type set forth in this section and who is not otherwise qualified to possess a handgun, shotgun, or other semiautomatic firearm of a type set forth in this section.

(3) (a) (I) a person who, by reason of a misdemeanor, commits a felony of the first degree; (II) a person who commits a felony of the second degree; or (III) a person who has willfully caused injury or destruction to a vehicle of the same owner.

(b) (1) A person who, after taking or having taken the course of a course prescribed by the provisions of this chapter, is prohibited by this chapter from carrying a handgun, shotgun, or other semiautomatic firearm on a highway, highway, or other public place, or if the person’s person is subject to any other traffic violation as a consequence of such course, for a period not exceeding ninety days from the date of the occurrence, shall immediately cease to carry a handgun, shotgun, or other semiautomatic firearm with the intent to prevent any of the following persons from possessing any handgun, shotgun, or other semiautomatic firearm:

(A) An individual who has been convicted of a crime of violence by a State or a federal court, or who has been unlawfully arrested by a State or an international court, or who is a person who is subject to any other traffic violation as a consequence of such course;

(B) An individual who is subject to any other traffic violation as


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

X.4 (Firmware version 5.0)

[X.4] Fixed a bug where the new OpenGL support did not show up for some applications, and fixed some crashes

[X.5]

[X.5] Fixed a bug where the ‘OpenGL_3.1.2.dll’ failed to download some packages due to missing versions

[X.5] Fixed a bug where the ‘OpenGL_4.1.1.dll’ could not load the game when it was already installed, due to missing installation details

[X.6]

[X.6] The game can now detect which DirectX 7 support is being used in your computer

[X.7] Fixed a bug where the player couldn’t be detected as having been installed from the wrong location

[X.8] The mouse cursor now always moves up while switching between different types of mouse clicks

[X.8] Fixed a bug where the ‘Safari’ command line option would cause the game to crash

[X.8] Fixed a bug where the game would not update to the latest version of X.8

[X.9] Fixed the sound effect of the game crashing when using the ‘Get-QMenu’.

[X.9] Fixed a bug where a player could not use the ‘Safari’ command line option

[X.9] Fixed a bug where the sound effects would not be played when using the ‘Get-QMenu’.

[X.9] Fixed the game crash when using the ‘Set-QMenu’.

[X.9] Fixed the mouse crash when using ‘Get-QMenu’.

[X.9] Fixed a bug where the ‘Get-QMenu’ command line option did not display the current position when loading the game

[X.9] Fixed a bug where the game would freeze if you didn’t have the latest game

[X.10] Fixed a bug where the ‘OpenGL_3.1.1.dll’ would not be updated when installed in your computer

[X.10] Fixed a bug where certain games would sometimes not display properly when using a ‘Close all open games’ button

[X.11] Fixed a bug where if a game is restarted after loading it, you can’t start it again

[X.11] Fixed a bug where using a menu button would cause the game to crash when clicking the mouse

[X.12]

[X.12] Fixed a bug where the ‘OpenGL_3.1.2.dll’ wouldn’t load properly when installed

[X.12] Fixed a bug where the ‘OpenGL_4.1.1.dll’ would not work properly if installed in a system environment

[X.13] Fixed a bug where X.X would crash if you tried to start a game in an X11 X server

[X.14] Fixed a bug where X.X would crash when loading a saved file in a game

[X.14] Fixed a bug where X.X would crash when trying to start a game in a game engine using an X11 X server

[X.15] Fixed a bug where using a mouse cursor would cause X Window to stop running

[X.15] Fixed a bug where a ‘Resume all open games’ button would make the game crash when restarting

[X.16] Fixed a bug where the game would crash when using ‘Close all open games’ button

[X.16] Fixed a bug where if an ‘OpenGL_3.1.2.dll’ was used to open a game in an X11 X server

[X.17] Fixed a bug where the ‘OpenGL_4.1.1.dll’ would not load properly when installed in your computer

[X.17] Fixed a bug where a ‘OpenGL_4.1.1.dll’ wouldn’t work properly if installed in a system environment

[X.18] Fixed a bug where ‘openGL_4.1.1.dll’ would not display in certain OpenGL programs

[X.18] Fixed a bug where X.X would crash when you tried to start a game in an X11 X server

[X.19] Fixed a bug where the game would crash if you tried to start a game in an X11 X server

[X.19] Fixed a bug where X.X would crash when loading a saved game in a game engine using an X11 X server

[X.20] Fixed a bug where X.X would crash when trying to load a saved game in a game engine using an X11 X server

[X.20] Fixed a bug where the


======== CHECKPOINT 004 OUTPUT # 003 ========

accounting and accounting measures to report on a variety of financial statements that are not publicly reported to the public, and to provide information about changes or changes to those financial statements.

The financial statements are available at financial.com.

The financial statements are prepared in accordance with Section 11 of the Securities Exchange Act of 1934, as amended (the “Exchange Act”), and are intended to provide a means for managing and analyzing financial information in accordance with Section 12(b) of the Securities Exchange Act of 1934. Accordingly, these financial statements are not necessarily complete or complete as of the date of these amendments. In addition, the financial statements contain additional information about any changes in accounting procedures, changes in legislation, changes in the market for securities, and other matters that may not be disclosed to investors or to the public in the following manner:

Management’s Annual Report on Form 10-K for the Years Ended June 30, 2011 and 2010.

. The financial statements may not be complete.

The statements on the Consolidated Balance Sheet of the S&P 500 are not comprehensive and contain adjustments, changes, changes in amounts and changes in expected revenues or losses.

The information that the financial statements provide is not generally available, and is not subject to change.

The information in the financial statements is generally not available from time to time during the three years ended June 30, 2011 and 2010 and, for the years ended June 30, 2010, it is not necessarily available to the public in the financial statements.

A summary of the financial statements may be obtained from the following source:

Management’s Annual Report on Form 10-K for the Years Ended June 30, 2011 and 2010 and

The Financial Statements for the Years Ended June 30, 2011 and 2010 are available at

the Financial Statement

and the Financial Statements for the Years Ended June 30, 2011 and 2010 are available at

the Securities Exchange Act of 1934, as amended (the “Securities Exchange Act”), and their respective exhibits to the Securities and Exchange Commission are incorporated herein by reference.

For the years ended June 30, 2011 and 2010, the reports included in the Annual Report on Form 10-K for the S&P 500 are available at

the Securities and Exchange Commission

incorporated in the Federal Register of New York, as amended, and other public records.

See “Management’s Discussion and Analysis of Financial Condition and Results of Operations” for further information.

F-15

THE NET SALARY OF THE S&P 500

THE following table sets forth the gross profit, or net operating loss, of the S&P 500 for the three years ended June 30, 2011 and 2010:

Year Ended June 30, 2011 2011 2010 Gross profit $ 2,921 $ 2,921 Adjusted profit 873 913 Adjusted profit (loss) of $ 858 $ 858 Total consolidated revenues (loss) $ 1,532 $ 1,532

During the three years ended June 30, 2011, the net revenues of the S&P 500 were $1,818 million and $1,834 million, respectively. However, the net revenues (loss) of the S&P 500 during the three years ended June 30, 2010 were $1,828 million and $1,820 million, respectively.

During the three years ended June 30, 2011, the total net revenues (loss) of the S&P 500 during the three years ended June 30, 2011 were $1,633 million and $1,738 million, respectively. However, the net revenues (loss) of the S&P 500 during the three years ended June 30, 2010 were $1,724 million and $1,734 million, respectively.

During the three years ended June 30, 2011, the net revenues of the S&P 500 during the three years ended June 30, 2011 were $2,742 million and $2,779 million, respectively. However, the net revenues (loss) of the S&P 500 during the three years ended June 30, 2010 were $2,097 million and $2,847 million, respectively.

In the three years ended June 30, 2010, the net revenues (loss) of the S&P 500 during the three years ended June 30, 2011 were $2,111 million and $2,176 million, respectively. However, the net revenues (loss) of the S&P 500 during the three years ended June 30, 2010 were $2,075 million and $2,097 million, respectively.

During the three years ended June 30, 2011, the net revenues (loss) of the S&P 500 during the three years ended June 30, 2011 were $2,097 million and $2,734 million, respectively. However, the net revenues (loss) of the S&P 500 during the three years ended


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

ュ. It has been suggested that an alternative approach is to use a traditional “dipstone,” where the water flows over the surface and comes back to the water through a deep subcontinent reservoir. This would allow for the use of highly efficient hydrocarbons in the future to be used. However, the idea that all the potential of hydrocarbons comes from a single reservoir has been used as a hoax by some scientists since the 1960s, but the idea that all hydrocarbons come from one reservoir is not a valid scientific position.

The use of fossil fuels has shown to cause substantial changes to ecosystems, and a strong link between the human activities in these areas and the environmental damage caused is becoming increasingly recognized.

Dr. Rene Laval, an ecology specialist at the Université Bordeaux, commented: “The main reason why we have so few natural disasters is because there is no mechanism for maintaining a steady population. We have no food crops and we have to rely on people to feed us. Our ability to produce food is limited to two species of plants, the herbivores and the animals that inhabit our deserts and mountains.”

Dr. Laval added: “The solution is more than that, it is that the world is changing.”

###

###

This article was supported by a grant from the National Institute of Water Resources, the National Science Foundation, the Rheinische Zeitschrift für Erfahrung, and the National Institute for Water Resources.


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

Orange/Flickr/Getty Images

I’m still not quite sure how I feel about the idea of getting married and taking time off to go to church. My mom was an Episcopal missionary, and she loved a good one. I am not sure she thought to take me into church to preach her gospel. I’ve learned that many things in life require some form of spiritual guidance, some sort of spiritual commitment. If you do get married, what are the steps in you spiritual life that you need to take as an example for others to follow your example?

My mom, along with several other Episcopal sisters, had three daughters: Sarah, 4; Leah, 2; and a daughter, Leah, 1. The Church in England had been calling for marriage since the turn of the 20th century, with the great hope that women would be the first to receive it. The reason for this effort was, she said, the fact that they could have one another’s daughters.

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I have long understood how important this relationship is for women. When I was a teen, my mother invited me to a family reunion and asked me to read and sing a hymn for her. The next day, we had dinner. She asked me if I wanted to stay, and I said I had no intention of going. I told her I couldn’t because I felt I had no control over the situation.

But at the time, the church was doing great, so she was eager to get in touch with me. She encouraged me to read the hymn on my birthday as well as my wedding day, and my heart went out to all of them. I asked how they could help me. The answer was simple. If you’re in love with the way things are and have a good attitude toward women, you can be in love with other women too.

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I didn’t believe her, but she did. She took me to the chapel to be baptized. We began the process by making love. The Lord said that we will all have children when we die. We must keep the commandments, and then we must live and be loved. I prayed to the Lord through the help of my sister and husband and sister-in-law that she would find it in her heart to take care of them as their children do. I felt grateful to God for that gift. I knew that the time was now ripe, and that we were ready to move forward.

She taught us how to live according to God’s plan, even as she had never prayed to me. The plan was simple, she told me:

When you are married, give your wife some water;

and when she is at work, say,

“Your wife should clean her eyes before you do.”

Our wife made a point of putting on the veil. The day before she went out to the river, she would run away to her family. She would make a few calls and look for them. They would not notice what she was doing. She would walk with the water.

It was a simple plan. She went and looked at me, and looked at my face. And then I saw what she looked like. I could see a lot of the same beautiful things in my face. It was so beautiful to her that I could not tell her, as if she were the one to tell me.

I prayed over this miracle. But the next morning my daughter took the veil and made an appearance. She had a red light in her eyes and she looked quite like my mother. I thought I was going to be a saint. I was too weak to go out in the world. It was a miracle to say to her, “No, my dear daughter, I love you so much that I would not like to leave you to the world without my blessing.”

I tried to hide my sorrow. She was quite certain that I was wrong. She told me that I had lost a lot of things. I told her that she needed to see her and say, “This is not good. You are not going to go out with me. You are not going to go out with your husband. I am here to care for you and do not want to live like a dog. You should do that.”

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I felt bad that I had made it so far, for God did not give me the best way to live. I was not going to have children by giving the same good money, or by telling my sister and wife that I was not going to let them live their lives. But that was not what she said. She told me how much she meant by her promise. I could not help feeling sorry for her, but I felt relieved.

I was a poor girl. I could have been an excellent priest in my little world. It was not my place to judge others. I had no need of authority. I was not going to be


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

raham, the author of “The Devil’s Bargain” and “How to Be an Atheist,” writes on his website that he believes it is “the true, unalienable right of free speech and expression to express your opinion for all time and for the satisfaction of all who feel it.”

The National Review also says that while the “government may not interfere” with a person’s free speech, it may “prevent such speech by preventing or stopping others from expressing themselves in other ways.”

The first amendment to the U.S. Constitution forbids the government from interfering with the rights of others to express their beliefs. According to the National Review, the “right” of free speech to express oneself is enshrined in the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of the United States of America, as well as the 1790 Fourteenth Amendment.

The National Review also argues that President Obama “should not be the one to decide what is legal and what is not.”

This is the issue that most Americans care about — and the one that the First Amendment is best known for.

Follow Stories Like This Get the Monitor stories you care about delivered to your inbox.

In that view, the right of free speech to express oneself has evolved from a protection for the right to protest to an absolute right for freedom to dissent.

“For those who deny the right to freedom of speech, the concept of the right to ‘express your opinion, in your own words,’ is often associated with the notion of ‘freedom,’ or at least the idea that an individual has the freedom to use his or her words for all eternity,” wrote the author of the recent book “How to Be an Atheist.”


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

Santa. He asked for the last year and a half of his salary to be transferred.

In February this year, a judge ordered the family of Robert and Barbara Pinsker to pay a half-million pounds of compensation to their parents.

The Pinskers are due to receive compensation of £5m this year.

The family claim the Pinskers were the victims of a rape and murder at the age of 13.

Mr Pinsker has admitted raping them in the 1980s but is due to be prosecuted in August.

The family have claimed the Pinskers raped their young daughter at their flat in Milton Keynes.

They have also appealed against the sentence handed down to Mr Pinsker, saying it was cruel.


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

Above’s the face of my brother who’s been missing for nearly two months. He asked me, “What happened?” “A little bit,” I said, “but he was missing for about two weeks.” And he gave me that smile. He looked at me, he said, “That’s my brother. What about you?” “Nothing. I have a little bird named I-man, and I have my wife and children with me. They will see if I give him a good day’s rest.” And I thought he meant to say I love him, because he did that for him. “You can say whatever you want to,” he said, but he did not speak much of it. I felt sorry for him, for I thought he had not loved me well. I thought of my mother, and I thought of my aunt; but I did not say anything of the sort. I told him I wanted to say something, and he said, “I cannot stand the thought of my mother.” I said I was going to write this, and I must get his permission to write, but I will not have it. I want to get my brother’s permission to write and I must have his permission. “How?” “He’s not a good writer. He must tell the story. I don’t want him to write, and I don’t want him to do anything; I mean to tell it in writing, which is a terrible business; when I tell it, I make it so that the reader can see why I want to write; because, though he can see what is in my eyes, he can not see what is not. I write all the time and my eye is drawn to the things which are in my mind. I write, my eyes are drawn to the thing I want to write. I do not know what I want to do when I want to write. I know what I want to write, for I know how to write. But I write, not knowing that I can write.” And now I write as it is written, which is why I have a very small portion of my body. The other part is my face, and my hair is very good. He says, “The eyes are very beautiful, but the brows are small. It makes you quite hard. You can see them, but it can’t help you. I know they are lovely, but I do not like them. They are just that, not that. I am so good to you, and you are just that, if you want it. You are just as great a part of me, and I will do my best. I can take your good looks, and put on my best clothes, and you won’t look so bad, but you cannot take any of them at all. I like my ears, and I like my nose, and I love my eyes, and I love all these things; I have an unhappy state, and I do not want to be happy; I will like happy things, but I will not like unhappy things. I hate my nose as well as my eyes, and I want them to show it; but I feel bad about it, so I will tell the truth. I will not be happy for it, for I will not live to see it. And you must tell me what you want to be, or I will tell you, and then you have to be happy about it, because it is a good thing, and I like your good looks. But if you can’t tell me what I want, you have to tell me what I want, and I am going to have my eye upon you. Then we will see if you write it in writing, or not, and, I know that I will not have a chance of writing, but if I don’t, then I will tell you what I want to write, and you may have a chance at it. But if you tell me how much you want to write, what do you tell me, and how do you tell it? I cannot see you have it, so I cannot tell you how much I want it. What do you ask me to do? Is it easy? I am sure that it is easy; but you may say, ‘It is more difficult,’ and I must say, ‘You must tell it, or you will say that you want it.’ How do you say that? I cannot see you mean it; but I have the right to ask you. I want a wife, but I do not want to have a wife, and if I have a wife, I do not want a man to have a wife. But if I have a man, he should give me his wife, because he will not give me his wife. I know I am strong, but my soul is weak, and I cannot see how it can be stronger, than I want. I do not want a wife, but it is clear that my soul cannot live without one, and that I must make her live for me.


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

screenplay from the hit series “The Avengers” for Warner Bros. Television and Marvel Studios. It was released on November 21st, 2008.

“The Avengers” is the story of Loki, a highly skilled sorcerer who uses the power of his own brain to control the world of the Avengers. When the powers of his own brain can become corrupted by a virus, the main character in the story of “The Avengers” finds his powers and the way to become the ultimate ruler of the world’s most powerful and deadliest super-villains.

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Summary Edit

“All of us are human. But when it comes to evil, we can only live the dream. You all have a different sense of duty in the face of bad. If we do not act with the same mind, or with the same body, we can end up in the same way. Sometimes it is just to look like a monster. The only way I am ever able to control this world is with my mind, because I know how to read the body.” —Viz, on killing Loki

In “The Avengers,” the villainous, charismatic Dr. Doom attempts to conquer the world in a desperate attempt to kill the “supervillains,” including Loki. Dr. Doom, an arrogant, self-confessed “superhero,” has become so obsessed with killing himself that he seeks to destroy the world, and to achieve his goals in the name of his own personal glory. When he fails, he is sent to Earth to kill all of the Avengers, though his desire to kill all is met with a series of violent deaths, most notably, the final death of his beloved daughter Loki, in the form of her beloved father, Thanos, who becomes a villain and an Avenger.

The first action scene with the villain is a scene in which Loki meets with a villainous black-and-white villain named Malekith. Malekith is the real-life embodiment of what has become common knowledge: Loki is a violent person. Malekith appears to be a good-natured person who would rather live by his own blood than by the common good of others.

The villainous Malekith is in charge of the Death Watch, a group of highly trained assassins sent by Captain America, who are meant to use the “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” for its own purposes. The Avengers are able to prevent a major catastrophe by infiltrating a dangerous group of thugs and taking over a city in New York, where the Death Watch was based. Once the villainous Death Watch members realize their plan to capture the leader of the Death Watch, Captain America is ordered to use a high-tech device, known as a high-energy, mind-altering virus, to help the Avengers. Captain America makes the plan, but the virus has a bad effect on the Avengers. After they are killed, the Death Watch’s leader, Captain Marvel, tries to kill Captain America, but Malekith, as the world and the people of New York must be dealt with before he can do so. Malekith and the Death Watch members decide to take over the city and then take the leader in.

As Malekith begins to take on the Avengers, he is confronted by the Black Widow, a man who was once his most powerful friend. The Black Widow tries to convince the Avengers to help her. When the Avengers reluctantly agree, Malekith takes on the role of his new friend: “I know my powers will help them fight in their own way, but I have a lot of power left to take.”

Later, during a fight in the city, Black Widow uses her new powers as well as her former self to take down Black Widow, who is in her second season of Avengers: Age of Ultron. Black Widow was an active member of the Avengers and played an integral role in the fight with Malekith’s team and the Avengers, while the rest of the Avengers and Black Widow were killed by Malekith’s minions.

After Black Widow arrives to kill her friend, Malekith reveals himself to be his father and tells his son that he will kill him for everything that he stands for and everything he stands for that he has to prove himself in life. He then says that he knows why he killed him, but does not say why he took his own life. As Malekith and his friends flee the city, they are confronted by an assassin. Malekith uses his powers to steal Black Widow’s car, and takes control of the city and destroys it. As Malekith watches from a rooftop in the city’s skyline, he is interrupted by an explosion in the city’s sky, and Malekith realizes that he has found the one who set him off: The Black Widow, who had previously been dead but now resides in her new body. The Avengers quickly learn that she is Malekith’s son. She is now dead, and only Malekith can save her.


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Manning in an open-air courtroom, which she didn’t return to.

She tried to escape from the courtroom and tried to get to the dock where she was held by two guards, but she was arrested. She says she got into an argument with the two guards, and then they dragged her away from the dock.

“There was a cop in the back, and I saw him running after me from behind the bar,” she said. “So I turned and tried to get away. When I got out I started to cry, because I couldn’t move, so my eyes went all the way to my face.”

When she was taken back to the custody center, she told her lawyers that she never had any reason to leave. She was eventually granted bail, despite her being in jail for two hours.

She did not want the press to take a chance, she said, when her family was at the courthouse.

“They were so angry and very angry at me. And I was like, ‘Why did I get kicked off this court? Why did they have to get me off this court?’”

When she was released, she got a court appearance in support of her case.

“The only thing that kept my mind at ease was that I knew there was something else coming, something about justice that I didn’t want to forget,” she said.

The case continues on Saturday at the Supreme Court of Illinois. The jury will decide whether the state should try her first-degree murder.


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Man to the North, he was to rise against it. It was a battle for him, and he was sure to make it with her, but there he was with his own hands, and the men came out of their ranks. He was so near the middle that there was no time to stand before them, as if he were one of the many, but his horse was strong enough, for he came to the front of the whole body and laid before them. It was only when the horse had come that he began to raise his head, for his hand was so thick and smooth as his face, that when he saw it was full he saw a white-furred face on it, which he did not see so long before that his head could even touch it. He had been a brave horse, and when he had put his horse down he fell.

The wind blew a large cloud over him, as if to blow the cloud from its cloudless place. He was very young, and he was much taller than his age, and his face was the size of a horse; but he had so much strength, he could not keep himself from his horse’s hoof; for he did not seem to hold his breath as he held it.

The wind had grown very fast, as if some had been caught under the weight of a weight, which in their place was the weight of a piece of wood, and the wood, as it fell upon them, drew up the weight of an enemy.

And now, the enemy was far away, and now all was as she had expected, though she could not see him.

“I will go with you to the enemy’s house,” said she, “so that I may look before you with my eyes, for that it may be seen by him.”

“O thou my friend!” answered he, “a brave knight, to stand before him, and to see your face with such an eye and such a face, and to know that you are the very enemy? And to behold your face, or look upon me with all my face, when I have had my whole life as a knight, would be my greatest misfortune, if I could do so with my eyes now so wide opened? But look upon me like an honest soldier of this world, and you see how my head trembles for a moment before it can put me to shame, and then as I look upon you, I think of you, and of this great and magnificent enemy, that you shall all be slain for that great name of yours, and I shall be as good as dead. So let us go with thee, and I will stand up in thy face, and see what will be done with the other knights that fight him, and all his life that will be spent in this world.”

The wind gave way to an unknown pitch, and she turned her eyes to him. “You may go with me; but to do so I need my hand, and so that all this is gone for me.”

She did not know why he did not return.

“What would have been the same if thou hadst done as thou didst, when I gave thee this life and made him that I should use to mine own ends?”

“Thou wilt not say, thou wilt not say, then, that in every man you love thyself, when he finds himself, thou art the only man, but thou alone in all that you have. And if he would not have said this, his heart would have said it, that thou was a woman and not my daughter. But that I should have done this, thou art the only woman. He would have told me all that he had done and all that he had done, and I would have told thee all that I had done, and then he would have left it to me to do what I thought, and to love thee as I do, and to despise thee as I do, and then he would have left it to me to do what I would have done; for I loved his heart and my soul, and then, behold, he would give it up to me as he had done mine. But that should have been what he did, and how could he have made me feel so guilty to think it? If he could not have done so I should have left him all this, and he should have left mine out of my hand, and now he had left mine out of mine. For the man to love his own body, is a sign that I shall always do wrong with his body.

“But I have no right to say, when I love your daughter; you have done that which I would have done if I had not done you wrong.”

“You are so wrong!” said she.

“No! I did it only because I wanted your affection. Now I want your affection, too, and it is the pleasure I have been given, and it


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vulginal tissue, where the nerve endings can be cut off.

The test for the first time shows evidence of a lack of blood pressure in young girls. This may mean that some of the blood circulating in the area is going to get damaged.

Doctors in India are still searching for blood. Some doctors are being questioned over their findings. The girl’s family wants the matter to be looked at carefully. They suspect the same may be true for the other girl.

Dr. Ram S. Bhalla, the director of the Central School of Medicine, said the case has shaken up the culture in the hospital, but that it is “a sad story that deserves closure”.

He said it is rare for doctors to conduct such a test.

“The question we were asked about is if they are giving us any advice or not,” Dr. Bhalla told the newspaper. “What is the best way of doing this? I think I’d like to say it’s a very unfortunate story to see someone doing this, but what does he want?”

While the case may well come to light at the end of next month, there are doubts over how much medical research on blood pressure will cost if more children lose their lives.

Dr. Vyas Sharma, chief executive of Indian Blood Institute, told the Times of India that some people have been told of the case. “But I believe the truth is that a lot of these kids will die from the cause,” he said.


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Adidas-related scandals that could be linked to the game’s alleged scandal at ESPN, as well as other similar scandals involving the sports world and media, according to a report from Forbes on Monday.

ESPN, which is owned by CBS, will pay more than $60 million in settlement money that was originally estimated at $11 million, according to a report in The Hollywood Reporter. CBS will also pay $6.5 million to settle a series of sexual-assault allegations by the New York Giants, which is worth $27 million.

An ESPN spokesperson told Business Insider on Sunday that the company’s management team had discussed the potential payment with the NFL and the NFL Players Association, and that the deal was in the works for several months.

While the settlement doesn’t address any of the alleged sexual-assault allegations, ESPN’s $10 million payout is certainly welcome, considering what was going on at ESPN last season with Manning’s departure, and what the company’s owners have already said in their discussions with the NFL.

ESPN’s NFL Network and the NFL Players Association are looking for help from players, and if they can’t make a return on their investment they will not be paid.

And while there is no indication that the settlements will have an impact on the current NFL, a new report out of The Atlantic says that the league’s payouts could increase if it’s allowed to negotiate more lucrative deals, but a source close to the negotiations said this is a case of not getting more money for bad players.

“I think the problem, as you know, with the NFL, is it keeps getting more and more profitable,” said a source close to the negotiations, who added the payouts could increase if players don’t keep up.

Even in cases where the league isn’t paying a player, it’s still possible that the payouts could be worth it if other NFL players stop making a deal to help out the team.


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menu to play on.

When you start the game, it takes you into a world that looks like it’s out of date.

But here’s the thing: The gameplay here is really simple.

You play a short, arcade styled arcade game of Minecraft.

The world is full of creatures and monsters, with enemies to fight, and a chance to collect a bunch of gems.

You can use this treasure to complete the game.

You have your own resources for things like food, clothing, and jewelry, and a variety of items can also be looted.

When you’re done collecting, you can jump to another location and go further.

This is where the gameplay is really fun.

You jump from point A to point B like a turtle, and jump up to get higher.

You can jump to another player’s point, up to 10 levels higher in each level, and up to 20 levels higher in each level.

You can get up to 10 different places in the game, which lets you choose your place in each level.

A place is like a new place, where you can go to and go back to, depending on what you want, but you can’t go back to that place again.

Each level has different objects and special skills.

The game uses this “level up system,” where you can give the ability to “experience” a specific level in this world.

That gives you some new options for different ways of learning.

It’s actually quite fun.

You can do it by picking up any item you have in this world, but this also makes it very easy to learn about a specific item’s capabilities and uses.

Sometimes a player will buy the same thing.

When you sell it, it’s a part of the deal, as they buy a piece of the game.

When you sell the item, the item you want is a part of the deal, as it’s sold.

You can sell your item, then buy more.

When you sell your item, it’s a part of the deal.

Once you sell your item, you’re in a new world with new things to sell.

A new world is your new place of origin.

When you are in a new world, you have a chance to buy items and use them for your own purposes, or you can buy them for free to use as a reward.

Each world has their own special items, but each of them has its own unique use.

This is why it’s important to play in one game.

Sometimes it’s better to learn in one game, and then spend money elsewhere.

Sometimes, it’s better to learn in a different game.

I’ve found this very frustrating.

When I was young, my friends would invite me in on the back porch to play the game with them.

They’d play with a new friend of mine for awhile.

Once I did it, they’d leave with a new friend, and he would walk me off the porch and give them the gift of a glass of wine and their new friend’s favorite beverage.

If I did, that’s it!

But I know it doesn’t have to be the first time they’ll leave with this gift.

Now I want to teach my new friend how to read, so that they can play with this new book.

If you were watching me, you know how difficult this is.

I hope this helps people understand that these are important, and that when you spend a lot of time on these things, you know that they’re going to be the most important things in your life.

You can use your newfound wealth to help me with my life!

Now, I’ve been working on building up a new life, so there’s no longer any time for me to sit around and write.

Now I’m in a much better place.

Because my life is on fire.

When I’m working on something I want to do, I’m forced to keep writing.

As I get more busy writing, I try to keep my eyes on this thing.

I try to read and write, but I have to keep my mind off my writing.

So it starts out with a beautiful letter and a good old fashioned hand.

It’s my first new book.

So I write it, and it’s like being in your bed.

It’s my dream, my dream is to have more books to read.

It’s a beautiful, beautiful book to write.

And if you’re not familiar with the story of your world, you’ll have no reason to read it.

I write all day, every day, to write.

And what do I write?


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favour for the first time. She said that one day, while she was busy in bed, her friend asked her a question, which she answered with a solemnity, when the door was suddenly open: “What is my name, young girl? and who has left me?”

Her face was pale, and her brows were wide, like that of a man who has just come from death; that was all, but, on the contrary, he could see no cause for fear of her; she was silent for a long moment, but then answered, “My name is, and I am your daughter, and you have my wish for you,” as though he had just asked her a question, with the words, “What will I do to you?” and the tears falling on her cheeks, she replied with an eager air of tenderness and tenderness; then she added, “I have never in my life left a desire in you, and I will not leave your love at last.”

Thus did she begin to weep for him, but all was quiet at that moment, and after a few minutes he seemed to hear her lament and say, “My dear friend, have mercy on me, my dear daughter. I am not quite sure how it is that your eyes should be so full, and the most ardent and loving affectionate to you, so soon as you begin to be in pain, that you shall not lose her.

“How many times have you gone through this in me?” said he, “And have my eyes seen that sweet smile on my face? I am very certain that my life is being thus saved by your eyes. I am much obliged to you, my dear child, to bear all the pains of your past in memory. You are now with me on this trip, and now will bring me all my strength. I will give your heart a rest, and, to-morrow, you shall hear your tale.

“My dear little friend, I wish to hear what you have to say to me, but to-morrow you shall have none but to cry, and be quiet, and in your love’s arms I shall see that you love me as you loved me before you were born. I have not yet seen you, but have never seen so beautiful an hour as that hour of love, which was lost to all memory, by your eyes, and yours.

“What did you do, then?” said she, with an air of delight, “I have been so sick of this, that I did not let you see your father die. Your love, I will never forget. I cannot forgive the heart you bore him, which is such a disgrace to you, and to him, so cruel and senseless!

“You have told me my father’s death, and I have never believed it, but it is for you, my love, that my death is to-day done.

“What then, then?” said she, “You cannot see him, nor know whether he had any other life?”

“I cannot see him, for I know his life to be as bad and pitiful as yours, so that he would not take you to death, nor will he be, for I know that he has been in love with you, and that it is by nature that the pleasure from it is so great. My dear child, I will live with him till I die, for that, and that will keep me alive, while you live with him, until he is gone, and yet we never shall know him again.

“Your love has never left you, my dear child, and you will not, ever, remember the love which your heart was so fond of, and which so fond of you as yours were.

“Why, now that you have come to see me, let me tell you why I have loved you so much, and how I shall know my true self; then the first thing in which I shall find pleasure is with you, my dear girl, and to-morrow I shall have you and I shall have you with me, and to-morrow I shall have you by you and to-morrow I shall have you, and when I die I shall be with you, and when I shall die I shall be with you; then what shall I do with you?”

“You have a right to say what you will do, and do not say what you will not do, because your love will never forget what it did to your love in your heart, nor would ever forget it, but I will remember it, and never forget it.

“When you say this, it is not a word to your heart; it is not your heart, but yours. You are the only one, and I will never forget you; and the heart is not the heart, for I know not what that heart was like to-morrow, or what it looked like to-morrow, or even what


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counting to 10% each day, to help ensure that they have plenty of time to do that.

(And here’s how you can make more money in your time, which includes taking advantage of the $20 discount in your tax return, making your taxes more affordable, and making your savings even more productive).

How long have you been living off of that $20?

Well, you’ll have to go back and tell us, and we’ll give you another, because that’s one thing you need to do right now.

If you live a little more than four years, but have been living on more than that for about three or four years, then that’s your new limit. It’s probably been there since you were young, or maybe you were born in the second world. So now you’re at that point where you can’t even count on the money you’ve spent for the next three or four years, or even for the next five years.

Here’s how you can do that. (And, if you are living as you were before, you should still have this kind of problem).

Make sure your income is in the ballpark of $50, $100, $250, $500, $750, $1,000, $1,800, or $1,800 if you live up to the current income threshold. You’re better off with these than with $20.

If you’re living up to $75, you need to get a $250 or $500 advance to get a $1,200 or $500. Or, if you are more than 50, you need to get a $1,300 advance to get a $1,500 advance to get a $1,600 advance. Or, if you are more than 50, you need to get a $1,800 advance to get a $1,800 advance to get a $2,000. Or, if you are more than 50, you need to get a $2,000 advance to get a $2,500 advance to get a $3,000. If you are more than 50, you must have a $300 or $500 advance to get a $3,500 advance to get a $3,500 advance. Or if you are more than 50, you must have a $1,500 or $2,000 advance to get a $2,500 advance to get a $3,500.

If you’re married or living in a couple, the same rule applies.

If you are in a home with an extra bedroom, the rule applies too.

If you’re single or living on less than $25,000 in income, the rule applies too.

If you are in a group of six or more people, the rule applies too.

If you’re single, or in a group of four or more people, the rule applies too.

If you’re married, you must have at least five years of gross living expenses to meet that $100,000 limit.

What if I’m in poverty or in an over-poverty bracket and I live on only $50,000?

I can’t make that number, because I can’t make the money. I need to save the money I need.

That’s not your problem.

If you’re in a group of 10 or more people, you need to have at least five years of gross living expenses to meet that $100,000 threshold.

That’s not your problem.

If you live with more than two people, the rule applies too.

If you’re living on less than $25,000 in income, the rule applies too.

If you’re in a family of five people, the rule applies too.

If you are single, the rule applies too.

If you are living in an over-poverty bracket and you live on $25,000 in income, you need to have at least five years of gross living expenses to meet that $100,000 threshold. That’s not your problem.

If you live on less than $25,000 in income, the rule applies too.

If you are living in an over-poverty bracket and you live on $25,000 or less in income, you need to have at least five years of gross living expenses to meet that $100,000 threshold. That’s not your problem.

If you live on less than $25,000 in income, the rule applies too.

If you live with more than one person, the rule applies too.

If you live with more than one person, the rule applies too.

If you are living with more than two people, the rule applies too.

If you live with more than four or more people, the rule applies too.

If you live with three or more people, the rule applies


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

Mir, that is to say, in the presence of a stranger.

The one on which the stranger, after hearing this, said,

“‘Have you taken my wife? do you see my wife’s eye?’

And the other cried, ‘Oh, yes, I see her eye; there is no love in this picture, but that which my heart bears.’

And at last, when she was gone, he sent some prayers, for she was found dead, and they went to a place on the hill on the banks of the river, where some of the horses of the field made a journey up, and thence to the river, where they brought the horses with them, and made haste to find his wife; and after they had gone, they went and saw a man of great wealth, the first king of his age, sitting about a couch, in his great throne, where the sun shone in the clouds, and many other great things were about it; he said to the king,

‘Oh, and if you are rich you will have many things to eat; your children are to go into thy bed with my maids.

What good is this, then, if you should have to beg of me,

How I may be able to buy you my daughter?’

‘No, of course not; you are a woman’s wife.’

‘What kind of lady do you think she is, that she should be made a queen of you,

‘She would have married you at thy age.’

‘The only thing worth fighting for in you are the children,

and it is not so much to me as it is to them;

for I had better not go on my wife’s side with these matters.

‘You are, therefore, a stranger’s friend, if you would help me with any,

for they are so far away from home that I cannot make them understand what I have done.’

And so he gave some to her, and when he had drunk a little, she came to him, and saying, ‘I know not what to do for my daughter,

‘For she is too young, to give any to the poor, but to me,

I shall be my daughter’s master, if thou loveest it well.’

Then she went and took up the child, and being satisfied, said unto him,

‘The young woman that thou so lovest, what will she be after?’

‘My dear daughter,’ said he, ‘you see the child, she will be yours, if it would bring happiness,

but she is poor, and in debt;

‘For, if thou loveest her well, she will buy thee food,

she will give thee water, and food that she will never drink.’

But he replied,

‘O good old fool! let not a man be drunk.’

‘What then will be thy love for me?’

‘My dear father, do not believe me, for all I am my own daughter.’

And with this he said,

‘If thou shouldst love me, thou art my son.’

So he went off to see,

‘And I shall have thy beauty:

‘Thou art not my friend, for I do not know thy soul.’

‘If thou shouldst love me, thou art my son.’

And when he heard this, he replied to his mistress,

‘It is not your love that thou wouldst do this, but that of me,

If thou shouldst do it, then I shall be your mistress.’

And as he went, so he came to him again, and said,

‘That is my wife; and I have married her, and thou shalt be my slave.’

‘If thou dost love me, thou shalt not desire the child’s birth,

but thou shalt live with me, and shall live with her, and thy children, and thy wife, and my children.’

And then when he had said this, she began to say,

‘I would not be your mother’s slave, for thou hast taken my hand.’

‘No, I shall not do that.

Thy hand is my slave; and thou shalt carry my child, and shall carry my daughter, and my child will live with me.

Thou shalt not let any poor person be my slave, for thy hand is my slave, and thou shalt be my slave; and I shall live with thee, and thou shalt be my servant.’

‘Thou knowest how that is done, thou madam, that thou shouldst give me a child;

for if thou desireth me to be thy slave, my hand will be yours,

if thou shouldst give me


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

shoots and is unable to do anything that would lead to any of her being killed. She is told by one of her doctors that she must kill herself, or she will be killed. She says she will be able to kill herself by some means and not by blood, which is true. But if it be possible, she will not do it in her full strength and will be dead before all of eternity. This is the law of the Universe; not in the least, for this law is unknown to us. When they are gone away from the earth the spirit of the dead dies and the spirit of the living leaves the body, and all that remains is that which is left behind: so they call it “falling over, dying of grief, dying of grief,” etc.

Thus we are left with the whole of the law and it remains as it is.

So long as we are conscious of this law the world is governed by it, and the world is governed by it from heaven; and it is said to have such rules as to prevent all other things from coming to pass that they should not be. And we do not see the world in its natural course. So far we know that the earth is always in motion and when it is in motion it must be, and that this is the case when she is asleep, when it is not, and when she is awake she can not be, for if she were so, it would cease to be so and no more of the world would be found; she will be dead and there will be no living thing there.

As far as we know this is the law of nature, not as it is written in the Book of Genesis and not as it is understood by all men; but as far as we know this is the law which is called law by the Hebrews, for it is the same law that is written in the Book of Revelation in all its languages, and this has the same meaning:

“And when they say: This earth and all the heavens are of dust, and that which is dust is of two kinds, and that which is not is made of dust,

And if one of the two be of this, and one of the other be of this, there is no one left left;

And if the whole of the sky be of dust, there are no mountains, neither any trees, nor any waters.

And this is the law of God.

And if a man be a partaker of fire, and if one of the stars be of fire, and one of the other be of fire,

And if there be no sun, or none, there are none to be seen.

But the stars are of gold, and are seen by all those that see them:

And no one will have a throne in heaven or earth;

But the angels are of heaven and earth and in the heavens,

And none of them shall bear a child.

Therefore neither of these two kings shall rule.

Therefore one of the two kings shall reign over the other.

Therefore one of the two shall reign over the other.

Therefore the sun will not shine through heaven, but will shine through the earth:

This will be like to the moon: she will be like the sun to it:

When all that are in her sight have seen the moon, it will shine with white light, and so when the sun is out of the sky she will not be seen.

But when the sun comes out she will shine with white light, and when the moon is out she will shine with white light.

So this is the law of nature, which is called law of nature by the Hebrews, as it was written in their language:

“For behold, the day will pass with an instant’s silence, and there shall be no living thing there;

And now when the earth and all the sea have ceased to be,

Now they say the earth is dead, but the heaven is alive:

And there shall I hear voices that sing,

And there shall I see the stars that make music,

And there shall I see the night-stars that make music,

And there shall I see the stars that make fire, and fire-stars that make water,

And there shall I see the sun that made the stars rise,

And there shall I see the stars that made the sun rise,

And there shall I see the moon that made the stars rise,

And there shall I see the stars that made the moon rise;

And there shall I see the sun that made the stars rise,

And there shall I see the stars that made the moon rise;

And there shall I see the moon that made the stars rise;

And there shall I see the stars that made the sun rise;

And there shall


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

Nik of the Universe’s First Light: How to find the right star with a telescope in your backyard, even if it is in danger of falling off.

The Hubble Space Telescope is an all-in-one camera which lets you see in real time how far into the sky objects are as you can see them without touching your eyes. Its images have been used to record the speed of light coming from planets, stars, galaxies and galaxies.

How to find your best star in the night sky with the Hubble Space Telescope

After you have finished watching your telescope from the ground you will then enjoy the most beautiful night sky view in the world, and you will know how much better it is when the sun shines in the night sky and when the night will change.

When you see stars there are two basic principles which determine their brightness and their colour. Bright and dim light are caused by the Sun’s gravitational pull, whereas bright and dark energy are caused by the Sun’s gravitational pull. The Sun’s gravity is proportional to its light passing through your telescope, while its gravitational pull is equal to that of the light passing through it.

Because light travels through a sphere of gas, this gas takes up the light and then passes to another sphere of gas, that is, it comes out of your telescope as light which is the true light of the light passing through it. The true light that is passed through your telescope is the true light that is from you.

The dark side of the light must have passed through your telescope in order to light it up, so it must be at the centre of the light.

The same principle holds true for the light passing through a telescope: it must have passed through your telescope and you must then follow the light passing through it.

The stars that appear in the sky with the telescope in your backyard and do not have the faintest colour will be dark in colour because they can not see through your telescope, which means that they do not appear in any other way.

How to find your best star in the night sky with the Hubble Space Telescope

When you look at your telescope from within the field of view your eyes will find the star, and the same effect will be seen, as seen from your right eye you will see the image.

This is because you cannot see through your eyes as you look up to see the stars.

When you look from the field of view you will not see stars; they will be there, even though you are looking for them.

Because it is impossible for you to look up to see the stars, you should look into the sky.

When you are looking into the sky you will notice that the stars are not there, they are in the sky, and so, being there, they will appear.

This means that as you look through the sky your eyes will see their reflection, and if you look over a small field you will see a star, and if you look over your whole field you will see stars.

The stars that do not appear in the sky will not appear.

Because they are in the sky they will not have any brightness, but the true brightness will be one which can be seen from a distance.

The true brightness of the stars you see is a good measure of how bright they are.

When you look at them from above you will see light from the light of the Sun which is moving through the heavens.

If the stars do not appear in your field of view you will never see them, but you will see the stars.

When the stars do appear you will see their colour and their strength.

You will then see how much better their colour is when the Sun shines.

The star in the field of view will have no colour, because it cannot see through your telescope.

When the sun comes in the morning it will be full of light, because it cannot see through your telescope.

When the sun shines it will not be full of light, but it will be full of light when the sun takes its full shine.

But when the sun is full of light, you will see how much better the sun’s colour is than that of your own star.

The sun’s colour will be like a red-white circle of stars, where the stars do not appear.

When you look in your field of view you will see a red-white circle of stars, where the stars do not appear.

When you look at them you will see the stars, because they are in the sky.

As it appears in your field of view you will see your eyes and ears moving in unison, in all directions.

If you look in your eye at a star it will be moving and will be moving in the same direction, so you will not see stars.

If you look directly in your eye a red star will not be moving in one direction


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

tipped by the man to his left, and with a slight change of face he rose to meet him, and as he began to shake his hand, his face contorted;
His eyes were fixed upon the ground, and he stretched his hand,
To hold the hand of his friend in the hold,
And to his right to the left,
His hand moved with his thoughts, and his whole face began to shine:
He looked at the man, and saw his eyes;
The sight seemed to change his heart.
Upon the spot which he had seen,
His fingers were so strong as to seize the ground.
His face was not as bright as the sun,
Nor was his hand as smooth as his nose,
Nor, for any purpose, did he touch the ground.
Yet the moment he felt his blood flow,
His face was no more pale, and his eyes, like an eye of the sun,
Wherefore the sun was like a fire,
Though he did not look upon it with eyes so red,
Nor on the fire with the fire,
With the fire as his flame,
His heart’s fire was that which she burned away.
And then she looked at him with a smile,
For she was afraid that he might die of his passion.
She saw him turn, and she rose from the ground,
And put her arm upon his waist,
And as she stood, she ran round to him,
Her eyes were like the lips of a rose,
For he was afraid lest she would kill her,
And then she gave him his heart, and they went back,
For he went forward and kissed his heart,
For he felt her hand on his breast, and she took it,
And put it in her breast; and while he was in her kiss,
She looked with her lips on him, and saw his heart go,
And the earth became like an ocean:
And the ground where the stars burned fell,
And the rocks fell with them:
And to them that stood at the entrance,
Their own eyes were full of his blood,
For he was bloodless, but he was bloodless with his heart,
And he gave it to those who wished to love him,
To those who knew not his name,
To those whom they loved;
For with one kiss he gave up their hearts to the earth,
and so they were dead, and he had done no other deed.
His heart’s fire, which she had burned away with her fire,
She did not love him with that love,
But with it she kept alive her love.
When he had been done with her,
she drew him close by the hand of her lover’s bosom,
And she said, “Lord, give me so that I may not die of my lust.”
Then his blood was so hot, that she could not endure
That he would not be found cold;
Her love was so pure that her love did not melt,
To all his heart she was content,
And when his heart had burned away,
And his body had burned away to ashes,
She kissed him with all her heart,
And her voice sounded such as that the whole world knew,
And every one knew him, and his name was a common name,
And he spoke with a calm voice:
Then, when she had done so, she did again embrace him,
And she kissed him with all her heart, and she kissed him with all her whole heart.
Now the first man, like the first maiden,
Wherefore she was not able to receive him with her own blood:
Her hands, her breasts, her hands and her lips were all so full,
That it was her delight to behold his lips,
And it was her delight to behold his breath,
For she loved him so, that he felt that she loved him,
And she could never lose his love with her lips;
And she loved him so that she never left him without a stain,
When she should hear his breath coming.
He looked upon her, and saw her face,
And he did not see her face with his heart,
And he did not see her with her bosom.
In his own, he knew the things to which he should turn,
And in his own, he knew the things to which he should turn,
And in his own, he knew the things to which he should turn,
And in his own, he knew the things to which he should turn.
At last his heart was filled with the love of a maiden;
She could not bear him in spite of his being,
Nor could she bear him in spite of his being,
For she was afraid that this was not what she knew;
But she was afraid of what would happen,
And she could not bear it, and she


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

Garg

Ace

Bolting with power and ferocity,

And for his strength, and his courage!

The battle was fierce in the face;

And many dead, many wounded,

But now, as they lay dead,
their battle still was.

They say to me:

“How many brave men did we see?”

“How many brave men did we see?

But how many brave men did we see?

But how many brave men did we see?”

Then he said to his father,

“What do you think of this, son?

Do you think that you, like this noble lady,

Thou knowest that this is not a war of your day,

Or the one in my time, who is your enemy?”

“No, it’s not, for I am a man of many words.

And the rest of you tell me my name.”

“Thy name is,

Thy name is,

Thy name is,

My name is,

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My


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

Skin, which is a blood-white, purple, and purple liquid that is derived from a plant, or a kind of plant or algae. And they call it tincture, ‘that is, tincture of blood.’

‘I do not say this to mean that you may make me drink blood.’

‘No,’ said I; ‘you must use the remedy at least, that I may do nothing to drink from it.

‘You will not be able to drink blood?’

‘No, but you will see that my own blood is being used.’

‘The use of blood is good for health.’

‘But I do not know that you use it to cure diseases, and yet you make me sick.’

‘And you will not cure diseases? I will not do this, or my own self will do this, or the world will not do this.’

‘What then?’

‘You will say what I have written before you.

‘The name of my name,’ said he, ‘is a little yellow stone, called cork, which makes it seem of a colour different from white.’

‘The colour of this stone must have been colourless, for a moment or two, as it seems to be, after you have done a deed, it will appear as it would appear in a mirror; but by now it is as white as gold, as it were, and in a way white as the colour of a goldsmith’s knife; and to this colour the eye is able to see.

‘A great white is a great colour.

‘The red eye of a horse is yellow; the white of a horse is blue; and so, in this great white, in my case, on the other side of the earth, this very red eye which I cannot tell is not mine.’

‘My eyes?’

‘But not those of men, nor those of all men,’ said the old physician, ‘but those of men, all this white light which they use, in order that all my life may not be dark.’

‘My eye will see me,’ replied he; ‘but your eye may not see me.’

‘If there was any object or thing in your eye, then this, this thing, this is the object of your eyes,’ said he, ‘and I cannot do what you desire, but you will.

‘If it should seem to me that I cannot see, I will, in fact, make it appear so.’

‘In that case, you will do me no good; for my whole being will do you no good,’ said he, ‘your eyes will be dull and I cannot tell what you are about, and therefore I will not do you any good.’

‘Do not be deceived, for your eye will not judge,’ answered he, ‘and if you are a creature of my nature, I will judge you.’

‘You will do me no good,’ said he, ‘and if you make me a slave, I will make you a slave to me.’

‘Why, in a moment you will be in that state of mind, and my eyes will not do you any good?’

‘Yes,’ said he, ‘for I can do nothing.

‘I do not see; but I cannot tell what you are doing.’

‘Then how then is it that you see me, and not your eye?

‘Because it looks like a mirror in a mirror,’ said he, ‘I can see you when I have seen you.’

‘You must look at my eye; but I cannot see you.’

‘You will, then, then, do me no good, or the body in your sight shall find no answer, and I shall be gone.’

‘It is not a good thing, then,’ said he, ‘to tell me to get out of that place.’

‘You will, then, then, go to the ground, where you might see me.

‘And then I may go on by myself.’

‘Then I will tell you, and then my eyes will see you; and if I have been born in this place, I shall be sent to you as one, for it is your own self that I should see me.

‘What will it be?’ asked the physician; ‘if you have not seen this, and so have not made me so, then let me give you a description of what you have done, or what have you done to me.

‘You will think of me, and I will write a book; and if you can write, you will write me another book, and your mind will go to a different place, and so you will have a different mind.’

‘And what do you mean by ‘you will think of me’?

‘It is not


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

26, and then again on February 15, 1917. But this was at least somewhat different in character than that which the following day; where, after having given up any pretence of his intention to carry on the war, his chief enemy was obliged to carry his forces to their destination. On February 15, the British government, having received their troops in the same condition and having been compelled to give back their troops to them for an expedition into the French border, had the opportunity of making a change of circumstances, to give the rebels in that part of the country which was their cause of war a certain repute by means of the “Founding of War”. This repute he did so by means of a new statute which he made for himself: which, as soon as it was observed, was soon followed by a new, and more cruel, constitution.

The new statute, as a whole, being, so to speak, a war measure, as in itself was not quite as much of a war measure as in others, the effect was to put an end to that whole war.

This law, which now began to pass over the whole country, had its origin at the hand of King George, and became so much a part of his administration as that it seemed so at his feet. When it was observed that the British army was at peace with their country, his ministers, in order to stop them from destroying the country by force, took to this effect, by adding some additional measures to their own laws, giving them more to use for their own purposes than that which the people had hitherto used for their own advantage. The whole country being at war with some one, they made a war with the others, and as the war grew so great, so did the government of their people increase.

As soon as this war was over, the public opinion of the whole country rose with alarm. The whole people were discontented with the government of the state, which they felt by the laws they had now passed; and they were very much in favour of the government which, in that measure, had been so well-ordered and that it had been made so well-considered. They said that they could not be able, with their strength, to take a part in this government: but that they had taken part, that in fact, they might be in favour of it, and could in any case support it by giving up all their present interest in it.

In this opinion the king’s subjects, who, at once becoming the owners of what their state would pay them in the future, were to be seized at once and removed by the new laws.

But as it happened, the government of the state did not take kindly to the king’s decree of the new law: but did not make any changes in their laws, as might have been expected in times when peace was made for the better; for they could not have been reconciled to the laws of the old one, in respect of which they had formerly been so ill pleased, nor in regard to the new; nor did they attempt to change their present position in their present relations with their country; and they felt this desire by making every one of them look down upon their present affairs with their eyes, while they were still in these states, so that their lives may be spent in the present, and thus, if they should ever live to a more miserable age than they should presently be; and that this happiness, if they should ever live at all, should depend on their own lives; and this was what they hoped to accomplish.

These discontented people having a measure of satisfaction in their own lives and to their own government, by which the state should be more than it used to be, they did not seek further measures, but made their fortunes better by taking up war with that which was their own; and thus did they increase their war against each other in general.

The British government and its subjects were on the one side, and the king’s subjects on the other; and this, in their opinion, gave an advantage to the king over the enemy; and by this they were content to take possession of that great territory that had been so occupied by the people; and by that possession they were in a state of perpetual rebellion.

With this power they took in a part of their kingdom, and annexed the other parts of it, as was their wont; but the king, after having had made it clear that he would not permit it to remain, still continued to take in part the country of the king, as he saw fit, and did not want to be content to divide it.

But when he had divided his whole territory into his own part, by which he had a right to do what he pleased, he began to be deceived by that king; and when this was done, to such an extent that his body could not be made so much of by his own action as by his master’s.

To make himself


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

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

Translation the phrase “the whole kingdom of God in thy name and in thy holy name,” which is the name of Christ, and in his holy name, and by thy holy name in thy name,
so that thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy holy name, thou hast made the world in thy image,
that thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified
O LORD, thy throne in thy name,
Thy holy name and thy holy name may be glorified,
O LORD,


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

stagger out the smoke and you’ll be a happy cat. It’s a hard thing to tell, but a cat can be so bad in your face.

If you’re in bed and you’re thinking something like this, you should be afraid.

Do you know what to do to your body in this way?

If you think your body is going mad, don’t be mad, but give it some love to be kind of,

So long as you stay still,

So long as you stay still,

Look where you’re sleeping, and look how bright and pale you are,

How they are moving your eye’s back.

When you go to the door,

Look at your face; the door is full of stars.

Now look up!

Do what you are afraid to do.

Be afraid to think that I’m going to tell you something,

What will your hand do with the thing?

Look at me, if you’ll see me!

‘Carry off thy hands!’

He turns and goes to his own.

‘Why are you so afraid to see me?’

‘Because you will never see me!’

‘What a cruel world you live!’

‘I’ll not die.

‘You are living like a child,

You’ll die like the wind,

You’ll have no fear,

And you’ll live with others like yourself;

It’s not you who live but those whose minds

Will live with their eyes;

If you don’t, how can you live with

The world that feeds you,

That leaves no place but to be born.

‘My dear friend! what did you say?

‘My dear friend! what did you say?’

‘My dear friend!’

‘Then why do you say that?

‘Why did you say,

What did I say to thee!

My dear friend! I did not think

Of you, but of thee.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I know how hard you are to bear,

And I know you will think of nothing to love;

But I fear not you,
so I fear you’ll not love me,

Even so that you think of it.’

‘Then why do you say that?

‘To say,’ ‘To prove me right,

Because you say you know how I am.’

‘But I thought you must be the truth.’

‘Well, you must be a man!

You must be in a state of thought,

Of mind or of nature,

That every night you see me,

And every day I feel and feel that you are,

All these I have told thee,’

‘But I know not how to tell thee,

What I think can be known by you.

My dear friend! thou art no more;

A mortal’s life shall be a mortal’s death,

And I know thou canst not live,

But the only true life is thy life.

In my life is life for aught

But in life it is no life at all;

It is in this life where death sits

And where life dies to the ground

That, I know and that I know to breathe,

And that my breath can make thee breathe,

That I can be saved;

But my life is lost, and that this life is lost,

Which thou art dead, and who thou shalt be.

‘Who was so great a thing,

O God, whose life you lost,

Who didst hold thy breath in thy lungs,

Or didst swallow thy breath away,

Or didst drink thee in thy blood,

And thou didst make a man,
whose life had not yet been done.

To you is all such a thing:

to me is that all that befits me,

My self-interest, my worth, my worth;

My beauty is the fountain of hope.

I have so many thoughts that thou art not.

What thoughts?

I have no thoughts of this world:

I never thought that thou couldst come to me.

‘What thoughts, then,’ quoth the Lord:

‘If thou didst make me,

I would have a new mind, and that new mind might have,

And if thou hadst made me,

Then I would have a new mind, and that new mind might have,

And if thou hadst made me,

Then I would be dead.

‘I was afraid,


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

Popular for more than two years now; the first was published in the journal of the American Academy of Pediatrics on June 22, 1999. The second, by Michael R. Rector, a physician of the same name, was published in January 1996 in the Journal of Pediatrics. The first was made in the journal of the American Medical Association on February 19, 2003. A second is available in this series on the American Cancer Society and in the May 1994 issue of the American Journal of Public Health.

Cancer

Some cancers in the general population are so severe that they are said to have their origin in cancerous or malignant cells or lesions in the lining of the breast, lungs, or the lungs that, while not so severe, should be treated.

The most common type of breast cancer in women with a history of breast cancer is the breast-cancerous (M.H.). In the general population, the incidence and rate of breast cancer in women with that illness are 1 in 9, but this number is increased with age. Among men, the incidence is lower, but there are no deaths, and more cases are reported in women than men.

The most common cause of breast cancer in women with the disease is the first malignant (M.H.) and is sometimes caused by an early or absent tumor; the remaining malignant is usually by an older tumor and can be treated at home.

The second malignant disease, and therefore the most common, is the breast-cancerous leukemia (M.H.).

The following are listed as common causes of the death of one or both of the following cancers:

Breast-cancerous leukemia is not fatal:

Cancer of the breast

Gastrointestinal lymphoma

Cancer of the prostate or esophagus

Cancer of the liver

Cancer of the breast

Cancer of the lungs

Cancer of the liver

Inflammation of the blood and of tissues

M.H.

Cancer of the uterus

Gastrointestinal lymphoma

Gastrointestinal lymphoma

A form of breast cancer called breast-cancerous esophageal carcinoma is known as the most common form of breast cancer.

An examination of the breast of one or both of the following cancers will tell you that:

The cause of the disease is not known:

If you have any knowledge of this disease, I can give you a report, if you so desire. I shall try to convince you that the disease is not a thing that can be blamed upon your own actions. I know that it is a thing that can be blamed on the circumstances, but there is more danger here than there is here.

No reason is given why you should not go to the doctor about this thing. I will try to persuade you that this thing is the cause of your troubles, and that there is no reason to go out with a bad feeling about it.

The physician can tell you, from experience, that the breast of a patient that is sick is a kind of breast with its very small mammary glands that make the blood clotting place that will prevent it from forming a strong or thick or soft-shelled clot.

That the breast of a patient that is sick, from the way in which she was affected, is no breast; or

To make a false charge that the breast in her own breast is her own breast, she can never be called a breast and can be said to be the breast of another, if she are called the breast of her mother; it is in fact the breast of her own breast, which has been made by the breast.

For this reason she cannot be called a breast, but she will be called a breast, as is clear from the fact that the breast can be called “the breast of a woman,” so to speak; but when she speaks of a breast, she has done something wrong: but if the breast were an open or closed space that could hold it, she should be called a breast.

You have no power over the breast of a woman, but to say that she is yours, it is a great mistake to say it is yours.

It will be done with the utmost care to keep out of sight all the others that are in your sight, so that there may be some which will come to your view but will not be perceived by others, and that they may be of some use to you, if you keep away from their view.

When a woman says, “I am a breast,” her breast is said to be a breast that is not of my breast, but is of my breast: the breast, in this sense, is not my breast, but is the breast of a woman, the breast of my breast.

For the cause of breast cancer the breast of an animal is considered to be a strong


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

anic from the land and put them to death. It is a great cause of mischief and misery to these creatures.

Then, it will take them one day to find the way between the two worlds, for a deep sea shall appear between the sun and earth, and if that ocean shall have no water, the world shall die.

What is wrong with you, then, O, in thy own tongue, or with that of the world, as thou, O, dost say,

“O that I should die:

What doth I know thy death, my death?

But what doth I die by thy lips, and by the lips of men?”

“What is thy own sin, and your own death?

How much of this doth thou hast, O thy father’s wife,

In my mother’s womb, and her womb on thee:

Wherefore, when thou hast done this,

Thou art to be done with me!

Thy mother shall be gone, and thou shalt be to thy death.”

“O thou that dost thou,

In my youth and in my youth I did so,

Thou art, when thou shalt look upon my death,

To be dead with me:

For what dost thou do not do,

For what dost thou do not do?”

“You would wish me to give thee to thee,

But I would rather you die with me:

For my will is in my soul,

To put your body to death, and to let my body go.”

“But now what do you do?

And what do you do to my soul?

And what do you do to mine?

And how can I be saved,

By your hand, my will will or mine?”

“Thy soul shall die,” replied the angel, “but mine will die.”

“So, I see you with all my heart,
as the wind moves you on this day;

And what is I who did my own will

To change thy course,

To gain a new end by your means?”

“Thy mind and my heart,

are to make thee live!

That what thou dost by me,

Which is no other:

That what thou dost by me,

Which is my mind and my heart:

Thy will must die, if it shall die.”

“How can I be saved,

by your hand, my will or mine?”

“I shall die,” replied the angel, “if you please,

If you please, my will or mine,

To live and be saved in that body.

So the angel to-morrow morning,

She is the last of all in thy sorrow,

But to be sure is to have her in that tomb.”

“Then then dost thou not desire a bed for thy soul,

For if thou shalt not live by thy will,

A poor thing I should not eat,

This will of mine which is not yours:

For I have sinned, not by my will but by yours,

For I love you better than thy soul.

I love your mind, thy heart, thy soul;

O my soul, what do I hate,

When I should hate thee?

When I love thee?”

“What do I not hate?” replied the angel, “

What do you hate me,

Why do you love me so?

Why do you love me so?”

“O your soul is the first thing in thy mind,” replied the angel, “

Thy will be my first, and thy will the last;

Now, my soul is your will,

And your will, my will, my will, my will;

As that is how you should be your will.”

“And thou art thy father’s wife,

When thou art mine;

When thou shalt have my will,

When thou shalt have my will,

When thou shalt have mine,

When thou shalt have my will,

When thou shalt have mine,

When thou shalt have mine,

When thou shalt have mine,

When thou shalt have mine,

When thou shalt have mine.”

“Why dost thou not see the other,

My eyes have seen thee by thy lips,

And I fear that they shall never see thee?”

“Because my sight is of thy will,

When thou hast seen me,

To show the other’s true nature,

And I think of thee,

When thou hast


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

Mill, where his old house was built; where he went down to a lake and there sat upon a tree, looking from thence to his son, to make him see the truth of his words. He then asked, How many do you have that make you so proud as to see your wife and daughters so well endowed as to be their wives, when in their youth she bore them little children, but at last to be with them and give her no more, she so far did, that she took unto her husband her own child, that is to say, the young men of his youth.

Then he rose, and his son did say to him, How can he think of that?

“The truth is,” said he, “some have taken away my father’s liberty to have me with him, yet I have my father; they are his enemies, so I cannot see why I did not sooner destroy them. He had this great fear that they would come unto me, and I had him.

“What did I do, then?”

“The very next day I brought him a large stick of gold, which in case I were to be taken as I did in my father’s death, he would have given me his gold, and would have given me the gold he held in his hand.

“Now what of my father’s love, then, that he never loved me, when he told me, that the earth was full of him?”

“What then,” quoth the other, “why did he say that when he saw me he did not love me, that it was as yet a plain word?

“O my lord, he did love you,” quoth he, “let me tell him so, and we shall be like two sons, and one to the other the other to the other to the other to the other to the other.

“And that,” quoth he, “is as true as your lips when they kiss, as true as the tears in your eyes when you weep, as true as the sound when you do the same; but I am dead, for that in your eyes that which is not dead, must come to the same end as it came to me.

“When did this old friend come into this age?” quoth he.

“He did it so late; now he is old enough, he is ill and poor enough.”

“Why do you ask?” quoth she, as she began to raise herself up, “as if she were old?”

“Because I did not know him,” quoth he, “because he did not know me; therefore he died, and there lies me still.”

“Then why are you so so proud?”

“Because you can see now your son’s eye from this corner of his heart.

“And now how do you love me now, that, though you love me, yet you must love me like an old slave, not like a son.”

“How can I love thee? why, thou wast mine, and I had my son?”

“Why, then, thou hast not seen me.”

“I see thou see me,” quoth he, as he did, “if thou believe my mind, that is, if I be not the subject of all thy mind’s thoughts, then if I be in my mind then they both must be of all their thoughts.’

“Thou art not guilty of what he said; thou didst tell me, and then I tell thee my story.

“And yet thou art a coward, and thou didst say my story.

“And so you are one of those men to whom thou dost give a word; and if this then prove that I am not the truth, what shall I do?

“Then tell me then, for thou wilt find out what I am in thy heart.”

“So much, then,” quoth she, “I cannot see that you are my true enemy; but then shall I see, and then you shall know what I am, and then you shall tell me the truth about me.”

“Tell me then,” quoth he, “why didst thou say that the earth was full of him?

“Because I thought to lie with him, to bear him, and to show him how much I love him.”

“I love you, and you were mine, and you did so much that I was thyself.”

“You are not the true thing that I do, but if you believe me, then thou dost believe in me, and yet thou dost know not why I love you.”

“I love thee, thou didst swear this to me.”

“But thou know not why I love thee, and yet thou dost believe in me, and yet thou dost know not why I love


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

shitty as she tried to use that excuse to tell her ‘I love her more than she thinks she does’.

And then she had to be forced to do something like this again and again.

‘You know what I mean?’

‘What I mean is that you know I love you as well as you do,’ said she;

‘You know that I do, and you do well to love me. And when I think that you think I am too weak to love you, I ask you to make your thought not stop.’

‘I love you more than I thought I would love you,’ said I. ‘I will, as you say, in all my soul do love, and in my breast, my breast, my breast,’ and all those things I had just spoken, I said. ‘If the reason I want to love you would be that I can find love with you, then this letter must be sent in two parts to my letter-grip.’

‘This letter, you see,’ said she, ‘is so much greater than I can bear, that when I write it, all the world will remember it and it will look upon my hand with astonishment as well as awe, and will think it strange to put it in my hand.’

‘How strange,’ cried she; ‘why should I write this, for I have a feeling so strong that no one else can hear it?

‘Then I know my reason and reason and reason and reason, then I know my heart; but that which is to know them is to not know what is right.’

‘Well, then,’ said she, ‘let me get it out, for now, if this world will be to your liking, you cannot tell how much I am to love you.’

‘I wish to make myself more free,’ said she; ‘now, as far as I can see, it is not fair that I should have to bear your ill-gotten gifts, so that when your little little eyes are still gazing on me, then that ill-gotten gift which I can see will no longer have to bear my misdeeds.’

‘What you mean, ‘not fair,’ said I, ‘how fair!’

‘But that is so, but not to the sight of the eyes. For my eyes are not to see the sight of the world, nor that sight of that world to see, nor that sight of that world to see; they are, that, I hope, to make me see more often than you see, but to see less often than that which you make, the worse I am in your sight.’

‘Look out your eye,’ said she, ‘what will you see of that?’

‘That I have some reason to see,’ said she, ‘but, look out, my child, what kind of thing is it?’

‘It is something so horrible to be so near me that I can see your face.’

‘Ah, I see that too, but I am afraid that if I should ever see it, it would only be for the benefit of one of my own eyes. Ah, but for such a thing I think I am all lost.’

‘You see,’ said she, ‘and I do not see so much as you do. You know that I have not seen your face, but that I saw your face. You know that your face is one of those things which is not seen, but I can see it if I wish.’

‘Oh, it is not my face,’ quoth she; ‘it is not mine face; I want it to be mine.

‘Now, you see, my child, my little heart, your love is mine,’ quoth she; ‘the reason why I cannot see you is because I do not love you.

‘You see then what is meant by this, then,’ quoth I, ‘if your heart had seen that I had no love, I should not be afraid of you; but you should be afraid of me, for you know what I am to your child and to yours.’

‘Now you must see what I have done to your child and to yours,’ quoth she; ‘I want you to know the reason of your being afraid; and when I have done so, you will know what my heart and my heart do to you.’

‘But if this heart is not to be loved, it will not be so long as I live; and your heart must have a heart that is to live.

‘No,’ quoth I, ‘I will die, but, if I could do so, I would kill your heart, but my heart will die; for my heart is the best thing in the world.’

‘So that my heart, too, is to die, as well as your heart, if I do not kill your heart, for in that


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

hour (C)

2x 1 1-5

1x 1 1-5

1x 1 1-10

1x 1 1-10

1x 1 1-11

1x 1 1-15

1x 1 1-20

1x 1 1-25

1x 1 1-25

1x 1 1-30

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1x 1 1-50

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1x 1 1-75

1x 1 1-80

1x 1 1-90

1x 1 1-100

1x 1 1-120

1x 1 1-125

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1x 1 1-130

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1x 1 1-150

1x 1 1-200

1x 1 1-250

1x 1 1-280

1x 1 1-300

1x 1 1-400

1x 1 1-500

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1x 1 1-1000

1x 1 1-1100

1x 1 1-1200

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1x 1 1-1400

1x 1 1-1600

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1x 1 1-1900

1x 1 1-2100

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1x 1 1-9550

1x 1 1


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

Baldwin with the right side of the waistband, the lower half of the arm, and the left half of the breast.

A little further up the thigh, in the right thigh, in the right thigh-

And then, with the other leg, in the side-

On his neck he thrusts his foot through a hole, and

with his right hand he slings his hand round it,

And with a quick look his face seems so bent and

such as an arrow should thrust;

The rest of his body is as straight as a lion’s tongue

, and his head, like a cat’s, falls to the ground.

The second act of my act is the greatest of all.

I have now made all this my will.

I, having got thee at my neck,

Thy neck, thy breast, thy breast, thy right breast,

The breast’s breast, thy right breast, thy left breast, thy right breast;

The breast’s breast, thy breast, thy left breast, thy right breast,

The breast’s breast, thy breast, thy right breast, thy left breast, thy right breast;

The breast’s breast, thy breast, thy left breast, thy right breast, thy right breast;

The breast’s breast, thy breast, thy right breast, thy left breast, thy right breast, thy right breast;

The breast’s breast, thy breast, thy left breast, thy right breast, thy left breast, thy right breast;

And his breast is his whole world,

For ever am I in thy sight,

Nor do I feel the fear of thee

Nor hear thy prayers.

“No! thou shalt not love,

Love not my love.

For ever am I the way to my death:

For ever am I the way to hell.”

“O, my dear, that I am alive,

Behold what I shall tell you

Which is to-morrow my death hath done.”

“What?”

“To-morrow, that will I have for you!”

“Oh! no! I shall not say this.”

“That thou art my enemy!

“Why, thou art my enemy!”

“You will, I swear, be my foe.

The foe’s hand is now in your right hand

And when he touches my face, I will swear that

My face shall be in mine heart,

For I will never know thee, nor be thy friend,

Nor will thou trust my love

And hate me when thou dost wish me so much.”

“You dost fear me,

As I fear thee.

– I shall not make thee so,

For thy beauty alone,
Shall thy beauty have thee.”

“What then, then, do we not hate?”

“Why then, then,” quoth I,

“Why do I fear you,

That I should not see thee so much;

Even if I should see thee,

For I should not believe, that thou was thy mother.”

“What then,” quoth she,

“what then, then, dost thou dost see me so much?”

“Why then, then, do I love thee so much?”

“And now, to make thee so much more,

I want thee so much to believe that you love me.”

“The beauty that thou so lov’d,

For I cannot tell the truth but in spite of thee.”

“Who do you think he is,

Because he was born again in thee?”

“The beauty of your beauty,” quoth she;

“But I could not bear to see you.

It was the case that he was born so long ago,

He was a virgin born before thee.

“Why do we say,” quoth he,

“He was so long a virgin,

Even after he had slain me.”

“And what else, then, did we say,

“Well, I hate him,

Why did I love him so much,

But the thing I love,

The fact which is love is the most wretched,

The fact which is so much more wretched is the more miserable,

Which I must endure till I die.”

“So?” quoth she,

“How dare I tell you so;

If I say that he had not slain me,

But thou hast made me so afraid.

“But do I kill you, then,

And be I that I should die,

For I am a coward that I should


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

Bars. The first place it starts is to walk in front of that, or close that, where she stands; and she begins to give orders, and not to speak with him, but to keep her eye in her heart, or to say that her heart is not so well placed by the action, as it was by her hand, by her breast, by the weight of her body; but she is not so well placed to think that she has some strength to make her say that she did not say that.

“Now, the best answer of that, I should say, is the one of love, if that which I love is worth so much as a thousand shillings, and that I love that which I have love, and so, if it be true, why should I not say it, and to tell myself, that it will not be so?”

“That is true; but I will say, my love, I do say, I do love thee so much that I love you; and what else is it, then, that I can say of thee, I never say that thou cannot know the truth of my heart; but I do say that thou dost not know, but only that thou knowest it, for that the truth cannot have knowledge.

“And now, you see, I say, thou wilt not know how to love, but must know how to love well, for I do love you so much that I love thee so much that I do love thee so much that I am glad of your pain.

“Then, what dost thou say, that love hath a more tender heart than thy own heart? or is that truth, in my opinion, a little to be ashamed of?

“Why, then, did I not tell thy heart of this, when I saw the beauty of thy love, which that love gave thee, that thou, as thyself being your own, but being by myself yours, as mineself in me, and thus, as mine own in me, and thus in me, so that I myself myself, being your own, may say, that my own self is mine; my self is mine.

“Now, you see, love cannot have so many things; it would be so great a thing in the eyes of men, as this: it is not in thy sight, my love; it is in mine.

“Yet, I see, but that which thou dost say, if thou wilt know what it is, let me say this; for what is the same as thou cannot do it but by my own being my own, and my own being mine.

“When I began to look at thee, as thou didst in thy sight, thou gave me a view of me, but not of you; what would have been thy appearance, if not of this, when thou dost look at me, thou didst not see me, and didst not know how to look.

“But now, this thou dost tell, if thou wilt be willing, then thou wilt believe me, and believe me that I am not that thou have seen, that thou didst see me, but I did see thee and did see thee with that I had seen thee, and thou hast seen me with that which thou didst see.

“Now, then, my dear friend, thou dost ask of me, what dost thou not want of me to ask of thee,

“If I say, why should thou do so? I have been thus poor, and had so much treasure spent; but now it is so much, that, if thou dost want this, and to say this I should wish it did not have such a thing; and, if, I fear, and have this desire, let it go in your hand and go in mine; for it is I who love thee, and what love I did do was by mine own self, and my own self was mine.

“My poor friend, thou art gone, thou hast gone and gone away with me, and what is thy love, and why thou have not yet come back?

“Let us therefore not go through this journey in vain, for it will be a good thing for thee and my well-doing, for I do not know why thou hadst come, and why I have done so much so far away.

“If, therefore, thou wilt come up again, let us both stay to this bed, and let us then remain for a time, as we have both slept before and after this night, and let us rest then; for I have no way of knowing whether thou art in some deep sleep, or that thy body is still on;

“for it is for that I have that way, and for this I do say not to-morrow:

“But be assured, that I am not in


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

Melt a bunch of grass and grass to keep me away from the fire.
“And now I get up in this tent and find my husband and my child dead; and the dead shall find the new one, and there thou shalt kill it and burn it with fire.”
“And how long shall we wait, I ask?
‘My dear wife I swear to thee, ‘And I shall tell thee what shall I say to thee:
How in hell am I supposed to know what a great fool thou shalt do me!’
When thou wast so strong, how I was weak, how I was in need of thy help,
How my mind was lost in sorrow, I was in love, but my love was lost in hate,
And in love I thought of a black dove, and when she saw him she drew a knife with her fingers,
And she said to him, ‘I love you like this, love me like this.’
‘Well, what a beauty, then,’ said he, ‘I see why thou dost not do me any good; but if thy virtue should bring thee to the end,
Let me tell thee why thou dost make me, thou art of no worth,
The best kind of dost thou see me make? thou dost not love me as thou didst love me before!
What is thy true love, that thou shouldst love me as thou didst love me before?
What is not thy true love, that thou shouldst love me as thou didst love me before?
And yet I am such a poor thing that I cannot stand so much love in thee;
Though I am such a poor thing that thou dost not love me as thou didst love me before,
Thou dost not love me so much as I am but to be in thy way,
That shall know it thyself when thou art not a slave,
And thou that art not so;
thou art such as I am that thou dost not want,
Nor thou, my love, nor me, shall thou dost desire;
that thou wouldst love, or that thou wouldst desire,
But why did I not, that thou shouldst have my part;
I love thee so well, that I am so poor as to not love thee.
Therefore I tell thee, that thou knowest how to do thy duty,
And why have I forsaken thee,
For thou wouldst be so far from love,
Thou didst love me more than to be a slave,
Thou art so much like to be a slave,
that I do not think thy good self worth,
Yet if thou dost love me, I shall give thee something better,
Which I would have made better than thee;
I love thee so well, that I am so poor as not to love thee.
But thou dost not love me like a slave,
That thy poorself should be, and not be so much as I am
That in thy being there is no more,
Thy heart, thy soul, thy whole world,
Nor is thy heart my place, nor my mind’s place,
Neither the earth nor the sea, nor the sea’s face nor the heaven’s face;
Nor my love’s and my death’s love, my whole world’s love,
Nor my mind’s and my life’s love, my whole world’s love,
Or my love’s mind and my life’s life’s love, thy whole world’s love;
Or my mind and my life’s mind’s love, my whole world’s love, thy whole world’s love,
Thy soul, thy whole world’s love, thy whole world’s love, thy whole world’s love, thy whole world’s love,
And thy heart, thy whole world’s love, thy whole world’s love, thy whole world’s love, thy whole world’s love,
I know not, I know not how this love was made,
This love was made to be my love,
When love was made to be my love,
Love is made to be mine love,
As mine love is my love,
Love and my love are my love.
Love is not made to be true,
Love is not true,
Love is not true,
Love and not my love are my love.
Love is made to be true,
Love is not true,
Love is not true,
Love and not my love are my love.
The same cannot be true with thy false love,
Thou knowst, what is thy true love?
When thou dost love me, thou dost not love me like a slave.
Thy heart, thy soul, thy whole world,
Thy whole world, thou dost not love me as a slave.
Thy heart, thy whole world, thou dost not love me as a slave.


======== CHECKPOINT 011 OUTPUT # 002 ========

iddle, you know, I had this talk with him; but this time he is in the midst of his, and he did not leave him there, for I did give you my hand, and let you do my will, for what you are about to do is right, and I am not guilty, but you did not make me guilty of your wickedness; do not make me guilty of your good works, but I will not be able to do your evil, and make thee repent of the sins which you have committed and of your dishonourable deeds which you have done, and so will I do in return.

“And if you can then make a promise which I do not honour, I will not take you back;

My love thy words. But if thou do make such an example,

You may say, O, but as thou didst write the letter,

It must be a question of love.

But for me, it is not, and I do not give myself any thought;

For that, not, but it may be.

This is a part of my memory,
So that when I think of that, it is not true,
as if I did not read it,

For some reason I can hear what I hear,
And others I cannot hear.

But what a beauty did this woman say,

Which I was never afraid of;

Which I know you know, and love knows it.

Why, what would not you have me make me afraid of?

Wouldn’t your love not teach you what is your own?

Wouldn’t you, with me, do not write what is my own?

Why did not your love write to say,
“Dear mistress, you are my maid;

What will you say of me for your wife,

Thy name I cannot name, but in my heart it is mine,
Whose name is my mother, your husband’s.

When thy daughter, if ever thou be found,
‘ll show thee the way.

When thou hast heard of me, thou dost not find it in the book,

For it is true that thou hast seen the truth,

But if it be true that thou art wrong,
I will be his accuser,
that I will be revenged;

For that I am a fool.

When thou art in despair, I will do all I can to please thee.

If thou do not know what my heart wants,

I will not tell thee of what thou sayest,

But let the one whose soul hath a love,
show me what thou sayest to thee.

How can I love thee, but to you,
in your love I love thee,

But not for mine sake, but to your own?

I would be dead, and that I were dead

If thou art alive, and I am dead,

Who is my heart, who is not my body?

Let me say nothing to you,
but give me a little thought;

Let me love you more, and I will see you die.

When will the day come when thou wilt leave me,

If that my life do not last long,

If I do not live, I do not live;

If thou art dead, and there is no hope in heaven,

Then there will be no life to live.

Thy death must be of that which is dead;

And the time of thy youth will be of that which is alive.

But that life must be of the living;

And I have not the heart.

But if thou art alive, thou shalt know that this love is dead,

And so I will live to see thy death.

My life, I love you, O sweet one, and I do not have any interest in thee,
for I am sick, and I know not how thou canst live,

but I am not hungry, nor ill, nor ill-mannered;

When thou shalt know how my life is in me,

My life should be as if there were a man in heaven,

My life that would live in thee.

Then thou shalt know how I am dead:

I am alive, in my body, and there are no things left of me.

Now, all that thou hast, let it be this:

If it should be, and I were not living,

And thou art dead, the world, and I was dead,

And I am still alive, still, and I am still alive.

If thou art not dead, and I am alive,

I will be dead; but if I am alive,


======== CHECKPOINT 011 OUTPUT # 003 ========

knock out by a single, he can kill as many others. This is a well-known trick in every city of the world; in its own city they shall die; they may go out, but they shall be seen in the world, as dead as dead birds, when they die. But in this day a king is king, and a king is dead.

This is how she doth it, in the midst of the trees of the forest:

The rain, and in the thud of thunders and winds,

Is still a roaring fire of lightning to all night’s storms;

“In the hour when his hour comes, let his light be dimmed

With the light of night’s stars shining;

He shall, therefore, in all eternity be the sun

He doth seek in his power, and then he will look
From heaven that is the sun;

And I, like thee, will be the sun

When the day’s sun turns and comes,

That shines all the night’s fair beauty

In a place that I love:

As my nightly day doth set my love
And night’s night’s day doth stand,

He who dwells in this land hath not
a day to mourn, nor is he slain.

The sun shall not be there, but I shall stand
Upon that sun, and I will stand

In love’s shadow, and all the earth

I hold dear to be my refuge.

Thus then, my sweet day, that is his,

Is as I know it I love thee,

That will be my true love,

And if I should live a hundred years,

To do the wrong, and yet to live my true love

Will live that day where I am,

that thou knowest all this world to see

O my sweet heart, how sweet that thou art

that love to live thy self:

That I know you all,
that I love thee, and that I love thee

To whom I owe not to thee,
that I never can see thee,

but when thou sayst, I will believe thee;

My love, my dear life, my love,

I will bear this life, and never again kill it.

But I do fear that thy love,
In all these things which the earth holds

My love, that love I can never love

Not only love but love which I can never bear

And my love, mine love, that love that I cannot bear.

So I shall love the world

But do not hate the sun that burns it

But I shall hate every thing that lives,

Which in his power she will destroy.

So in all these thoughts I will not dwell

In the world, but in the day’s day.

The best day of my life

I can, shall I ever live

In love, in this world alone,

For I will never forget my love;

For I love, in the world alone,

My love, in love alone,

In love alone, my love, and in love alone.

I love thee for thou,
My love is mine;

The world that my love reigns

Calls on thee to love the world,

The world I know never to love

My true love is still a shadow;

As I live, I love thee.

‘Tis said in the verse that he who knows that thou hast loved

My body, thou art in mine,

The world I have made in thee.

When, from thy body, I can see

My heart is pure and pure,

When thy breath is foul and foul,

My heart is warm and warm,

My heart I breathe in love:

The love of thy breath is full,
And the love of thy blood is full.

My heart, when thou breathe,
Thy breath doth not cease,
and my breath do not cease.

‘Tis said to me, when thou dost not speak of

My sorrow that thou dost not love,

My sorrow that I am not worthily worthier,

My sorrow that I am worthless worthier.

Thy sorrow is worthless, thy sorrow is worthless,

But my sorrow is worthless, thy sorrow is worthless;

My sorrow is worthless, thy sorrow is worthless,

My sorrow is worthless, thy sorrow is worthless,

My sorrow is worthless, thy sorrow is worthless;

My sorrow is worthless, thy sorrow is worthless,

My sorrow


======== CHECKPOINT 011 OUTPUT # 004 ========

recommended to use this feature.

Tests are being run to confirm the following:

We found the command prompt and user credentials to be in a different location than the one we’d used. This can lead to issues on newer platforms, as we would have had the credentials set with the following command:

sudo systemctl daemon-reboot /mnt/default sudo /mnt/default/tcp

As noted before, this would cause the command prompt to ask for a random key in the registry in an attempt to prevent tampering.

This is what we do to prevent this behavior:

The default user is not configured to use the user’s name or passwords.

The default password for the current session is used as the password for the user.

This is not correct. We had the prompt set to a special character from the user’s command prompt:

This command would have the user type this as the user would type the name “user”.

This command would have the prompt set to a different user with the following command:

sudo systemctl daemon-reboot /mnt/default sudo /mnt/default/tcp

This command would prevent the current user from having access to the password of their current session:

This would not prevent the current user from being able to log in to their current session.

This command would prevent the user from being able to send and receive calls from other services, but not to others:

This command would prevent the user from being able to access the user database with other services, and would prevent any other process from doing so.

This command would prevent the current user from being able to send and receive the current message:

This command would prevent the user from being able to receive messages for hours:

This command would prevent the user from being able to view a message if it is not a message:

This command would prevent the user from being able to view a date:

This command would prevent the user from being able to view a date:

This command would prevent the user from being able to view a search engine for any search term.

In this example, I tried to see if this could be applied with the following command:

sudo systemctl daemon-reboot /mnt/default /mnt/default/tcp

This would cause the user to write the current session’s password to the current session’s current password.

This might not look bad, but in a long list of common examples, it might look bad.

How can I tell if this issue is a bug or not?

This is why it is necessary to check the prompt for the most recent time from the current session.

If you have done so, and still have no session, you can check the last time in the session for each of the changes that you made in your session.

If you have done so, then all other changes in your session are now unimportant to you, since each change is part of a larger change.

If you do not want this to occur to you, you can use the help command:

sudo help

This command will help you to make the change to your current session.

The command is not read as part of the new session.

To be able to find out what is wrong with your current session’s progress, you will need to run the following commands:

sudo systemctl daemon-reboot /mnt/default sudo /mnt/default/tcp

This will make your current session read the current session’s progress.

If you do not want this to occur to you, or are having trouble, you may be able to use this feature with:

sudo systemctl daemon-reboot /mnt/default sudo /mnt/default/tcp

This will prevent the current session’s progress from being read by other processes in the current session.

This command will prevent the current session’s progress from being read by other processes in the current session. If this command is not available, it will not prevent the session from being read.

In this example, I tried to see if this could be applied with the following command:

sudo systemctl daemon-reboot /mnt/default /mnt/default/tcp

This would cause the user to write the current session’s password to the current session’s current password.

If this did occur, then all other changes in your session are now unimportant to you, since each change is part of a larger change.

If you do not want this to occur to you, or are having trouble, you may be able to use this feature with:

sudo systemctl daemon-reboot /mnt/default /mnt/default/tcp

This will stop all other


======== CHECKPOINT 011 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Damage and damage, in fact, is no different from other things. In the second verse it is quite clear from his account that, being deceived, he was at first deceived, that there should be a fair, upright, and kind to him, and such to him as was virtuous. And, being therefore more virtuous than his friend, and less foolish than any of the rest of his friends, she might be deemed to possess all honour, the world, and all objects of affection, both at home and abroad.

And thus she did gain the power that he might obtain; for, by his deceiving and seducing her, he stole from her all honour, wealth, and influence.

“What now then?” replied she, “Is this the more false in all these? you cannot then have any virtue, or beauty in you, or even in your mind, and not even in your soul. You are but a slave of your mistress, and of your master, and of the law, and of the people, and of your nature; you are a thief and slave; so to the contrary you are a free man, which is, as a free man would be, your only slave in your nature, though you do make your own, and make yourself master of that slave, and hold of your own master, and hold them both in your power; you are therefore, as it were, a free man to do what he pleases, and you as your slave.”

“Then I suppose your heart’s desire is vain,” said she, “as you are proud, and you boast of your beauty and thy self’s beauty, and boast of your virtue and virtue, but do you not think you are content with your self, for if you could not live, and have lived, I have a duty to give you a living, and that to your own self is your duty.”

“If, then, I cannot do your wrong, you have a right to kill me. I have no more right than thou, I have no more right than you: my death is a ransom unto thee for thy honour and thy honour, and your honour and your honour is your honour; therefore I will kill thy life, and you avenge it, with this deed that I can do with thee.

“In my death I shall eat you; in mine, thou shalt eat my flesh; I am a free slave, which I cannot live, neither can any, unless I do it for thee; but in thy life you shall love me, that I may keep you alive, and keep you alive that I may kill thee; yet in my life thou shalt die, but in thy life shalt stay.

“Your life is, therefore, mine: for in mine, thou shalt live.

“The world is, therefore, but by the act of love, you are your neighbour, but not my self.

“I never will live, but for this, when thou art dead, when thou hast been, thou shalt not live.”

“Why?” said he, “if thou art dead, and thou art alive, my soul is my own; and if thou be alive, and I am dead, I will not live,” and therewith his death was a new world, and a new life.

The world, as it was, could never have been more false, than false to every false man.

CHAPTER VI

THE TURN OF THE PRISONER

“Wherefore then, if thy self be dead,

Thou shalt live; thou shalt love me, and thou shalt love me with thyself,

So thy self shalt kill my life, and thee shalt be damned.”

“What’s my shame?” he cried. “If it were that thy self should live

And thyself should live with thee, thou must never die; thou shalt live in the world, and not live with me.”

“Then, then, why dost thou live

This last part of thy self’s life I will destroy with the death,

And that by dying shall my self live as thou art in this life:

Now my self shall live, and thou shalt live with me;

And, when thou livest and die, my world shall not be disturbed.

“Then my soul be no more dead than thou, for if I die,
My self will be dead, and I will never live again.

“Wherefore then do I say, ‘What art thou’en in thy soul?

“Why, then, are thou not to me, to my friends and myself;

Who am I to him?”

“My self, my self, my self;

I am not a person, but my own self,

Which in thee hath the world, and which in thyself hath I lived.

“My soul


======== CHECKPOINT 012 OUTPUT # 001 ========

Desert. The first was on April 17, but as the storm had become severe, the people of the city were forced to remain behind, and the second was in the city of Aragorn, where there are many monuments.

The great king of the eastern world, which did not know of him till now, and whom some call one of the “greats,” having lost a husband to her sons, and now living like slaves, in a prison, had a fair day’s rest, but had not in the day, he being a child he did not learn, and having made a poor living, being compelled to work the old man’s day by all his wealth.

“This poor child is living a poor man, and as she is living so she is living the poor man’s child; so the father of this poor creature lives his poor life, and then is his poor life a poor creature, and a child’s poor child his poor, and he himself lives a poor man’s child, and his child’s poor child his poor, and then a child’s poor man’s child his poor, and so he lives another’s poor life and a poor man’s poor.

“So then a child, not yet grown old, goes to fight with his father in his battle; but when the child cries out, the young man tells him to leave his child at home, and to go to the city, where his father will give the child a kind and pleasing name, for the time shall come that the man that did not tell shall be found.

“Then the young prince takes pity on the child, and gives him to his father, whereupon he dies.”

“A boy, not yet grown, dies by the hand of his father, for he did not tell him of this death, and so did not tell him of it either to make him do evil for his father or to get rid of his father.

“But now, with his help, a plague comes out of the country and kills all the inhabitants.

“My father gave me a letter to tell me, ‘That you should be contented and with health to give me a new body, when you shall give my body to them as a ransom, and then will your kind be your prey.’

“‘So do I now wish you to do that,’ replied his mother, ‘let us die and be like other men, for we are not of such beauty as they are of beauty to see and hear, and to smell and taste the odour of the smell of the body which they so often possess; so therefore do I in my heart, that I might think that you are not in the state to make them ill, but to do some good to their health.’

“‘Do it, my dear sister,’ quoth the father, ‘for you are all of such beauty to the eye, which of a good eye is better than any others, and I love to see that the sight is of the best; then be a true painter and paint it well, and you will paint it well as well.’

“‘And in your painting,’ quoth he, ‘will I put out my poor hand, as do you now with my own hand?’

“‘But,” quoth he, “your painting may well be the better, though it may do so wrong, if you are so willing and able, that it makes all your work better, but the best done should never be done at all.”

“‘But a good painter, and a good painting, are two different things,” quoth he, “and if you did paint in them, how many times would you see such as did not live with those whom you did live with, but did not live with those whom you did not live with, and yet in them were living?

“‘To what purpose should we ask for this letter?’ quoth he, ‘let us make a new life for our old, so that their life may have more beauty; but let them live in what may be a better life, but in what cannot be?’

“‘And what of those who have no other means of living, but have no one?” quoth he, “who then live in misery and in danger, but in fear?”

“‘But why should I not seek this? I could not have had your letters; I could not have had your arms; I could not have had your life.’

“‘But I know what you tell me,’ quoth he, ‘is true, and I am well disposed of that which I will bear, and this I have learned that it is true of my heart and of yours.’

“‘Well! I know my heart well,” quoth he, “and it will not be of that I am born of, but it will be of you that I am born of.”

“No, I have not made it of yours; but now, when I


======== CHECKPOINT 012 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Their (P.C.) (A.D.)

Cynthia

Temptation on earth;

I am the sun,

Which bears all that hath not
Till the world hath seen
And shall not see.

I am their true,

Their false,

Their false,

Their false,

Their false,

Their false,

Their false,

Their false,

Their false,

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Their false,

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Their false,

Their false,

Their false,

Their false,

Their false,

Their false,

Their false,

Their false,

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Their false,

Their false,

Their false,

Their false,

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Their false,

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Their false,

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Their false,

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======== CHECKPOINT 012 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Iran in a letter from the United Nations, which the United States says may be “an attack on all our troops, our wealth, our sovereignty and our freedom.”

“So great are their crimes against us as against our own,” he added, “that they cannot be cured, though not by the use of such force.”

Then he began to speak with a sort of fear, which the young monarch had not yet seen, and which he did not have the time to restrain himself from speaking more.

“Have not I, that they may not be blamed for their being wicked?”

“I am sorry that you might be so proud, and so bold,” said he, “for I myself am so bold, and I am so bold, to say so openly that you may be so bold, and so brave!

“My mother, my brother, and the other children of the earth, are afraid, they are afraid of me, and they are afraid of me, and they are afraid of thee, and thou art the queen of them all, thou art the queen of them all!

“What hast thou done for me, that thou art so so proud? what have I done for thee, that thou art so proud?

“The old woman of thy youth was one of the worst enemies of your country, and you must not kill her, for her was not afraid of you; she knew not why you did it.

“And what, then, are the wounds you are going to inflict upon the living one, for it is not one that can do much harm to you?

“The night that my fair queen shall be dead, which in the night, is my night, shall still have time to look at the day.”

And then all he said was, “O fool! behold, I cannot be so happy, as thou hast done to prove me wrong.

“Let me go then, with all haste to make this acquaintance.”

“O my lord! if thou dost not see my face, I do not believe it myself.

“And to-morrow I shall be afraid, that thou shouldst go by night to-morrow to be sure that all is right, and that there is no excuse.

“That all, therefore, must be the reason, for I did deceive you, and I did deceive thee.

“Why, do not thy pride appear as an injury, when you are so much deceived in my heart, by my true faith and true character?

“I did deceive thee, and, if thou dost be so poor, thou wilt do better to me, and I shall live in thy love.”

“Whence dost thou then take the course of deceiving the eye with such an impudence, and thou see that thou art not, but that thou art such a fool that I dare not see?

“O, what do you think of it, but of this fool?”

“I, I cannot, but I have a bad feeling, and then I am weak, and weak as well as strong;

“What then, then, do thou think of my being poor, as well as weak?

“For the fool’s sake, if thou wouldst not kill me, that I should die at once,

And kill myself from my heart, for I am not willing to take his life from thee.

“If you did not kill me with my eyes, thou art my deceiver, and that thou art not thy husband,

And if I did not kill thee by your hand, thou shalt not be thy husband;

But if thou shouldst kill me by your hand, thou shalt not be my wife;

If thou do not kill me, and I do not die, thou shalt not be my wife.

“And now, as thou art my slave, thou hast not given me any other slave than me;

But, to be that slave I cannot be;

But, my own slave, to be mine, I must have, that they may be mine.

And thou art my slave, my servant, my son,
I must have, that all may be my love.”

“So long as thou hast the honour, so long as thou hast my trust,

Until I have done this thing and done the deed in all my heart,

Then thou shalt not have the honour of this man.

“But do thou not know what I do, then, to be in so strong a desire,

And so I do, then, to be like this, to be so weak,

That thou shouldst die in my favour, to do what thou wilt not,

That thy love should be no better than mine,

Or be like this, to be worse than mine.


======== CHECKPOINT 012 OUTPUT # 004 ========

Just of my kind, to thee I have begun to think, to thee will I not be seen,
Whose brow I saw then is gone, and her face a misty moon,
To whose sight, if ever thou sayst, my eyes did shine with tears.
Thou art as though thou dost not know,
Or that I may be that I do not know,
But if thou sayst it is my true, I may not be told,
Or that I may not be, but what thou sayth is my true,
Whilst I are the other side of thy tale!
That if I was so poor and ill,
That I might not be so well spent,
To tell thee I was poor and ill, that my love, my love,
Would kill thee to keep that, in spite of it,
That I should not be well spent!
Why didst thou love me so much so?
And if thou didst love me so much,
I think I should love thee well, and that in spite
of thee be more poor and ill,
That in spite of thee be more rich and better,
And I should not have so many poor and ill,
that to me be so much so worthless,
In spite of thee in thy self being better,
I think that thou didst love me so much,
And then I would say, thou dost love me so much more!
‘I knew thee with some false words,
That I knew not all of thy misfortunes,
But some of their offences are mine own fault,
And my fault is my fault.
But it is I who can write them out,
And then it shall be done, I believe;
And if it be done, that my time shall be spent,
Then I will write to thee with a kiss,
For this I have sent thee from thee,
And with this thou shalt be free for ever to use.
And now, when thou have done me honour,
Thou shalt do me this, this time I must return to this,
That I may be so far away from all of thy crimes,
That, like a dog-snatcher, thou mightst see
Thou willst see me with a more sweet delight!
And now I shall begin to do thee well,
For this I do not know, nor that I do,
Since I am still alive and still living:
And now, when thou wilt come again to me,
I shall see thou’st me as yet alive,
With this you do to see me now live.
But to this, if you do this, I may not return,
But only this I do tell thee to write,
This I am to write to thee again,
And this you will write again for the sake of me.
Now I should have to wait for thee if thou wilt show me,
The night will not be the night before night!
When night comes and day comes, the heavens shall have his shadow;
And so will the night fall, and every thing shall seem dark;
When day comes and night comes, the sky shall never seem to rise;
Or the sun in his shining mantle will stay.
Yet it will not remain the day, nor do I remember it;
And when I do, thou shalt not remember it.
Therefore I say, thou hast not done me wrong,
But have wronged me all that thou didst wrong:
that I should kill thee, and that I should burn thee alive.
And thou hast wronged me all that thou didst wrong,
For I should have done thee to be wrong,
that I should have done thee to have burned thee alive,
When thou didst make of thy part of all this meekness,
And thou gave me thy parts to use,
And to spend on thee the spoil of death.
This time I shall not tell thee where I go;
But I shall tell thee where I have gone,
And when I have gone, I shall show thee where I have gone.
Thou art dead, not knowing my true self!
And thou hast wronged me all that thou didst wrong.
For thou hast not known, for thy misfortunes didst thou see!
Yet, in thy self I can see what thee knowest not.
Now when thou art gone, it was with a fearful fear
And fearful of the thing to come.
O, the night will not be the day before night.
Thus with the night came a voice that had seemed,
Like his cries from his chamber, but louder and more vehement:
This, too, being the loud cry of a dead child,
So did a great flood wash the world with rain.
And now with the flood, again all water


======== CHECKPOINT 012 OUTPUT # 005 ========

exile, she would take their revenge upon her enemies.

They began to break his bonds of affection, and break his bonds of love; for he had lost both his wife and their trust in him.

But he would not endure them, and did not think well of them till he saw the time of their decease, that time that they were at liberty to destroy him.

And he made a promise of the power of his love to his mistress, that she should show him her favour, if she would not give him more.

This she did with her own will, and with such a eagerness as the sun and moon seem to bear, that she did not dare make an attempt;

For that she should show her love in her own part, did she find that she did not make a plea;

Her lust was no excuse of her pride,
so much for the pleasure that they had, she did her best to break the bonds of her trust,

And to be found her not, for she had not made the bonds of love and love as it was made:

Yet, when she had come again into the house, there was a door with his hand to allow her passage.

“Lo, for my sake,” quoth she, “let him be the master.”

And all eyes, being blinded by the image of his self, she saw the door where he had gone through,
That he was so gone, that she was afraid he was gone again.

He was gone to the temple where his son was now,
For his love of his mother had taken away his love of him,
For her mother she should have kept his eyes, but she had never shown it.

“O, my dear darling,” quoth she; “let him be my mistress, but I will not hold him nor my child,
As his love was his desire and mine to her.

And then I will give her more for her as the best I have in my heart;

Her beauty is full of truth; and my heart is pure from heart.”

“For it is my beloved that I have so esteemed,

Which is to him to be my object in my day,

As it is mine in mine day that you should fear it,

If I shall have more than that I do with you;

For my love hath been to her that she was love’s own,

And now the time will be the time for it to be made of my own use,

What should I do with him, what should I do with him,

I think I should go, I think I should go, I think I should go.

For the time is not the time to tell you what is but the past;

The time of all your troubles is not all in vain,
for you are mine, the time of all your woes is not all mine.

This my poor daughter, that is my true love,
is as my wife of my youth,
that I cannot but praise;

I can not thank for his love for my youth,
But I love his love’s love so dearly,
that I am of his eye;

‘Twain thou that he should say,
O, my dear, it was for thee
That thou didst leave that love to me:
to thee is a treasure of joy!
‘That thou, my son, didst destroy the time
And didst take the spoil from me:
“How can thy beauty not show thee so much pride,
When I look upon thy beauty,
Which all my eyes see so often?
When thou wast thy first to see me,
And saw me in the moonless night,
that night which I should find me again:
And it would not have been mine eyes to look upon thee,
But thy self could see me again,
And I would never leave him, but if my eyes were to be seen
With you now, I should be thou too.”

“No, my dear, your eye will not see thee,
For you cannot see me, for thou dost not see
The self that my sight cannot perceive,
If mine eye did not see thee,
And it did not know thee as well;
‘Twixt them, thou shalt all-seeing look,
And all-seeing myself shall show me the self.

“What of it, then, are you to blame for what I do,
How didst thou kill me, that I should have so gone,
That I should have so loved thee so dear?

Why, then, didst thou kill me?” quoth he, “at that I should have so loved thee so dear?

O, thou art not that I am,
that I am not


======== CHECKPOINT 013 OUTPUT # 001 ========

outward to that part of the earth which dwells in the sea; for this place is in the earth as the water in a glass; but for the purpose of our worship in it, that the sun should not fall on the earth, or that the sea should come to rest in it, yet this should be in our view; that they should say:

Let my name alone be made sacred unto you.

Thy mind hath done me mischief,

Thy head is bare, thy tongue full of shame,

Thy tongue in thy mouth is not the good and true,
Thy tongue in thy mouth is a curse that should ever stain thyself.

And thou wilt not think, nor speak, nor act,
But with a view to thy life’s end.

“As thou art, I trust not to give thee my due,
Nor ever to make myself free from that duty I should have,
Nor to lend me my own in return,
Nor ever to give me his love, nor mine own:
Nor ever to lend to a stranger a friend’s heart,
Or to a debtor a stranger’s debtor’s debtor,
And all this to show thee wrong,
O thou what, how far we stand?
The earth hath a beauty,
And all that beauty in it contains,
Which to thy heart is as the sea hath a heart:
Whose side of it hath no place? wherefore dost thou dost not seek,
To hide thy beauty in a crooked shape?
For if thou art rich, then this rich, this rich, this rich,
To borrow from thy will, thou shalt make,
That thou mayst make for ever a recompense.

For this recompense will make thy will a thousandfold greater;
That is not what thy mind, and thy mind’s will,
Were this thing done by any of them,
They would have done it, they would have done it more,
Which is a matter of ours.

And what hath thou been, and what dost thou owe me,
Who shall not have my goods of labour,
I shall not live with a beggar,
And never again my husband, nor my dear friend:
Whose right I owe thee, wherefore dost thou not owe me?
No, no, no, no, no.

But as thou art done by me, that the world may know me,
The world might know my life, the world might know my state,
And that it might know every thing that we tell about thee:
Thou art my good man’s wife and my mistress’s slave,
And all my parts as my heart is mine.

Whose heart is full of faults, whose parts are the same?

Who is so cruel that he makes them all so alike?
Who is so cruel that he breaks their arms?
Who is so rude that he steals their things,
As if they were in one hand his store;
Whose hand is so soft and unwholesome that it can not be touched,
That every thing being touched would be gone.

Who doeth these things, that these things seem not to be,
But in their own right dost to do the world in it;
And that is how thou shalt see them to know them,
For I am not my life, but life in thee.

Thou shalt not live with a beggar,
Who is my slave and a man to a beggar;
And yet he that pays for my good,
Will have no other use than that which thou gave.

“I see thy face, I see thy eye, I see thy tongue,
But do thou not live with a beggar,
Yet have no other use than that which thou gave;
Yet in thy eyes shall I see my love shine forth,
But if thou have a thousand more thy self worth,
Let the beauty which thou have given be mine,
And this beauty shall have a thousand more thy self worth,
And this self worth shall have a thousand more thy self worth,
But then I, whose love is worth no more than thy beauty,
My love shall not be the one that lies with me.”

Thence on, she going down, she was so kind and gentle
That they forgot her so much.

‘How didst thou not give thy heart as it belongs,
For with thy lips so sweet a kiss doth be felt?

Which then my love would have made, if the lips of my heart had not known it,
Had not she been so kind and gentle,
With which she should have made herself known,
She might have made me a husband in all my affairs;
For by her tender lips the world might have seen,
Which beauty might have seen


======== CHECKPOINT 013 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Correction)

“And she will kill her dead husband and her house?”

“That’ll make you a traitor and a thief,

And make me a fool, and tell your lie!”

“What did you say?”

“My father’s love for me was greater,
That his love for you is less,
That thy shame be a lesson to all.

“And if I had him I should be your friend,
For that my death would be more painful than life,
If death did love me, it’s to make me sick:
The sun and my cold shall be the new sun’s light;
Like a black-bearded man will be the moon’s new moon;
The stars themselves are new stars’ stars;
They look like new moon-crowned stars.
So he thinks, when his eyes deceive him,
The stars of all things he saw them in;
‘My dear friend, let it not be thought of,
That he could bear all these stars;
But that there is no night-star,
that no cloud, nor clouds, nor clouds,
In his eyes can his vision see,
When no cloud, nor clouds, nor clouds,
Is there no sky but the sun:
His eye looks upon my face,
And when his eye looks upon my face,
His eye looks on me and the day I sleep,
So then I cannot see you but on him,
And he’s asleep, he’s awake;
He’s gone, he’s gone;
He’s gone, he’s gone,
And if you’ll be true to him,
I will make him proud, and then thou shalt be my king.
“Then let the fire fly up, and let it be quenched;
As you did when she doth sit up,
And did the fire with you, and then all was black;
Even all of it seemed white.
Her eyes were shining with fire, her lips were pale,
And her breath was white and soft,
Her eyes were red and deep-set.
And I can see, she can see, but I cannot do,
She doth not know; she doth not know,
And yet she may see, and yet I cannot see.
She doth not hear my name, nor I can hear her voice,
Yet she may hear me, but I cannot hear her voice,
nor I can hear her voice.
“And she doth not be angry with thee,
If thou art angry, then I am proud;
For I am happy, and I am happy,
She doth not do justice,
But she doth not believe me;
And yet she may not believe me,
She doth not say, but I do not speak:
That thou hast sent me this disgrace,
That thou have doth to die,
That thou hast doth to live,
That thou hast doth to live, and my death shall not do;
But let it not be thought of,
That I should die, and that I should die,
That I should die, and my death shall not do;
Let not be idle, that I may live
and die;
But if thou art idle, thou art not idle.
Let every thing be to him to whom he shall live,
For the better life in him is,
The worse life in him is,
The better life in him is.
If thou art not thou, I will tell thee so,
And then, when I shall know thee, thou shalt know.
She doth not love me, nor thou wilt,
But I am guilty, and thou shalt not be my friend;
But thou art guilty, and thou shalt not be my friend;
And if I am not guilty, I am not guilty;
But thou art not my friend, and thou shalt not be my friend;
Thou shalt not love me, neither thou wilt I,
Thou shalt not love me, nor thou wilt I,
thou shalt not be my friend.
Thus, she did tell him,
“My name’s love is dear, and thy love is poor;
My friend’s love is not dear.
Be not that my friend, and I love not that thy name may be.
Let him not be that my friend,
For he shall see that my friend is still;
If I should have been a friend, I should have died;
He doth not love me, nor he doth love me,
My death shall not do, nor I doth live;
Let my death be, and then thou shalt live.
“But if thou art not thou, I will make thee a fool;
But if thou art not, I will make thee a liar;
Let


======== CHECKPOINT 013 OUTPUT # 003 ========

fled the city, he brought all the old man’s arms, and his horse, and made him swear unto them, that they would not trespass against his name, but might be sworn unto his death.
And when they did so, they said: ‘We have not given this deed, and that is to be done.
‘If thou wilt, we have none to trust in thee:
‘If thou wilt, I will not give you any, but for him that hath made this wish;
‘if thou wilt, I will not give you no:
‘And if thou wilt, I will make no more of thee, but of mine own.
‘Thus he did that he might say this unto the others.
‘O thou fool, my eyes, for I have done so unto thee,
‘And my words, for thy sight I have no doubt made true,
And for your tongue I have no doubt made false.
-Thou art thou that I have, and no one else hath done this deed;
-But you cannot be guilty of crime, neither can my heart be guilty.
-For when the law hath struck down the sin,
Or when the thief hath not fled,
Or when thou art a thief, there is no need for thy name:
And for this purpose thou must not fear death:
-Nor shall I in my mind swear, but shalt swear,
‘That I did the deed of murder,
And the crime thereof shall not stand:
And that which he did is a proof, if thou dost prove me wrong,
This is my love. ‘What is it, that you say, and what did I do?
-Thy eyes have been blinded,
And the tongue of my heart hath seen the thing on my face,
That I can not bear to see thee.
-So when he that is not the thief’s doer hath taken up my ransom,
Then let me swear unto thee, ‘The day shall come when thou shalt show me this:
‘Look I, my soul, that thou art the thief’s thief.
And thus I do swear I have never done this deed,
As the law hath put my promise of ransom upon thy lips;
And I do swear to thee, that I shall do it with thee:
-For my self, my life, my honour, my shame, my shame must thou make thy face
That no one shall steal thee away, nor be thy bail:
thyself thou art that I do, and so I will not pay thee my ransom,
So in this thy shame thou shalt be, so I will not steal thee away;
As my life, my life, my honour, my shame, my shame, my shame
mayst thou do it in this manner:
-If thou wilt make this a true deed, and I give thee an heir,
My name should thou not say, I have been thy slave:
-If thou wilt make this a false deed, and I do not give thee an heir,
This thy name should I not say, I have been thy slave.
-Therefore the deed which I have done hath done him my shame,
Thy pride was so strong with her that she made her body a bed of roses,
To be her mistress, she had to hold it with her hand.
O then should I not swear to the deed, my heart should be so strong,
That I should not confess my love to her, and she should not hear it;
Thy hand hath been tied upon mine breast; my breast hath bound upon mine breast.
-Thy love, my heart, my heart hath sworn the deed to me;
And my heart hath sworn that I shall confess it,
To bear to her my sins, and she will bear mine back,
And when she hears of my treason, she will swear to me,
And do thou so and swear that thou art not my slave,
Thy love hath committed this deed on thy part, to show that I will not pay thee my ransom,
For I have promised to thee, thy life, and my shame,
And I do swear that I will not pay thee my ransom.
-But thou art not that I have done it, but am that I did it,
Thy blood, thy blood is my breath, thy blood is my soul.
-If thou wilt, my heart shouldst not burn with fire;
‘If thou wilt, my heart would not burn with fire;
But thy blood is my fire, thy blood is mine.
-That he that hath done this deed upon my life
Must have done it on my life, and then would not have done it;
He must have done it to steal away my life,
To steal away my heart, my heart, my life, my life,


======== CHECKPOINT 013 OUTPUT # 004 ========

thunder for three days in the summer.

“Happily I have heard him in the night.

It should not be so.

But I must have her to be a woe

Who in all this time,

The man knows her true love,

Who can deny this beauty.

Now, my beloved, when I kiss you,

How long have you had this love?

The night is gone, and now I wake

For this reason of love,
my heart is cold in the cold.

He goes to her bed, and takes her to bed

And that he sits and looks at her;

And that when he comes to bed,
her eyes are not in his sight;
He goes down, and she falls asleep.

She thinks nothing of him, she loves nothing,
But she sleeps the night in bed.

When he comes to bed, and she feels cold,
He takes her to bed.

She sees him with her, and hears his cry.

“What are you doing,

The maid who slept for thee?”

“Why, she did not have any sleep at all;
She began to sing for thee.

What will I do for thee now?

No one but your son, my love,
When thou wilt give to his soul,
The love he makes me shall have:
he shall leave to him what he would have,
But he himself will stay in him:
I say, I will love thee, for thou hast been
But in me I would not bear
That he had been his husband.

This will do it, for I have done it with the intent
To give thee a kiss,
And this shall do it all day, with the intent
To let you know of my sorrows that I suffer.”

He goes to bed, but not the thought of her cold;

She feels that she is awake;

Her eyes are not, nor are she able to see;

Her breath is gone from her lips;
her eyes appear not, but do not appear;

And then she looks up, and sees the night

She should have gone and gone away:

Yet she did not see the night,
And now they all seem gone,
And they seem gone again.

Her eyes look down to his face, and he goes away.

The love which is still in her eyes
Is still not in him, nor is she alive.

When the door opens, it comes in,
And she hears him speaking;
His voice is loud, and it sings.

“Look on that beautiful face of mine,
Which makes me happy, and thou art happy
And the best of men.”

“This I see, not but what I see,”

She puts away her head, and takes her hand;
Then she looks with pity on his face,
And she is sure to be his friend.

“You will never say so, sweet love,
Nor to my heart, nor to my heart’s heart’s heart,
I can speak my mind to thee.

Since she had such a good excuse for speaking,
And I am not so hard-hearted as to complain
The false-hearted,
Which makes me so hard-hearted,
That I might be guilty of thy love,
My love, my love, my love’s love,
The love of thy love and thy love’s love.

When she hears me,
She cries for him,
She takes him by the hand and leads him to the window.

“No, my love,” says he, “do not speak to me,
But let him take my hand and see thee.

“This is not my hand that bears thee,
To be thou thy self’s debtor.”

“I may not be your debtor, my friend,” replies he.

“But as a debtor I would like to be,
But as a debtor I should love to love
And so I should love to love to love.

I’ll have no other self, for I did my best,
And no self is my debtor.

When thou art my debtor, behold that my soul remains,
And thou my dear friend’s, and my dear friend’s
And let me be his debtor;

If thou willest live, be his debtor and live to live.

“My dear friend, what love did I learn
From that love that hath no self,
Which I know from thy lips is false.

How can my heart be more beautiful than this,
When in love I think I have it as in self;
That in love I will not be my self,
When in


======== CHECKPOINT 013 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Rank of one or two children, or in a case of unhygienic strife, to be counted the most noble among the rest of them; but as they did not make use of it, they did not show what an honour or advantage, if they lived with him, he deserved. ‘I may not have made your father, my father, my father,’ quoth he; ‘if you have, you have not done.’ I would say that in my part of the world I have not seen your father; and I have heard that he was the most virtuous man ever to appear, even though my dear friend’s face hath been removed, for this reason my dear friend’s heart has been buried. When I hear this, and I know not what, that my dear friend must confess that this was a sad and unprofitable day, and that my dear friend did wrong, and this, that your mother would have done him wrong.

My dear friend, your good-will with a kind spirit, your most humble self, may be the foundation of a good house, but not a kind, simple, happy house. I wish it to be, but not to be, and do not, but to live, and yet die, that which you deserve to make your best-taken love, and give back in your own heart, and love to that which is lost or dishonourable in your mind.

I say then that I desire your pardon, and if you like, I should wish you good fortune, and have you be my friend.

‘And that you may live, do live,’ quoth she, ‘and live till I make use of you, as if that which I do do, must have done with your aid, for the sake of that which you now have.

‘What will I do with you, therefore, when I have had more than I have from you, so that you are not my enemies?

‘You see, my dear friend, when your friend appears, with his head and his arms, you are at once his enemy, and you in him that is not his friend; you, your friend, who doth kill, and die, and live, and live, and live with a stranger that doth be a stranger, you were my friend, and do I kill him that doth die by me?

‘If you had gone, I would have put in your name your death; you did not kill me, but live by me.

‘That you have left, I will bear your blood, and give it you.

‘I say to your dear friend that I am a kind person, and that I am willing to carry a knife on your back, and kill you, and kill you in a knife in my hand; that you will not take my life, nor your friend’s death, nor my blood, nor your love, nor my heart’s life-giving grace, nor my love’s love’s will.

‘If I die, if thou hast seen my face, thy heart is dead, and thy life dead.

‘I say that by the eyes of my friend to him who hath done this, thou must say, ‘Behold, this is my name, and this is mine; and thou must see me, my love, thy life, and thy will;

‘As thou art now, and as thou wast before, thou dost not live till I tell thee, O poor girl, that it is mine that hath told thee,

And that thou art me to be thyself, and as thou art now, and as thou art now, it is mine, and not mine, and not mine.’

This was, in her mind’s eye, a fearful and sorrowful cry, which had not, in any way, been heard, and still could not have been heard.

Then she saw the dreadful and horrible picture on the walls, which had been her love, and on the walls of her room, which had been her husband’s heart.

‘But what shall I do with thee, then, when he is dead, and he not alive, and all that lies between me and him, where thy eye is in?

‘Who is to die? for all, but my dear friend,

‘And why do thou tell me, why hast thou forsaken my love, and left me?

‘That my love did kill him! for that my love did kill him!

‘What are thy own deeds, my beloved friend, but that of me?

My dear friend, if I die, I do not kill you, and yet kill you,

My beloved friend, if I die, I do not kill you;

My beloved friend, if I die, I do not kill you:

‘My dear friend, if thou didst kill him,

Th


======== CHECKPOINT 014 OUTPUT # 001 ========

Dur.
“Ah, good gracious,” quoth he, “I shall have a good day, with my dear friends, not too soon to return from my visit, to whom I must inform them, that your father-in-law hath been absent, and that she hath not yet come, but to see him, with what a surprise she will make his heart do the same thing in spite of it. ‘My dear friend,’ quoth she, ‘there is not so well said, but yet such a love will live!
“I love a man, to whom I have sworn this truth is true, which I have sworn no part in. I love my love, and that which I do not possess, will have more, more than any of these things.
“But this love, that is not so so well-revered, but so strong, must be broken!
“This is my love, my love, for whom all lies can not be found.
“My love, my love, my love, is not a true heart, but a hollow, broken heart.
“It is not my love, nor my love, nor mine self, nor the one who holds it, nor my own heart, nor my heart, nor the one who looks upon it; but the true, that is, true, true, that which he bears, and which he gives, and to whom he bears it, he hath not; therefore I do swear this by my trust.
“This is my love, my love, my love; in thy love, my love, in thy love, my love, the best friend of mine.
“Therefore if thou dost have my friend, thou shalt have mine friend.
“The love that I do not know, thy friend thy friend; thy friend’s friend thy friend, thy friend’s friend, thy friend’s friend; thy friend’s friend’s friend, thy friend’s friend, thy friend’s friend’s friend, thy friend’s friend, thy friend’s friend, thy friend’s friend, thy friend’s friend, thy friend’s friend, thy friend’s friend, thy friend’s friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou dost have mine friend; thou dost have mine friend, thou


======== CHECKPOINT 014 OUTPUT # 002 ========

aspiring from my heart to my soul; the thing was as if the world had seen, for she, and for me, all with her.
“Then she did not know, I will say, that she did not see the earth, and to-day she lives; but the thing with a thousand faces to me remains.
“And then I did say to her, ‘Be sober, if thou art guilty of all crimes.’
“Then did she bequeath herself to the world; for she did not know in herself the crime of her eyes; but that she might have it herself, so that she might be guilty of the wrong she has done.
“She gave me this,
And I did think to myself what might be the cause of her misfortunes,
And how to do her an end was that I should be sorry;
That this should be the end of my sins, that it should be my fault I should make this a gain.
“And yet she is quite so; but in me she is like a serpent, but so strong,
So weak, so cunning, so cruel:
In her womb she gives birth to the world.
And thus to me did my father make mine father give thee a name,
A name not only of mine in the world, but of every other creature,
For as my name was my name, my self shall be mine,
That my love may be the true love which thyself hath,
Thy self shall be mine: and the world shall know of my self’s self.’
‘Who then then is he not thou in my mind,
He is the true father, that I did bring thee by thy side;
‘This, in a thousand ways, he had to do, for his own self:
‘”And then, that my name is not on him, he takes him by the hand:
“And this, I do want, and do want of thee for my love.”
“No, thou art not mine, no, my love,
But not in me, not the least thing, and thou hast no love but mine:
Thou art no better than the one that thyself takes from me,
But in me, my love is a stranger and a stranger unto thee:
I am your father, my son, and therefore thou hast no love,
Nor shouldst thou not think that thou art my son,
Thyself and me are thy son’s.”
And thus she did all in a daze,
But the earth did not think of that,
And the deep she thought did not think to that,
Her body did think of her that was but living;
And in her, my eye did see all things, but she,
Was dead, and so did I, the world’s eye,
In that shadow did I think all things but the world’s eye;
That she was dead, and so did I, the world’s eye,
That in her shadow did I think all things but the world’s eye;
And all the earth did not think of her that was but living;
That she was dead, and so did I, the world’s eye,
In that shadow did I think all things but the world’s eye;
And all the earth did not think of her that was but living;
She, the world’s eye, did not see any thing but herself.
‘And thus did the world live and go away;
She did not know, nor did she know, that all men were mortal;
And thus did she, that she did see my face,
That she did know the face of my own face,
And of her I did not know, and my love did not know.
And therefore they that live by their self know not how to make love.
But the most glorious thing in all this world I shall have,
The most pure thing that is the thing that dies, and the pure that lives.
‘Therefore I should not do this,’ quoth she,’my love’s love is dead.
‘That I should not, nor was I in my love,
For thy love did be a mortal, and thy love dead.’
And now I would not be able to express the love I had,
To what it might best express itself,
As though I were a fool, so I was a fool, but thou must be a fool,
Since thou must be a fool, and thou must be deceived,
So thou art fool but thou shalt be deceived,
Therefore thou shalt be guilty, and thou shalt not be guilty,
And thou shalt be guilty but thou shalt be guilty,
Thy guilt shall make thee guilty and thy guilt shall make thee guilty;
And thy guilt shall make thee guilty and thy guilt shall make thee guilty,
And thy guilt shall make thee guilty and thy guilt shall make thee guilty


======== CHECKPOINT 014 OUTPUT # 003 ========

(This is to be understood with reference to his words, which when he speaks of himself, makes no one else look upon them, but his. “Let no one say I am a coward.”)
As he was speaking the sound of the horse, it came from heaven, to which she added, “You have seen my face, do you not know why I am afraid?”
“If thou wilt make my face angry,” replied he, “I will put my hand to her face, and then I will kill her. I will kill her, and thou shalt not have thy lips to my eyes.
“Thy eye doth make me swear to my brother’s oath, that thou willst keep his oath from the thief.
“It is a disgrace to be seen, and it doth be disgraceful to be seen to thy brother; if thou dost have my spirit to kill, thou wilt have none of it.”
“The thief is made king of men, and then the thief dies, and the king is made king of men.”
And so to her, but when she heard these words, she was too deep a wound to see.
She sat on the edge of the seat, and being touched, gave her place, saying,
“O king, let my hand do all things for me; thou art my slave.
My will is to love you, and my will is to live with you.”
Then he said, “O thou, whom my beloved queen hath forsaken thee,
With thy loving-kindling dote doth love thee, and thou shalt dwell with me.”
So saying, she had the queen’s hand, and she took it with her, saying:
“A friend is to thee, thou beloved sister, but not my friend:
Behold this body of mine body, I am slain for thee:
Thy lips betray thy love, and thy lips betray thy love:
To thy body will I make my death as mine eyes would be,
When my tears do flow forth in water;
If thy wounds would not be stained, thou shalt live as a lion;
My face as the heart of a lion is,
The foul blood of a man, the foul blood of a man
Hath dishonored and adulterated thy self,
O love, thou my true love, thy true love,
The foul blood of a thief doth poison thee.
“I will not kill thee, for thou hast done the worst,
Since I was his mistress, and that I was his mistress was mine:
Since I was his slave, and that I was his slave was mine:
since I was his wife, and that I was his wife was mine,
Since I was his wife, and that I was his wife was mine,
Since I was his slave, and that I was his slave was mine,
Since I was his slave, and that I was his slave was mine,
Since I was his wife, and that I was his wife was mine,
Since I was his slave, and that I was his slave was mine,
Since I was his wife, and that I was his wife was mine,
Since I was his slave, and that I was his slave was mine,
Since I was his slave, and that I was his slave was mine,
And as I had her hand she had my heart,
And the more I saw the more I grew tired
And the more I felt a change of my face,
Which had the face of a slave;
And in it I saw the face of a slave,
As if it were a new face, and the beauty of a man.
‘For I am a stranger from her, and so am she,
Even so that I am your lover and mine,
And my love is her will, but thy will is mine.’
“O Love, be quiet; do not despise me; I do love you,” said he, “and I would like to have you;
And, lo, to me there are no sounds,
But the sounds of the living, and my breathing.
‘Thou art not my love, for thou art mine;
Thou shalt not lie with me, but thou shalt die;
Thy lips betray thy love, and thy lips betray thy love:
Thy lips are a slave in my sight,
And no sound is heard to me from thine eyes.
‘O, my friend, thou wilt see my face, and I will kill thee!
And if thou dost kill me, then kill me,
Thy blood will be my death; I will burn you alive.
For I am his slave, and he is mine;
And thou shalt be my death, and he is mine;
And the time is spent by the living,
And the time spent by him whose


======== CHECKPOINT 014 OUTPUT # 004 ========

turbulent, with the blood of his dead body rising from his cheek; but in all his rest the whole of his face was white, like that of a lion, and his lips, which are black with white; but in his eyes the colour of his lips, so far as it was seen, was white, as well as the colour of his heart, but more so than the colour of his heart.

“This world hath no beauty: there art not beauty’s parts. I am not the painter of it, but I have made it. Art is not art’s love: for this love, art did give thee beauty. Art did give thee beauty’s parts. I did not love thee for this. I did not love thee for that, that, or that, but that, and did love thee, as well as thy love did; the love that thou art, thou art mine, my dear. Let me tell thee this, that in this life I have done, not this death: wherefore have I committed murder? I have not committed murder of another, nor of my own part.

“If he sayeth this, thou shalt not be revenged on me; I have neither death nor honour: therefore he that beheld it, I do no offence: for if thou art not my friend, it is but a friend whom I fear, which by this cause did betray me:

“For in this world I see nothing but death, but no world’s beauty is greater than thy beauty, and yet none can more resemble thy beauty.

“For it is not in my being born that I have seen but death.

“For this is the world, which is mine: not so, that all things are my own, but that others my own be my objects.

“For this is the world I am: but, in me I have nothing to do; for my part, to do, is to my part, and my part to the world.”

‘O what art thou doing, that art not I, but the living?

“What art thou doing? thou art not that thou art, but the living, and so thou art my living:

“When thou art dead, I can kill thee;

When thou art alive, I can kill thee;

when thou art dead, I can live.”

‘O this thou art, what didst thou do of my life?

“That life is for me, and I do not desire thy death,
for no man’s life is not death;

I do nothing to increase thy death, but to decrease it.

“Thou art the good of the world, thou art to the good of thy self:

Thou art the world’s best, thou art thy self, and I do not desire thy death.”

‘The rest to my thoughts, this being my thoughts, and nothing else’s,
My thoughts, the thought is my thought, and nothing else’s,
And so to thy thoughts this is, this being my thoughts,
And to thy thoughts this is, this being mine, I do not desire thy death.

‘Now thus saith I, thou art in a state of youth,
Like a son born of youth, that is no longer alive:

‘But by thy loving kindness didst thou help me to come,
To help me to be saved;
For to thy loving kindness didst thou help me to be saved;
For to thy loving kindness didst thou help me to be saved;
For to thy loving kindness didst thou help me to be saved;
And now that thou art here, with these faults I see more than thou can tell,
More than thou can tell, but that thou can not know.

For I see no thing but death, but death alone:
And yet life itself was a death, and thou didst not tell it,
Yet, after it, thou didst tell it.

Thus is my grief more felt than sorrow, nor my grief stronger than sorrow.

“My grief in this life, I perceive, in this life,
Thou shalt not live, nor love be my friends,
nor do I live, nor shall I live:
And yet what thou art, thou art in a state of youth,
This being my thought, my thought shall live:
And if thy thought is in a state of youth,
Thou shalt not live, nor love be my friends,
Nor didst thou say this, to that hour.

Yet now thou hast been living, and hast not told it:
My soul in this life, and thy soul out of me,
For all this time I live, my life will live,
And therefore thou art a coward: but it would be a coward to live:
And it is so, my heart


======== CHECKPOINT 014 OUTPUT # 005 ========

milestones, and those that did not?
And yet if one were to say that he could not make use of any other thing for his own pleasure, he would not be much help in him in this way.
And why did she weep, and why did she weep?
For they did not be in him, she being herself.
And so did she,
By their beauty she that hath been so much loved:
Which he hath so much to complain of,
And the more he complain, his beauty hath seen it,
And the more he wonder at her beauty:
And yet if one should say that she hath had no grace,
Or any other grace, but that she had none,
He could have not make it, for she had no grace to hold
Her tongue in his breast, and had no grace to give her words
Which had the most pleasing taste, and most sweet taste in him:
Thus did he make her moan, and did not do her a wink,
Even as she did not make him hear her.
But this was the end he made of his sorrow;
For no one’s fault will she bear more sorrow than his.
And now that his grief was done, his thoughts were,
Which were on the earth, where they were buried,
In his own thoughts, where they were not,
where they were kept, and where they were not.
And thus did she be in his mind.
To her self she went on,
When she seemed to say that he had no place to live,
And would not think to die, and if this should be said,
And that which in this world should be,
To himself he would, for in heaven there is no end,
Yet he, to which he should write all,
O what is his use; he should not be a beggar,
Or as a thief, to be a thief himself.
But what is he worth: thou shalt have no love,
And nothing but his lust,
So that all others can see him in his misery.
‘What can I tell thee, or what thou art worth,
To my self and me to thee,
As I can no longer be told what I am worth,
To you I am too rich, too poor.
I am too poor, too poor to know,
I am no more rich than you,
For being poor and being rich makes me want to spend,
O what a shame is there for being rich,
When so many poor, and no poor being,
Are not poor, for being poor and being rich makes me love
How much did you think to say that he had been so,
that thou couldst not find the thing which thou loveest,
So as to me that he could not find thee;
I am your dear, my dear love.
“How, then, did I do this,
How did thou hast done this thing?
To make a fool of me so,
That I might be content for your sake,
By deceiving the truth of this deed,
The fact is, thou art worth nothing to me,
Thy beauty is thyself worth nothing to me,
Unless I take you as thy treasure.
The poor woman, so well told,
Which thou doest by his will alone know,
Thy life must not be lost in love,
The loss must be done by thy being rich,
In thee I can do nothing but live;
So that my life, and my life’s worth must not be
So far from thee that I must be buried,
And yet never to see him seem to live,
Nor be alive at the age of your age,
Who was the king, you know me well,
Who did kill your youth, your old age,
But my youth is dead, but your youth lives on,
Like the birds of my birth.
O, how many souls in thee’s nest
And still you live, to do what thou wantst.
What good is it to be dead when thou wilt live?
How much more is thou worth than thyself to be dead,
When it should have been thy life that thy life should die.
But now I should have thy life, as I thought to die,
Which so am I, my dear friend,
And what else could I do but do the same?
Which is my way, thou lovest me,
What thy love is in me, and thy love thyself.
O my love! this is a love that doth so much to love:
That to thee so much to hate,
And thy self so much to hate,
So you love in my heart, that to me you love,
That to me to love I love nothing more than I am worth.
How could I love, I love, that


======== CHECKPOINT 015 OUTPUT # 001 ========

glers that would be drawn upon her and the whole world.
‘And what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘What bad do thou know me, and what dost thou hate?
‘If thou were my friend, what crime would I inflict,
‘but I am thy neighbour, thou art my friend’s friend,
‘And what crime then would I inflict?
‘But what crime I inflict, I am thy neighbour’s friend,
‘If thou were my friend, thou art my neighbour’s friend,
‘But what crime then would I inflict?
‘If thou were my friend, what crime would I inflict,
‘But what crime then would I inflict?
‘But what crime then would I inflict?
‘If thou were my friend, what crime would I inflict?
‘If thou were my friend, what crime would I inflict?
‘And what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength,
‘But what good is thy strength, and what good is thy strength?
‘And what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘But what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength,
‘But what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘And what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘But what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘And what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘But what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘But what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘But what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘But what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘But what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘But what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘And what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘And what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘But what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘But what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘And what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘But what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘But what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘And what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘But what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘But what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘Then what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘But what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘But what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘And what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘But what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘Then what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘Then what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘Then what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘But what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘And what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘And what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘And what good is thy love, and what good is thy strength?
‘For the moment that thy heart is bereft of beauty,
And this dreadful eye,
As it bears the proud countenance of thy self,
She woos and cries in pain, tears drop down,
And yet she lives, and yet she dies, and yet she lives
And yet she dies, and yet she lives and dies
As though by an ocean’s water her body had been dead
As though to the river that would be the river
Wherewith she might rise and fall with him,
And yet her breath, and her heart,
But her lips, and her mind were pure and pure
Yet when she was dead and in heaven’s eye,
Her breath was pure and pure, and yet it was bloodless.
And she stood, and she felt it breathe again,
Like a dead bird, like a dead dove,
Who had never felt fear, ever had never tasted fear,
Nor ever felt love, nor ever had felt fear,
nor ever felt love, nor ever felt love,
Nor ever felt love, nor ever felt love,
Nor ever felt love, nor ever felt love,
Nor ever felt love, nor ever felt love,
Nor ever felt love, nor ever felt love,
Nor ever felt


======== CHECKPOINT 015 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Treasurer for four-and-twenty-six years; but he was much troubled at this, for he had made a thousand false and false errors.

“The thought of him; the thought of his love; the thought of the false, the false, and the false!

“What love would that he should so speak, to be so despised, in my thoughts,

Thou canst not tell thyself, yet so art thyself more assured,
Or that my thoughts do mine, and do them of mine own worth;
As thou wilt know that mine thoughts, and thy heart my,
O, which thou art mineself; but to have my heart that doth kill thee;
I have nothing to kill, and none to fear;
But if thou do so, I shall not weep with shame,
Whilst thou livest, nor let me die,
Which in my heart and in mine heart hath not been:
But, still, by their sweet tender love, I was made a maid,
With their soft love, with their tender sorrow.

“But I did not live, nor did I see,
In these last four days, I saw nothing,
That in my heart I know did die;
But I knew to my death nothing,
That my heart, my love’s love, did die;
So my death can not seem to be so late,
That all my living lives can bear it,
By which all my lives, being my life, might survive,
For I died before I knew all this,
That all my dead lives might bear it, and all that were still,
For, by my life I knew that all my dead lives did live,
But this world was dead, and that world was dead,
No man that did my body live, did she die,
that she might live; but in my death she did not die;
For she had my body, and she had me dead.

“For a living, thou dost not lose it?
I shall still be happy to live, but my love shall no longer live.

But when thou liveest, let me die, but thy death shall live;
Even so shalt thou be dead.”

‘But it would be strange to me to go to war with thee,
In whose parts I did not have to fight;
And to leave thy hand, for that is a disgrace,
To take such a part, as I have to bear thee to live.

“But for thee this is thy loss,
Thy loss so hard to bear, for it is my fault,
And not mine that bears it; but it was mine that is to bear it,
That by thy death, the world did die,
And not yours that bears it.”

“But if thou live’st the end, thou shalt not bear it.

For thou art dead’st to bear this in death’s end,
So to bear this death in eternity,
that thou mayst die in this, and in eternity die again.

“This is not, so it goes, but not to be.

The world shall never be that which shall perish,
Or to live, till he dies again,
To die again in the world that lies with thee,
That she hath a right to live by thee,
The life which she did give, for love’s sake,
And not mine own life, but that of mine own love.

When they are reconciled, thou shalt live again,
And live as thou didst, and as thou didst never live,
Then will no more suffer thee, nor shall thou die,
And every soul to all the world shall love thee with thy soul.

‘But now, by some force I can speak,
Or I may speak my truth, and speak it,
I can hear it, and speak it, but I cannot hear it.

But I may talk my truth, and speak it,
Even so thou mayst prove them false,
I know my truth, but not my soul;
My spirit cannot read and write,
And it cannot learn.

But it shall be mine, thy self’s, and thy spirit’s,
Who by the power of thy grace shall write
For a man in this world, and be his subject
Which shall know this, for that he shall be slain.

“Yet thou didst lie in my arms,
For I was afraid that thou mightst kill me.

‘Yet thy anger did kill me, and thou didst slay me.’

‘Yea, my wrath did kill me, and thy rage did kill me,
Though thy rage did kill me, and thy rage did kill me;
Thy rage did kill me, my wrath did kill


======== CHECKPOINT 015 OUTPUT # 003 ========

vertising to his brother, and he asked him not to do it, but to make it his own, and to make it his own, and to make it his own;
The maid would not help him, and so he gave her his answer:
“That would not be worth much, but you shall not spend it.
‘My brother is very sick, and there can be no reason why he should stay at home,
And he tells me he lives in a mad-madhouse; but where it’s done,
‘Why should I stay there?
Who can give my life but myself?
Thy body shall burn with hate; her soul shall not give her life,
Like a lion to his prey, or a tiger to his prey;
Or her breath to her lips, and her breath to her tongue.”
‘Then did I make my way to the chamber, and that night
Were like unto thee, that the light of thy day’s day
Had me, as a painter, to make the light of thy night’s day;
And to give to this night I am a painter to you,
O that which doth in vain look
Upon the bright light of your face, and your eyes, as when the sun
To my brows, the fair moon to thy brows;
To my heart’s love, the pure love, to your heart’s heart’s heart
That ever you love in mine sight,
To you I have been born, and I know not all thy faults,
But I myself shall show thee some faults that shall never be
And, till the end I will have all the rest in mine eyes,
Who knows where they are buried?
Who knows where thou where thy shame liest,
What thy disgrace to thy self lies,
Which, for thy self’s sake, would be your death;
O, for my self’s sake, thou must die for the shame
Of my self.
The maid-maid did not leave his hand; her heart was in him,
And to his right she rose, and he began to speak,
And she gave him up:
‘This life which I shall live,
And my life which thou hast,
Which I shall see in thee, and in thy name;
Love’s power is in thee, and in thy beauty
And thy power is in thy body;
That love of beauty which thou art,
If it be not in my eyes, but my soul,
When I see thee, what thou dost love,
As thou art my love, and as thou art my love,
To me I must live, and love my life is born,
If thy life ever havest, my life would not be
And if that life should be thy death, I should die to thee;
No, this life will be mine.
If thou art mine, it is mine;
If thou art not mine, thy life is mine,
And if thou art not mine, thy life is mine,
And this life hath died;
That life shall be mine, and this life shall die to thee;
Then what thou shalt fear must not fear;
For what fear, what fear,
Let every thing be done with love.
When I am gone to you, it is no more than a stranger.
Love’s strength is all mine;
Love’s beauty lies, not in your beauty,
but in mine:
To thee I can only say, Love’s strength
Was all mine.
This life, if it be love’s strength,
What can we say, that thou art love,
Or that thou art my love, or that I am thy lover?
‘For thy sake, and thou wilt say these words,
Let me say that this is love’s life,
For thou art my life’s love, and in my life my life,
For thy sake, and in thy life my life,
O love, which, for the sake of all thy life’s sake,
My life will be my death, and I will die to thee;
O love, which, since thou art my love,
Thou shalt live and thou shall die to me.’
‘But thou art mine; wherefore hast thou forsaken me?’
She looked in the eye of his eyes and his lips;
He could not seem to comprehend, but he could not be seen.
“My husband,” he said, “look out my face!
My husband,” he said, “look out my face!”
“This life, this beauty,” she cried, “can I die,
The life which I am, and my life’s life’s life!
My love, my love, my love, my love, my love,
The life which I am, and my life’s life’s life!
My love, my love, my love, my


======== CHECKPOINT 015 OUTPUT # 004 ========

nationally in her book about her early days.

When she was in Rome she had a good time, as many of her neighbours did in the day, and she did her best for her needs.

The way to Rome is as follows, as I should say, like to my own.

She was quite a painter, in her simplicity; she did not have to take her place; she did not look at them from a certain eye; but, with much more force, she made their lives and lives, and made the life for others as her own; and her pride at their being so great, they might not be so little praised, so their praise be said,

For if thou art so, be it so!

For that is the true love that my true self love!

That is my true love,

My true love, my true love!

That is my true love,

My true love, my true love!

In her painting she had a singular beauty

In her painting was pure,

And pure did it stay,
And pure kept,
When he left it behind.

Yet she was so, and so well do I
When she began my heart’s course.

In that her self, like a mirror,
Thought that I was in my own.

But when, all his heart’s self seemed
To be the subject of love,

And the subject of hate,
How could I not love him,
When I was the subject of his hatred?

How could I love him, when all his self felt to be
His self, and all his self felt to be
Love’s most pleasing feature?

Then the world was with me,
And I am dead:
‘O, how can thou love
And make thy self sad,
When thy self is happy?

For thee that thou hate is dead,
That thy self thou desirest,
Thy self that thou mayst die.

But when that, thy self is to die
And thy self to die,
That thy self mayst make thee sad,
Thy self to make thee happy,
Thy self to make thee unhappy,
Yea to thyself thou art dead,
That thy self to live,
So thy self mayst be dead.

But thy self, I think, did do this to me:
The other is still in my heart,
But still my self is to kill.

‘But in this, you doth I see my true self?
‘Yes, yes, yes!
I believe all this, but do not believe what
Is true, but what is false.

‘I do believe, and believe all I tell,
In what, is true or false,
What, is true or false, what lies true or false,
What lies false, what lies true?

Thy self, and thy self’s self,
Are all things false;
What lie to thee lies false to thee.

O, who can kill me with the stroke of his finger,
That thou shalt find me dead when he finds me?
‘If thou art not dead, what will stop thee?’
‘How? because thou art still dead?
‘If thou art dead, thou art still dead.’
‘I do not die,’ quoth she; ‘though thou art still alive,
Thy self is to die;
When I am gone, the world and my own body will stop;
‘O!’ quoth she, ‘there is no time for me
To think of thy self’s worth,
Unless thou art at least so, that I may believe it.’
‘O! then thou art not so,’ quoth she, ‘I still be dead!’
‘But how, is that thy mind
That thou hast so despised thy self,
O? yet it hath not been
Anointed to the world, to the earth;
That thou art so wretched of them that they will be thy friends.
But that thy mind may be made known unto them,
And make them know thy self is true.
No, my heart is true and true,
And in this heart is thy true self;
And in this life’s part thou art gone.
‘What is that? that thy heart,
My heart, what didst thou see?
That thou art dead?
What is that? that thou art still gone?
What is that? thou art still gone?
‘If thou art still, thou art still dead;
If thou art still, thou art still dead;
If thou art still, thou art still dead;
If thou art still, thou art still dead;
If thou art still, thou art still dead;
If thou art still, thou art


======== CHECKPOINT 015 OUTPUT # 005 ========

inocet,
Thou art in their hand, and let thy heart fill,
And in thy blood all thy woe.
For by thy woe shalt thou be cursed,
And in thy blood shalt thou be cursed;
The world shall stop thine eye from the earth.
Who can blame the fool, nor praise the proud,
To show himself as worthy of death’s end,
For he that dies should be the happy heir?
Who should be the father of his child?
If I were you, thou dost see me?
Then let my mind be like yours,
If thou dost make mine love to thy self,
To my eyes, in my head, in my heart,
To the earth, in my womb, in the earth’s edge;
For I am mine own.
For behold, all things are set in motion,
and every thing which they do change,
O what a state of affairs, what a state of things
As the sun, and moon, and stars;
O that heaven might be seen through the glass,
Which in her fair glory shows her majesty.
She looks, and yet perceives
Her beauty, not with his, but with her sight.
And so all these things, but not the rest,
For they seem to me like one and like none others.
‘But it is true,’ quoth she,’my heart hath a good desire:
But if I did my heart not love him,
And when he should see me I should never want him,
And thus, as I am the son of that fool,
My beauty hath none of him, but my sight.’
‘How much do you love your own mind?’ quoth she, ‘I do not, though mine eyes might see,
For fear of them not to view me,
If my own sight should be so deceived,
That by my view I should live to kill.’
‘”My heart hath a good desire,’ quoth she, ‘and I love thy sight.’
‘Then I do fear,’ quoth she, ‘the sun shall lighten and darken my mind,
And my eyes shall see thy beauty as a glass.
“This is a state of things;
This I am not at ease about,
That my heart cannot read, but I know it:
I hear your voice, but not the sounds thereof.
‘In this way my mind appears to me,
That is to thee the mind I see,
But I am like a cloud, and your mind knows me not;
And in this cloud of mine eyes I will not behold
The cloud of my eyes I should behold
That which hath come down from heaven:
O, this cloud of my eyes my mind shall hear,
The shadow of my self that would not see,
And in this shadow I would not be,
And so what, then, are we to say,
That in this heaven thy thoughts are made
O, your thoughts have nothing to do with me?
But thou art my son, my husband my wife;
Who to thy honour I owe
The honour of having laid hold on you,
Even though I did not be with thee,
Or you to your honour I do owe.
‘”My heart hath a good desire, yet none of it hath been,
That is to thee the mind I see,
Nor do I know what thee doeth, nor thou dost know it:
But thou art my son, my husband my wife;
For I am my husband’s own mistress, thy mistress’s mistress,
And thou art mine own slave in that slavery I do:
‘I cannot have thee, my own mistress, my slave,
Nor can I have thee, my own slave, my slave, my slave:
If, therefore, thou wilt live to do this deed,
Even so shalt thou die! for that I can give thee what I do,
Even so shalt thou live to do this deed,
The end that I did not give thee,
If I did give thee, you would live to live with me:
For now thou art my child, and my child is no part of me,
And as I am my self I shall not be,
But you may live by this in me,
And the end that I do live will be your life,
To you alone that by your self is born.”
“And where then can you find?” quoth she, “if thou didst see me,
That I should be happy?
If I did perceive thee, thou wouldst not have me.”
“And what good reason would thee have?” quoth she, “if thou dost not perceive me,
Thy love didst prevent my love from coming,
For thou hast given me up to be thy own slave.
If thou


======== CHECKPOINT 016 OUTPUT # 001 ========

owned-up” that he did not dare to make, and was so strong with it, that he thought he had been the first to find, or that the new world had begun to grow, but had done nothing, till a great storm interrupted his work: and he did not bequeath to their queen so a remedy, either, but that he should think of it, and know that the poor man was so much worse than his wife; and that she did not have his hand’s skill, either to make things better; but he had none.

This, therefore, the eye was with her,

What she would not take:

A better place for her,

Or a better store:

A better book, for to read

The night and day which they spent there.

For, like him, she had made the present so dull,
That she felt nothing but a feeling of sorrow,
And still she did not feel that which a dull heart, when it did hear,
Than hears all her fears and fears:
O, let them hear, but to them thou wilt not see.

He did seem angry,
And when he did speak a loud voice began to say,
Whose voice was the voice of a maiden with a sad face,
And she saw him in his white hair,
Who would hear him, and not give it up?
‘Be, thou wilt not say:
If thou art so, my dear friend will show thee.’

“And so he did see thee again,
He being gone, that she did not stay,
And he did tell her he was dead;
And yet she could not help seeing him,
And for some time, as the cold weather she
Holds on to the cold;
Or when she looks, she hears him speak,
Which by him is like the cold wind on a night.

What a grief he did in his death,
His eyes still glowing, but she is pale,
And he is a man:
And all these strange things seem strange,
And in their strangeness to her,
The stranger in his disguise did make her look.

But this she did not hear;
she did hear, that she did not want,
Though she were so much at her own ease;
In the night did she wake up, and in the day
The sun came out, and then came again
To bathe her head, that light of day which doth hide her.

But how could she be made to see him,
Or to have him kill her;
No, I would not have had him kill her,
For it would have made him think that she should not see;
Her husband in heaven,
And in heaven with men, and women that see none,
Would not make his love to himself so,
Nor love to men that see nothing,
Nor love to men that love nothing,
Yet love did not be seen by men but by others,
And then he was slain, and his eyes were gone;
And she would not say, ‘O my dear friend,
I see thee again, and again I’ll hear thee.’

“Look,” quoth he, “if thou art my friend,
To hear all my lies so false,
My false tales so false,
If thou wilt hear none, then I will have thee,
Love and life are the very reason of their fame,
Love, the true reason of my life,
A reason for what my love’s sake?
To live by it, for it, the reason?
that thy good deeds are my praise,
And to live by it, for thy sake?
what canst thou do to live by mine,
That I know not, as thou dost, how to live by mine?
‘Thou art not my love,
That ever was, for ever have I lived,
By nature’s grace, or nature’s command.

But thou hast no heart, and neither heart nor mind do
Aught so noble in thee as to deny thy right,
That when thou art my love I will do nothing,
And be what thou wilt not love:
This all this she did not hear;
It seems to my heart, but she cannot speak.

But now, my dear friend, thou wilt not do that which I do not know:
My love, my love is true, and all it is
In your eyes, and in my heart, and in the heart
Of others that you might not see,
O that thou mightst not see, that thou mightst not know;
As then did I, and the first I did
Thy love’s name, but thy name,
Thy love’s name was thy name,
As thy


======== CHECKPOINT 016 OUTPUT # 002 ========

of the right hand of her own,
When she was not a babe.
He took her hand, and made her kiss his.
His tongue and lips in each other’s hand,
Made kisses on both sides of the water.
Then one of them began to thrust forth his own hand,
And the other by his side thrust’d forth the other’s.
His breast seemed to swallow him,
Then with the breast’s softness she began to suck him:
The tongue fell off, but her heart remained.
‘Tis that time,’ said she, ‘I will be your guide,
From a place where all my senses can be sighted,
And you will see a happy place,
Where every part of me is well fitted:
And I will do what thou dost wish,
For there thou shouldst be me in thy sight,
And I will be a true love to thee,
I will be your guide, and my self well fitted.
But as thou dost wish so, yet as many as I love,
This time thou shouldst have been my self,
The beauty of my self will be more perfect
Like a spring than my self was like an earth,
And to the world I shall have such a world.
-Thou lovest me for me by that which I have made.
So what shall I say, that I did make thee,
For I love thee that thy love hath done?
Who is this that loves thee more than the rest?
‘Nay, what should I say, that thou art thy self’s servant?
what is thy good fortune, that I thy self live?
“If thou art thy self’s self’s self,” answered he,
That thou art thy self’s self’s self, thou art self’s self.
He did make this her wish, and made her kiss him,
And she gave him the breath he had taken;
He then had her kiss the same; and this time he gave her the breath he had taken;
This time he gave her the breath he had taken;
So he gave her the breath he had taken.
‘Ah, you love me, sweet boy; for I love thee that thou hast done,
For this, when thou art mine, I will not be your slave,
Because I must be thy slave.
So you love me, sweet boy; for I love thee,
For this, when thou art mine, I will not be your slave;
For this, when thou art mine, I will not be your slave;
Therefore I love thee, and I will not be thy slave,
For this, when thou art mine, I will not be thy slave;
But this thou wast thy self, thou art thy self’s self;
For this, when thou art mine, I will not be thy slave;
For this, when thou art mine, I will not be thy slave;
Therefore I love thee, and I will not be thy slave;
Therefore I love thee, and I will not be thy slave;
And this thou wast thy self, thou art thy self’s self;
Then thou art mine, and I will not be thy slave.
Thus love, now a new addition,
This now a new addition, this now a new addition,
The change of all that which is good, to make more of it,
As thou art thy self’s self’s self, so thou art self’s self’s self.
‘Then love, now a new addition,
This now a new addition, this now a new addition,
The change of all that is good, to make more of it,
As thou art thy self’s self’s self’s self, so thou art self’s self’s self.
“For that which I have made, I did make thee.”
“You will not love me,” quoth he, “not the same.”
“No, you will not love me.”
“I will not love you.”
“Not that which I am, I am a lie.”
“No, you will not love me.”
“I will not love you, but I will be your slave.”
“Therefore thou wast thy self, thou art my self’s self.”
Then he said, “This is your desire, this is mine desire.”
“But what shall I say to you,
If thou wilt not take my eye?”
“No, I will not say to thee this is true,
That what thou lovest in me shall not be what I desire.
Now how do I know this to thee,
That thou art my self’s self’s self;
This thou lovest in me shall not be what I desire.
“Now what shall I say, if thou wilt not take my eye?
Then what shall I say, if thou wilt not


======== CHECKPOINT 016 OUTPUT # 003 ========

bulldo to be buried
Like a cloud that cannot be seen
And if your wind was too strong, it would not touch me.
This I have learned in my youth by your voice,
From my own heart, through your eyes, through your tongue,
I have found, the truth, the truth, the truth of this world
As deep in your bosom as the stars,
Or as deep in your breast as the ocean;
What you are to the world you can see, and then you will die
The shame of what you do not see;
And what you do not see, and then you will die,
The shame of what you do not see;
The shame of what you do not see, and then you will die,
The shame of what you do not see, and then you will die,
The shame of what you do not see, and then you will die,
The shame of what you do not see, and then you will die,
the shame of what you do not see, and then you will die.
Then do not you tell me that I am a mortal,
That is dead, that is alive, that is living.
O do not suppose that I am alive,
That your life hath not seen,
That is dead, that is alive, and yet not dead;
Yet it hath not seen, neither did it see
O death which, in the day which I hate,
Is all, for in it all lives!
And though it be dead, yet I love thee,
And in thee that I love thee,
And thou hast done me wrong, and didst murder
The child of my love, whom I do love?
And as I love thee, though thou didst murder my love,
I will do thee wrong, and thou hast done me wrong,
And I will kill thee, and shall take your life,
Then shall I die, and thou shalt live,
And when thy dead body shall live, I will be thou living,
And when thy dead body shall be, I will live,
And when thou shall be dead, thou shalt live,
And when thou shalt die, thou shalt live,
And when thou shalt die, thou shalt live,
And when thou shalt be dead, thou shalt live,
And when thou shalt be dead, thou shalt live,
And when thou shalt be dead, thou shalt live,
And when thou shalt be dead, thou shalt live,
And when thou shalt be dead, thou shalt live,
And when thou shalt be dead, thou shalt live,
And when thou shalt be dead, thou shalt live,
And when thou shalt be dead, thou shalt live,
And when thou shalt be dead, thou shalt live,
And when thou shalt be dead, thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then thou shalt live, and then thou shalt live,
And then


======== CHECKPOINT 016 OUTPUT # 004 ========

316

And she would not say

That the things I do, and the things I do, did change,

To that which I owe my love, but never did owe

My soul.

And now, after a thousand years since she hath left her,

She hath lost her sight of her dear eyes;

But she still do still look upon me with an eye
That makes her believe me guilty.

When in her old self she began to be angry,
She began to love me with an eye,
And in my youth she would never, and yet she did love me.

Her love now she must be the greatest of the ages;
Her life now she must be a disgrace,
And never a friend nor a friend
And never an acquaintance with his daughter.

And why should she not know if I shall see thee the next day,
Nor if thou shalt prove to thee thy worth
That I am but a fair woman from thy love?
what was the purpose of your love?
how dost thou know that I am such a fair maiden?
“But you,” quoth I,” thou art mine;
For though thou wilt know mine self,
Nor shouldst thou believe me,
The thing I am, nor the thing which I am;
If in my heart thou mightst love me,
And thou mayst see my heart, I never love thee:
And yet I do say, thou must be mine,
When you see my true self, and I love thee,
You must have my self, and I love thee.
“O love, thou dost not see, but this is the truth:
Thou dost love me not, but thou wilt see my true self:
Therefore the fairest of my true selves do dost love me,
To prove me, that thou wilt have a taste of me,
Thou dost love me not, but thou wilt be my self,
O love, thou wilt have thy self:
For you will think me fair, and it shall seem fair.
My self thou hast in thine eye, and mine in mine eye
For that self is fairer than thy self,
For thou shalt see me fair, and my self fairer than thy self:
Thou shalt not behold, nor shall thou know mine self.
“Thou art not the fairest of my true self:
For, though thou dost love me, thou canst be mine:
Yet that thy self is not mine, thy self thou canst be mine.
‘And therefore, since thy self is thy self’s self,
Thou dost not be mine in thine eyes, nor mine in mine eye,
Yet thou art my self, and my self is mine.
This false love of mine, that thou shouldst love me not,
O love, thou hast not seen, nor mine eye,
yet thou art my self, and my self is mine.
“Thy self is the best I can be,
And the worst I can be, and I am not my self,
Thou dost love me not, but thou wilt be my self.
“O, sweet lord, love that thou hast in thine eye,
Thou art my self, and my self is mine.
Love is self-love, love is not self-love,
love is not self-love,
love is not self-love, and thou art mine.
“For behold, thou hast not yet seen, nor mine eye,
thy self is mine.
O, how hast thou seen me but did I see thee?
O, how did I perceive thou not?
O, how did I not perceive thee?
O, how did I perceive thee?
O, how did I perceive thee?
O, how did I perceive thee?
O, how did I perceive thee?
“And thus, after a thousand years, she takes him by the hand,
Like the young maiden that he sits in,
As if she had slain him;
Thy self and mine were not slain, nor my self slain.
O, where did I kill that young maiden
that thou dost kill?
Where did I kill that young maiden?
“When I was gone with that youth,
I found him dead in his bed.
Where did I find him dead in his bed?
O, how did I find him dead in his bed?
O, how did I find him dead in his bed?
O, how did I find him dead in his bed?
O, how did I find him dead in his bed?
O, how did I find him dead in his bed?
Where did I find him dead in his bed?
O, how did


======== CHECKPOINT 016 OUTPUT # 005 ========

cave that lies on a hill.
-No, you cannot kill me,
And not in your sight you will see that I kill
But by this mine own wound.
-For me, being weak and tired,
I do not desire the slaughter of my foe,
Or to make him be slain,
But I must make him mine to love.
-But, for me that is true
This means that I love thee more than you have mine,
Therefore, for thee, and me I beg leave,
To kill you and to kill the one who was slain.
But what shall I do, my own self or the others?
I will do my worst,
And if one of you is not,
To kill him, I will kill him all.
-As to the rest, let me not speak the praises of my foe,
But what shall you say, that the good of others will not win?
Myself or the others, I will die.
-But as to him that is the victor,
I will make him suffer, so that others do.
“No, I do not approve of your decease,
For he that lives by me,
Who lives by thee,
O king! thou art in my blood,
And thou is in mine, too.
-O my son and mine, how poor didst thou die,
With thy deathst love didst thou find?
To him that lies with me is my death,
And thou is in mine, too.
-What a poor fool! how weak is he that doth not live!
what a poor fool! how feeble is he that doth not live!
-When I told thee this, thou dost not tell me,
Why didst thou make my life so poor,
When I told you how hard the world for a moment
Was struck by a thousand sharp swords?
-Then will I love thee more than thy heart
That I have ever given thee?
-That I do give thee so much from thee,
And do this to my death and to my heart:
-And then shall I leave thee a slave,
And you are a slave, and I are my slave.
“No, I do not approve of your decease,
For he that lives by me,
That live by me, I do not approve of thy decease!
-And therefore will I love thee more than thy heart that doth live!
-The poor fool! how weak is he that doth not live!
Thou art in mine, too, though thy life shall die,
Even so the world for a moment was struck by a thousand sharp swords?
-Then will I love thee more than thy heart that doth live!
-And then will I love thee more than thy heart that doth live!
-How can I give thee so much from thee?
Thy heart I have never given thee?
For you have made me my slave;
If I had given thee mine, I should have given thee back again,
To live with you to this day:
Now all this my sorrow and all my death!
my heart will not live the way thou hast sought me:
For mine soul am I my soul;
And when I am gone, all my sorrows, my love and my death!
If I could not be that which gives thee life,
Which, from thence, the world for a moment doth give thee,
And thus, the world for a moment doth give thee back!
-For what purpose did thou that thou so despised my eyes
And my tongue, and thy eye thy tongue did kill?
Why, in a single day of a short day, didst thou kill me?
for, as though thy fire were extinguished,
My fire had not burned my breath;
And yet my eye had not died, and that part of my cheek had gone,
Which was the tear of death, not of the kiss;
My mouth which hath the tongue that kills me,
I do not swear on the vow;
And yet I did swear on my life that thou didst kill me,
And on my life, and on my life to this day:
-My death is life;
My life is death’s disgrace;
My death is death’s disgrace’s disgrace;
Yet I do swear on this vow, that I do swear on my life,
And live to this day, and live to this life:
-So that I did swear, that I do swear that I live,
And live to this day, and live to this life:
-And yet my life is my death;
My life is life’s shame;
My life is life’s shame’s shame;
Yet I do swear on this vow, that I live,
And


======== CHECKPOINT 017 OUTPUT # 001 ========

insurgents and armed groups within the city.

But, when the day came that the city was again brought before them, he began to think not so.

‘I have no such excuse to show you, my dear Lucrece,’ quoth he; ‘if I may not live, what is my fault? but, being my fault, so am I.’

‘For what? your fault,’ quoth he, ‘it is that you are my slave and that you must have me.’

‘That my pleasure shall not excuse my death, ’tis no,’ quoth he;’my crime to be my slave and then to be your slave to be my mistress.’

‘I,’ quoth she, ‘you will not stop thence, neither will I, my good slave, but you will have nothing to do with me and your slave will be your mistress.’

‘Oh, then,’ quoth she, ‘you have begun to say that your love, Lucrece, will not excuse me, but I am my slave, and you must be my mistress.

“O!’ quoth she, ‘you are the same as a beggar; if I have been a poor beggar I would not spend my time in beggars’ quacks, ‘but for your sake, where is my worth, what dost thou give me?

“Give me a bath of water,

And take a bath of milk,
And take a bath of water,

But when thou wilt get me, let my lust go
The one, the other shall not hold me alive.”

‘O,’ quoth she, ‘I will say this to thee,’ quoth she; ‘let me prove
That I am not your mistress, I do not wish to see you.

“My love,” quoth she, “my love,’ quoth she, ‘your mistress will do my will,
The others will do mine; that which is your will,
Is yours, mine will is yours, yours will be yours,
To be sure, it is not the other, but it is not your will,
And I will, you know, in your own will be your will.

‘”The poor girl with her head held in one hand her hand in another,
As if she were a dog, as she doth her owner,
What doth she say? what can she say?

“If my love should be so poor and sick,
My love’s worth not so much,
That my dear Lucrece should not make him my slave,
Or to make him our mistress, and for him our mistress
to make our mistress.

“If my love should ever lose,
And if her love did lose
By all her will in a time of sickness
Such a day was her youth: but if thy grace did lose,
thy will was lost by her, and thou shalt never again hear
thy voice again till it die.”

“But my love, my dear Lucrece,
The true love of thy heart shall be in thee,
For she shall never tell thee how thy will shall be,
How thy will to be, thy love shall be in thee,
Or what dost thou give me, my poor slave,
Even if I cannot die?”

“My beloved Lucrece,” quoth she, “this is the meaning of thy story,
O good Lucrece, that all your suffering,
That is to be yours, my slave, in thee,
In me thou art my slave, my slave, thy master,
And not for my sake, nor to kill thee.

“Love is not made by love; love is made by love.”

The other hand she took her hand and kissed it,
Like a dove she takes the dead,
As a bloodied dove her brain, her hand she holds;
Like a dove her mind, her tongue she holds;
Like a dove her eye, her tongue she holds;
like a dove her brain, her tongue she holds,
And like a dove her heart, her heart she holds;
As bloodied bloodless heaven doth swallow
All those who live with them that live with thee,
To which all the stars which shine in this dank,
The stars which shine in mine own will,
Which all those who live with me shall know
The time and place of my death, for they will not know.

The sky which doth cover the ocean,
And which all heaven hath in it,
Doth cover the heaven that covers the sea;
And heaven which doth not cover the earth;
So my love, my dear Lucrece,
And my dear Lucrece
To each of my parts, I have my love;
I have my love, my


======== CHECKPOINT 017 OUTPUT # 002 ========

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======== CHECKPOINT 017 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Tags with a little hotness!
I, who is in thy bosom,
That is by thy side.
Thy hand with thine dainties,
Which, though thy hand doth kiss me, yet that hand
With thine breast may kiss thee too;
And, with thy body, shall see thee kiss mine?
When my soul hath been filled with your womb,
It cannot say where I am, nor whether I am mine,
nor whether I am mine to live or die.
“As thou wast the fountain of the summer,
Which, in thy sight, doth wilt see to your grief:
Yet thou dost not see that it doth burn,
And wert in some place more to the sun;
That no man of earth may be so near.
But that there might be a summer doth seem,
Who would take thee to an early winter?
Or what summer of mine, if I shall come here,
Or my love and my marriage.
I may think, O dear, that this cannot be,
My thoughts with your eye are not quite right,
For I am all too dear, my true self,
The truth and love of my life.
This was my heart for thy will;
To love him as I did not love myself,
To love him for whom I should hate,
Or whom I should do hate more:
Or so to say the same in mine own thoughts,
Which I love more than thou do.
When thou wast the fountain of the summer,
Thou dost not see that it doth wilt see,
Nor how it doth know my heart nor my love;
Nor when I am thy love’s end,
Who cares not whether thou lovst me, nor how my soul doth love;
What then do you not say to me now,
What it doth not say to me then?
‘O, my dear,’ quoth he, ‘now I’ll love thee too.’
‘That, then,’ quoth she, ‘I’ll leave my part to thy woe,
And I will stay your life as well as thy will.
What then do you think of that which I say?
What else is it to live so far?
And in thee, who is the fountain of beauty?
What else do you think of that which thou art now,
Thy love doth still not kill, but to do it again?
Then love, being a thief,
If thou art no more thy friend than thy self,
So shalt thou stay, and stay, not the others:
So I shall stay you like a thief who steals,
And not by thee, nor thyself, but by me;
You may not kill me, nor make me fear you,
But by you do I die:
Or, if you will not kill me, nor make me fear you,
Then death will know no love, but love shall know none.
‘O therefore, if thou art not my love,
Even now thy love knows mine!
Love is still alive, and in me thou be,
And to my love thy self is no worse than a dead thing.
The sun hath no part in mine death;
But love is part of me, as a part of you!
If I love thee more, nor I die,
Even this world, that which you see, is no longer a world,
And death a part of mine being,
For it is what is of you what thou lovst:
When I am my self, and thou art my love;
And when thou wast my self, thou art my will:
Wherefore this, that thou wilt find,
So that thou art mine to do, and my will to do
That I am mine to do, and that thou art my will;
As thou hast done me wrong, so thou hast done me good;
Thy self and thy self are no more in me than in thee,
And when they touch, thou art my self’s aid,
And their help my self is mine.”
The wind hath not been so strong and strong as thou were,
That did not blow the flood that it had done;
But my self and mine, and thyself both,
Tried to drown the earth in your name;
For that which thou wilt make the earth drowns thee,
Thy self, which thou didst break with mine heart,
Thy self I didst break with my heart, and with my heart
My self that I didst break, and with my heart that I broke,
And then that which I didst break with my heart, and with my heart
Those in which I didst break, and with my heart that I didst break,
Those in which I did


======== CHECKPOINT 017 OUTPUT # 004 ========

Japanese of his own invention,
And his fair-nephew’s, and wife’s?
The two lovers were never with thee:
Then in spite of thee,
Till he would have slain me as a thief;
If he were, and I was slain in my youth,
Then how could he prove me so?
When there were three hours’ absence,
Th’night could not be too much gone.
But that I have seen the sun set in my sight,
Which, from the west-ward, hath no end,
Or is merely a drowsy light,
Which all the birds will catch in their feathers,
Or in their feathers all the birds will catch in their tails.
In such an time, then, will my soul behold
But what thou art! How art thou here!
All these things are for thee.
Look at my face, and I will be
Till I die again, but before that time
To be a new-born.
O! where are those wrinkles which I wear?
Whose eyes I dine in th’ cheeks,
When all mine are to my breast the world,
I take their beauty, but mine heart is sad:
But to myself, which they owe the world,
The world is still so sad and so dear!
So my heart would not mourn so sad a poor,
Or so dear,
So loving, so blessed, so happy,
Would be a world to scorn, and so despised.
‘O, my dear friend! be assured,
That I shall do my best, that nothing shall harm me;
Or I shall make a false, and thou willst never hate me;
That thou shalt never make a false, and thou shalt never love me;
Or thou shalt make false, and thou shalt love me,
And that thou shalt not be love is a false deed:
For my true love, therefore, is but love,
That thou willst not love me as thou willst be,
That thou shall never love me as thou willst be,
And this is the fact.
“When thou art done, you will not leave me,
When thou art done, you will not leave me.
The maid of my soul,
Sick of all the sorrows which she takes;
Thou must not leave her, nor make her sad,
For there is no time, in the whole world,
That may see thee.
‘Then I did make thee sad, that thou mayst be remembered,
Thy true love, my true love, will die.
But, now that thou hast come, how shall I know,
How, now that thou hast come, how shall I know
Who I am?
My true love, my true love, will live forever,
That my love will live again, and so will my love.
But, then, my love, my true love, will die.
“What false and slanderous, what foul falsehood
To kill this youth,
Whose face she had never seen!
what slanderous, what foul falsehood
To kill this maiden, whose cheeks are full of tears!
Whose eyes were still upon him in the night,
Her heart now in his, his heart now in mine.
Then the maid of thy soul
Whose eyes were still upon him in the night,
Her heart now in his, his heart now in mine;
But now, that thou hast come, how shall I know,
Where I am?
Who is it that shall know me, and where am I?
O, my dear friend! thou art such a silly child,
That I love so little with love and disdain,
that I wish none that looks at me but my own eye:
Whose eyes did they see, their ears did not hear,
Which they saw, their ears did not hear,
Which they did not hear, but their hearts did hear:
And they all saw me with their lips open,
And they all saw me with their mouths closed;
I have had some tears, others were tears.
O, thy love, thy true love,
That my love did make me weep, and did drown;
My love did make me cry, and did drown;
My love did make my heart weep, and did drown;
And my heart did drown, and did drown;
My heart did drown, and did drown;
My heart did drown, and did drown;
My heart did drown, and did drown;
My heart did drown, and did drown;
My heart did drown, and did drown;
My heart did drown, and did drown;
My heart did drown, and did drown;
My heart did drown, and did drown;
My heart did drown, and did drown;
My heart


======== CHECKPOINT 017 OUTPUT # 005 ========

ivia from him, and he said to her, ‘How shall I kill my daughter, and do her harm?
‘The young man with his back she would slay; and now she looks up to me.
‘But what’s more is that he hath not touched me,
That my daughter’s death must have begun!
As she’s her own fault; as I can see and she cannot see,
But she can neither suspect nor help me,
My soul shall be her slave.
‘I will never make aught of him for this:
Nor for thee this, for he must bear
the deed for all his worth.
‘And to me this is no help to him,
For he hath no self to blame,
Nor to me nothing but his self.”
‘Hail, thou fool! but where’s thy life in thee?
I am in mourning, as in many graves.
‘If he have been guilty of murder, he did not kill;
His hand did give away his crime;
The guilt he so willingly gave it,
It had given all his self a new life.
But I love her dearly, and do love thee,
Since he did not deserve it.
‘If you, as I do, believe the murder
The guilt you did not bear is true,
And if you, as I do, not believe the truth,
Then the guilt which you did bear is true,
But the guilty you did bear is false,
and that which the guilt did not bear was true,
The truth he, that is guilty,
Was but a coward who, with his cowardice,
‘d all that he could have.
‘You should, if you desire to make me your slave,
Thou alone art mine; the slave of thy heart,
Thou alone art mine, and it will not be for thee.
The devil, in love with his slave,
That did kill his life with his death,
And in love with his life did kill his shame:
Therefore you shall not kill me, nor live by my love,
When my shame is made clear, though thy guilt be plain,
I can never forgive my wife, nor for thee,
nor for her whose heart is bleeding:
For I did murder her, thou dost kill her;
I can do nothing to satisfy thy desire;
Nor do I love her nor give her much ransom.
‘But where’s the reason why thou dost love me?
Where is my heart to do wrong,
To steal, steal from me, and from my slave,
If thou art so bold, why hast my heart to do wrong?
For what canst thou steal, if thou art so bold,
That my heart is so hard?
Whilst in thy heart, I feel like a dove!
‘”But she, in a little heart, gave me life,
Thy heart hath no end; that life is mine alone.
And thus to the love of my life,
To love of mine husband and me,
To love of thee, and not to thee.
She, that in that love did make life fair
Lustful with her own body’s parts and content with her mind,
And in her mind did make love fair,
And it was in my love that all this is made;
She that was loved in my love did do so;
And now, this was my death, this was my death,
And now it was mine: I am yours, and this is my death.
‘If thou wouldst let me die, I will live.’
Then she did raise up a hand to answer him,
And with this hand he did say: ‘If thou wouldst not permit me,
If thou wouldst permit me to live,
Then for me this is my death, this is my life,
And this is mine: and this is mine, that is mine,
That is mine, and mine, that is mine.
‘For so that this world’s woes are so far away;
Thus, I will do not fear this world’s woes,
But my mind that knows well is to make some noise,
That may entertain the thoughts of my being.
Thy lips, thy lips are as sweet as sweet flowers,
O love, the sweetest part of mine soul,
Thy heart is not my heart, but my heart is thy heart.
When, with the voice that runs in me,
I hear her cry, O love, I love thee,
Thy heart is mine, mine is mine, thy heart thy heart.
‘Now I hear the wail of his face,
And his hand I see with my eye,
And his hand I behold with my eye;
He hears his breath, and he cries in his heart:
‘Ah! how


======== CHECKPOINT 018 OUTPUT # 001 ========

throat and his face was pale and he gave a long kiss upon his lips, and he had a kiss of the eyes, a kiss of his cheek, a kiss of his chin, and a kiss of his lips, he did his best to kiss every part of his body, and the worst part of his face was black, as in a dark tomb.
“O, madam!” quoth she, “do not you hear that poor Lucrece is dead? do you not hear that her sweet little love is in thy mind, that her beauty is in mine eye? in thy eyes my eye, mine eye, yours alone; I am one; thou art two; one to thee I am, thou art three; thou art all, all three.
“‘If a heart be a knife or knife not a knife,’ quoth she, ‘a knife is not a knife,’
‘No knife can touch me; all I do is break my heart’s heart’s heart; no knife can kill my heart; all I do is love a knife.’
‘No knife I shall kill, but if I find a knife that’s not in my heart’s hand,
I’ll kill that knife and then you’ll not kill me; I’ll kill you, and I’ll kill you again, and then you’ll kill me again,
So I beg pardon.”
“No,” quoth she, “I know of no murders that can be done to me, and if you ever do see a man whose blood is pure,
Look here, that where the bleeding is in the blood,
Or where the stain is in the stain,
If they were one, they would bleed, but where the stain is in the stain,
And if the stain is no more than water, they will drink their own blood.”
‘But what in you will not bleed in blood,
Will you not bleed in the blood that is so bloodless? what in you will not bleed in the blood that is so bloodless?
‘When it is so hot, when it is so cold,
And when it is so hot that no eye nor ear sees it,
Then you know, my love, my love of thee must stay;
If it is so hot, I will stay; if it is so cold, I will stay;
I must stay my love’s side, my love’s side, my love’s side.’
‘”But where do I get my love’s help, how can I get it by false tricks?
And when I am to be thy judge,
When you are mine, then you must not be a judge.
When I am all your judge, then you are mine;
When you are mine, then you are my judgment.
O madam, when in my soul are my eyes mine eyes have sight of my face,
And all their eyes have see’st their beauty and every thing their name;
And as their eyes are in my face, so my head is in their sight;
So this is what a man, like a child to a lion,
When he is in his cradle, looks upon his face, and his face,
And then his face is in mine eyes, and mine eyes in yours,
And to say, what do you do with my life?”
“‘I do not like death,
As you do,’ quoth she, ‘I do not like death,
As you do.’
“If you love me, thou wilt not love me,
If thou love me, thou wilt not love me;
If thou love me, thou wilt not love me;
If thou love me, thou wilt not love me;
If thou love me, thou wilt not love me;
If thou love me, thou wilt not love me;
If thou love me, thou wilt not love me;
If thou love me, thou wilt not love me;
If thou love me, thou wilt not love me;
If thou love me, thou wilt not love me;
If thou love me, thou wilt not love me;
If thou love me, thou wilt not love me;
If thou love me, thou wilt not love me;
If thou love me, thou wilt not love me;
If thou love me, thou wilt not love me;
If thou love me, thou wilt not love me;
If thou love me, thou wilt not love me;
If thou love me, thou wilt not love me;
If thou love me, thou wilt not love me;
if thou love me, thou wilt not love me;
If thou love me, thou wilt not love me;
If thou love me, thou wilt not love me;
if thou love me, thou wilt not love me;
If thou love me, thou wilt not love


======== CHECKPOINT 018 OUTPUT # 002 ========

upstream, as it turns, and you know how to do your duty;
And when you are the first, thou art the last,
And so thou art the first and the last in thy life.
The way thou shouldst go by, it might seem to thy poor heart
That thy self is dead and thou mayst live a thousand years;
And for thee, for mineself, all shall live
And all of them as they were in thee.
But that it may appear, that in thy self
In every sense can be understood, is not the true.
“But now he says, ‘Thou wilt be proud of the sun,
If thou wouldst take to thine own course
And make this thy own, this that of thy true self will remain
Upon thy self’s self as it is,
That all that is and ever shall be to be;
Whilst on thy own body all this earth hath made
So much that it hath made the world,
And so little that I love thee so much,
Which, although thou dost be of thy kind,
I shall not be my servant till it be done,
And yet yet my love, as you would say, is worth that which it is worth:
No, my love is not worth that I know
When all that I owe you from you is paid,
Mine is nothing else, nor any thing else,
Nor to whom you have any respect, I would have,
But to my love I did pay him for your love.
No, what your love is, I am not your love;
For I do not care of thee, nor do I love thee;
But when in your love I beheld,
And by your love beheld your love is still,
that I may know not whether thou should be proud of me,
Or not be proud of my self, but to that end,
That I may know thee, but I do not know whether thou should be proud of me.
“Thou mayst not be, but thou art:
I am thy self, and all others,
And I love them both, but it is my self to keep,
Thou art to me as if I had no self,
And so being, in the self of the self,
I did give thee my own self and my own self,
And it shall never be the self that in thee
Thou canst, but my own self, and thy self,
And I did give thee thy self and thy self,
And it shall never be the self that in thee
Thou canst, but my self, and thy self,
And the self that in thee is mine.
“But I am not your self, nor shall you be
A true husband or husband a true wife;
And if I in the self have no love
Myself to teach thee, nor I thyself,
Yet when thy self hath no love, nor thy self to teach
Mine self to teach, mine self will teach thee
And my self to teach, mine self will teach thee.
Thou canst be, but if thou dost have love,
Thou canst not be, but thou dost not have mine:
No, my love is not worth that I know
When all that I owe you from you is paid;
That which you owe me from me,
Thou canst not be my love, nor ever be mine:
No, my love is not worth that I know
When all that I owe you from you is paid;
Thou canst never be my love, nor ever be mine;
No, my love is not worth that I know
When all that I owe you from you is paid;
That which I owe you from you,
Thou canst never be my love, nor ever be mine;
No, my love is not worth that I know;
Thou canst never be my love, nor ever be mine;
No, my love is not worth that I know;
Thou canst never be my love, nor ever be mine;
No, my love is not worth that I know;
Thou canst never be my love, nor ever be mine;
No, my love is not worth that I know;
Thou canst never be my love, nor ever be mine;
No, my love is not worth that I know;
Thou canst never be my love, nor ever be mine;
No, my love is not worth that I know;
Thou canst never be my love, nor ever be mine;
No, my love is not worth that I know;
No, my love is not worth that I know;
No, my love is not worth that I know;
No, my love is not worth that


======== CHECKPOINT 018 OUTPUT # 003 ========

imes and that were not yet there; but being assured to do honour to them, they were kept so well that they may be told of them, and that others, or none, might be heard.
“Now the way’s back, for the world must not see thy majesty’s pleasure;
She looks up, and with deep eyes she finds thy face buried;
In shame’s shadow, and no man’s eyes but the dead.
The night in the cave’s glow did not stain the earth;
She looks back again, to hear the deep, but to not find it.
‘So you see the night’s eye, and see, as it behooves thee,
The night’s eye, the day’s eye, and the night’s eye.’
‘And they that come from heaven,
To the earth, and from the air,
To the ocean, and from the sky,
To the hell, and from thence,
That’s their own and of my self’s control:
They were all there when I began to fear;
What did they say, but they did so well,
When he was so well that he doth seem so much worse?
If thou knowest, thou mightst well be a fool.
For though all that my eye hath done in thee,
My self, my self, my self, my self
Is but a part, one part: for all that I am,
And all this I do,
That I all the world and the world
Whereon I look to thee is a truth,
To know thy self’s face and of mine self’s mind;
And in this truth thou shouldst know the true beauty of them;
To all this, all this, all this, thou shouldst know what I am,
For the beauty I love, the beauty I am,
To love and to love’s self, all these things are love,
But to the self, the self is love’s self,
And to self’s self, to self’s self’s self,
Aself that thou wilt see in them,
So that thou canst see the self in them,
Love’s self that love did make, and yet
That which did make love’s self, it did not make
Love’s self that the self that it did make,
To love and to love’s self, it did not make
love’s self that the self that it did make,
The self that love made, and yet it did not make,
For beauty is like a man of a mistress,
And the love that I do thou dost,
To the love that thou wilt make the love that thou canst love.
Therefore, I have sworn this, for fear that thy life
shall stain the earth with false and false words,
When the stars and the clouds shall come in light;
And from thence, on the mountain-tops in my breast
Whereon it appears that I lie,
Or as a woman is, she is the mother,
She holds my love; and therefore in love shall I live;
But on him lies the world that is lost;
To me that is to thee remains the world that is not,
For that to me remains life.
‘Thou art such a thing, that I in thee still fear;
And in thee, in me, in thee
To die and to die again to do the same.’
And her voice was not as heavy as in thy breast.
“As I in thee still fear, so much hath the world in me,
My fear grows still and grows ever greater,
Like a mountain doth rise, so do I tremble from the top,
And as a lion doth leap out of the way,
To catch the wolf that lays hold of my rider,
And so did the tiger and deer, and all other living creatures;
O where are these living creatures of such a beauty?
O where are these creatures that live in such danger,
And that they in fear are so many to chase?
What is the nature of the earth, that is such a thing?
Wherein where are these living creatures of such a beauty?
What is the nature of the heaven that lies in her midst?
Wherein where are these living creatures of such a beauty?
Wherein where is all that that is within,
That lies within thee, and thou shouldst die in her sight?
Wherein in thy own heart I live, thou art my living,
This thou art that, in thy own self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy


======== CHECKPOINT 018 OUTPUT # 004 ========

fuller-worn, unspoilt, and yet in such an old form as his might take hold of the eyes of those in whom his view might best be seen, being, as it were, in one of those eyes, and being in another in his mind, being the subject of his thought, he had the advantage of his eye being one, and both in him being the subject of his thought being the object thereof.

And being thus, I ask you in respect of my lord, and to all whom thou lovst, I say, and in respect of all that I have, I did not say, and not of mine own reason; I cannot prove,

But I tell you not what I did say, nor the reason; my reason is none but mine own,

In regard that in some parts of my mind I was right and right;
In regard that my own reason was wrong and wrong.

Therefore,
As you are not ignorant in that which thou art,
And for mine part do well to lend
To thy own benefit,
O to whom I have made your hand to assist;
Who, being that, thou hast never done thy harm,
In that thy self hath done mine, and that thy self hath done mine;
Now thou shalt not be my fault, nor my fault mine;
And so far as my fault I shall pay thee with all my heart:
For love’s sake, thou art my debtor, and I love thee:
thou art my servant and my servant’s, and I will be my slave
To pay for thee, if thou dost abide the trespass of thy debt.

(Necessity being not a true law,
The fault of our part will be mine to show;
Thy will be no excuse nor excuse of thy worth;
Thy will be nothing, and thy will not be mine.)

How then can I excuse myself, when I do not repent?
How then can I excuse myself when I do not repent?
And what of the rest of my body, and of my soul,
Are there to speak of your faults?
My own body in this body is like to thee,
Who, in his body’s pure grace, made an age of thy body,
The age of thee, in his body’s fair grace;
He was a virgin, in the heart of a man,
She was a slave, in her body in the heart of a man;
The world was dead before he had created it,
And now the world’s dead before he had created it.
The world did not know the nature of his body;
Who knew it not, and therefore did he kill
His flesh; he must have done it, that he may live.
The world is dead, the world was born, and so did he die;
As soon as he fell dead, and as soon as he was done dead,
So then did he die with him, his living flesh still alive.
“Poor world!” cries she;
“Look where I am, and look at what my body is made of,
And how hard this thing I did do is in that which is laid
To bear me up again with weeping, so fast she doth moan.
If thou, the sweet one, and my sweet heart, did see
That a boy with a sister was not her son,
That a rich man with a widow was not his wife,
That poor maids were not his daughters’ slaves,
That men of silver were not his subjects,
That beauty and all beauty were his;
And all beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty, beauty


======== CHECKPOINT 018 OUTPUT # 005 ========

assigning to him in his youth;
And thus as to the rest he, in this respect, is like a kind of fire:
From my youth to my youth I have never had aught like him,
My youth being of this, I owe my youth to thee.
She, therefore, takes me up in her breast,
To show herself so fair, so fair, and so kind,
To have done me an honour, or at least to have been so:
For when she sees my love, she gives him that pleasure;
To give him that pleasure I have no pleasure in,
That I could not express by it, let me show him by it.
‘In your beauty,’ quoth she, ‘let me have pity for thee,
That every one is mine, every one loves thee,
But if thou dost desire to rob my dear mother,
Thy poor soul knows that my love is not worth-good,
Yet thy self shall not survive thee,
Or in thee the whole thing shall be spent;
But the good that thou hast should be done.
“When thou hast begun, and have begun to be,
Thou art gone, or thy soul hast lost his self.
For my sake, O muse of mine mind,
In thy good time thou hast been born to be alive,
And when thou art gone, thou art gone again;
Thou art in me dead, my soul my love,
For the dead I have dead, the dead I did live:
My soul I have lost again.
Thou art dead, and the dead are dead;
Then by thy love, the dead are dead.
“As for me, thou wilt be dead, and by thy love
I am dead, and thou art dead.
But, behold, I am dead; and my love will not die,
And my life never stops, till it ends.
“For the sake of mine, my love, my life,
I make the time I wish it to end;
And it shall never end, nor the time till I do end;
Therefore it will end, but no time till I begin.
O, for this end, thou dost not say,
‘That thou art the end of this,’ or that I am the end of this.
“The day then shall be my death, and now it shall be my living;
Thy love will never end, nor my love will stop,
And thy life will never end, nor my life shall stop.
“For so long my soul have been with thee,
That I have not yet seen thee in thy beauty,
Whose beauty, like thy beauty, still remain,
And thou art my life, and my life, and thou art my life,
When all this beauty dies, then my life, my life, thy life shall live.
‘”And as the fire burning on my soul had done,
The fire which was so kind and kind with me
To burn for ever gave life to me;
And then the fire which had set the fire on my soul,
Made me the true love of thy death,
And this death I did give thee.
O, that thou art the true love of thy death,
Therefore I give thee what thou wilt receive;
For this thou hast done, not to me,
But to my death, when the time for this end be,
For the time in which I have expired shall be,
In which my name shall be remembered to all that live
The eternity that shall be from me,
And never the eternity I have not seen to be,
Nor did I see myself, not in thee:
Then why dost thou love to die?”
She gives me this, as if to praise him in her eyes;
She gives this in the midst of tears, to show him that sorrow had been,
And that he may weep at my heart, that he may weep,
Which is too strong a bond, that it can do no harm.
“My love is weak, but not as weak as thou giv’st,
Which in thy bosom hath a strong foundation,
And which in thy bosom lends strength,
That in thy bosom it lends weakness;
That thou, being the bond of such strength,
Is not weak as I am, but strong,
That thou art strong as thou art weak,
And that I am strong as thou is strong,
Which thou, being the bond of such strength,
Is strong as thou is strong,
And strong as thou is strong,
Thy body be strong as thou be strong,
Thy body be strong as thou be strong,
And strong as thou be strong,
Thy body be strong as thou be strong,
Thy body be strong as thou be strong.


======== CHECKPOINT 019 OUTPUT # 001 ========

Content of their being.
This hath been so, as you see I in my soul,
O fair goddess, that with all my will,
By the grace of God in me may be done good,
And in my loving love, by the grace of heaven,
Thus did he bring forth a spirit of his,
Which in such a moment, when he had seen this
All from the sight of the eyes,
Till now, the earth is not the earth but thee,
Which by thy light I still see in thy sight
Whilst in mine eyes it shows thee still thy true love.
This hath been so, as you see I in my soul,
O fair goddess, that with all my will,
In my loving love, by the grace of heaven,
Thy heavenly beauty, through the grace of heaven,
Shall I show thee how thy pure, my being,
Whose life is in thee, and not to thee.
“O what kind of grace can I render?
When I can see thy lovely life,
Who, as a babe in thy bosom,
Hath seen the youth of the earth, whose love was long
And still the tender age is,
With love that is, that for love of his,
His being shall be the end.
The sun, now in the sky, is at my gate,
And it shall not be for my sake.
The wind, now at my gates,
With gentle wind’s wind, the wind that will not depart,
And with gentle wind’s wind, all that is still,
Will in that which remains, that which appears,
When all that is, is, that which is still and I,
My love, or all that I am, is not with thee,
My sweet love, but with thy sweet love,
Mine love is not with thee, but for thy sake.
‘So the woe, if it should be, hath no end.
If it be not, let it not end.
Then where art I, then why should I give thee so much?
If thou wilt not give me, that thou canst
A living child, to give thee to me,
And thou to mine, in my name, be a living child,
But from my loving care, thou wilt have my living hand,
Thy life to whom I have given thee, to live the life
In thy life that thou mayst have,
Thy life to whom I gave thee, to live the life
In thee that I have given thee, and thy life
To whom I have given thee, to live the life
in thy life that I give thee, and all this unto thee,
That by thy goodness and my love might live this life,
When, therefore, thy self, through thy love, be no more,
I can neither live with thee nor live with thee,
That life is no better than that that which thou hast done.
‘”Then where art I, then why should I give thee so much?”
“Well, it may be said that no one doth lie,
Or to live in my heart, I am made to live:
But for my living, my loving care, my love is made to live,
My loving care, all my love is made to live,
To survive all of this I will die,
And all that living living thing in me that cannot live,
Whilst I live, all living things in me live,
That which lives is living, all that I can live.”
“So that no one doth lie,
The self of living lives is living, and all this dead:
The self of living lives is living, all that living thing is dead,
It is living, all that is dead it breathes,
It is dead, all that is dead it eats,
It is dead, all that is dead it dies,
It is dead, all that is dead it breathes,
No living thing breathes, but death, the dead,
And I see the sick in my eyes;
I see the dead in my teeth,
And there is the dead, in my head,
And there is the dead, in my mind:
And now I am dead, I am in thy heart.
“O my dear friend, where are these verses
That thou art now reading?
O my dear friend, where havest I written these words
What will I write soon?
I have no book, and henceforth my verse shall read
And be read aloud till I write again.
So let it not then seem, then thy voice may sound;
I never write, nor hear thy voice, nor feel thy voice,
Nor know thy mind, nor breathe thy breath.
For thou art dead, I have seen thee, I have


======== CHECKPOINT 019 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Adin.

“O, why should I, my poor friend, despise thee, for thy love is weakly sought and weakly sought, and cannot be seen?

But my beloved son, with this I’ll take thee, that thou mayst see
The beauty of thy soul and to-morrow’s sight.

‘Tis as they say that all things are a gift of thy heart;
When I have so much leisure for my affairs,
My heart, the more blessed, will lend you my power;
And if, though I find my heart still in a state of disuse,
To be gone, then is it that hath dined in such a state,
Or else it is mine that lends me all power?
Nor can I be seen by those who know not;
Who are so bold to give them that praise.
‘But if thou art seen, do not thou art an old man;
Thy eye hath an eye to be seen by those who know not.
“The sun that burns in the sky
And the moon with the clouds is one thing;
For what colour is she, the earth that burns,
Whose flame is all that she hath seen?
What colour is she, that light’s shade shall shine?
Whose light shall shine is the shade of all the world,
When the light of that great sun shall be like my eye,
Then by the sun’s sweet light shall be born,
And through the heaven of heaven shall light be seen.”

So I will, so that I can make the most of my love,
That thou alone canst see them, the true love doth see
O, what can I see, no less than my love’s,
Truly I see all that doth adore thee,
Of which doth I love the true doth see thee;
And all of you doth be mine eyes, my eyes doth see thee;
But I am all my own, that you do not think I myself doth know.
Yet I will, so that I can be seen
Of all the rest of your hearts with the love of love.
This sweet love doth dwell in mine,
But I, thou art the same, thy thoughts in mine,
Mine eyes are your eyes, mine heart is mine, mine heart is mine.
But being the same to me, my heart shall look like thee.
And as one day, a night, and a day,
Each in my self I’ll take your pity.
If you, then have the power to make my dear love
Make thy bed of shame, and I be a false witness.
For by thy love’s love’s love thou hast so loved;
That thy pride, thy virtue’s shame,
And thy honour’s shame, and my honour’s honour’s dishonour,
Are two different things, of one and the other:
‘But I do desire it, and I wish for it so,
That in thee may I live; I hope to live till thou live.
Then my friend, my friend that I have become,
Till my time with thee shall end, till my time with thee shall last.
For thou art mine; my heart’s desire is mine, my heart’s hope is mine;
Thy will is my will, my will is thy will;
Thy will is mine, mine will is mine; and my will is thy will,
And my will is mine to do, my will is thy will to do,
And my will is mine to do, mine will is thy will to do,
And my will is mine to do, mine will is thy will to do,
And my will is mine to do, mine will is thy will to do;
Thy will is mine, my will is mine; and mine is thy will to do,
And my will is mine to do, mine is thy will to do;
Thy will is mine, mine is mine; and mine is thy will to do,
And my will is mine to do, mine is thy will to do;
And mine is mine to do, mine is thy will to do,
And mine is mine to do, mine is thy will to do;
And mine is mine to do, mine is thy will to do,
And mine is mine to do, mine is thy will to do.
‘Thy will is mine, thy will is mine;
Thy will is mine, thy will is mine;
Thy will is mine, thy will is mine;
Thy will is mine, thy will is mine;
Thy will is mine, thy will is mine;
Thy will is mine, thy will is mine;
Thy will is mine, thy will is mine;
Thy will is mine, thy will is mine;


======== CHECKPOINT 019 OUTPUT # 003 ========

meshes.

“Oh dear, did I get thee out of my way

Of that dear, and I will take my leave;

Yet I cannot say what is but a poor hart:
‘Tis I, that thou lov’st me
Who hath stolen from me a child,
that thy love-sickly nature
Couldst not possess, and then thou wert left alone.
So as thou wast my husband and thy love’s husband,
A false love-cure bred by false words and words,
That with their falseness and their adulterous mouths
And their infamy they could do no harm;
Who would not, with his ungodly tongue, say, “This will not change
The love, that thou art in my womb,
To have thy sweet breath be his sweet breath;
If he be dead I can remain by him.”
Thus I love her in the name of one,
When she is my love and my husband is my husband,
And she in my heart is my love,
To be and not to be and never to be.
‘Tis that I am mine own self, that thou mayst help
To love others like me,
And in the hope of being all-wise my love,
Make thee my wife, my love, my love, my love, my love
I do beg pardon to thy name,
And then, ’tis a true, simple excuse,
To say, ‘My love, that is in thee,
Who doth all wrong my true self;
For though thou me best, yet canst make me wrong,
And as thou wilt, yet canst make me wrong.
When, for the sake of my self-restored love,
My self is all mine, the good for all,
But to me is my good alone, and the bad my friend;
This shall, to my grief, be my truth,
and my sorrow my truth with my heart.
O, this is the truth! the truth, that thou so lov’st,
That I may love you in thy sight!
When thou shalt see me weep in my heart
My heart’s sweet heart will weep; then thy tears shall be:
thou dost not care how I love thee,
For all my heart’s love is mine, the thing that doth love thee,
And I fear not, nor canst but say to thee,
That my soul will love thee and be my friend,
And I love thee that thou art all I have,
Thy self and my soul are all my body,
The self, and all that thou art my self.
Therefore let thyself be like unto thee,
And therefore I cannot make thyself the object
Of my own self’s pleasure,
Nor of thy own good, nor of thy worth’s loss:
But I must not leave thy self to live
To make thee my friend again.
And then from thy side came I the man of that name
As if it were my love, or the love of thy self;
Nor did he not say what he did so:
I could never do or say, but that I should,
Had the man of the name done me wrong;
He told me this, and in a loud voice
I said this, and in a strong voice I was gone.
If thou hast done my part, yet thou art still
Thy self, which is in thee in all.
But that all this my self could do,
Thy self, thou hast no self, and yet thou art mine.
Whose act is this, the true act which I do?
When thou hast thy self, and it is in thee,
And that thou hast my self, my self is my self,
Which it is thy self, my self that my self hath:
And from this then it cannot be,
If thou art not my self.
“And now, this day my life is at hand,
As a slave to the slave, whose name I cannot know;
I am still here for thee, yet again for thy name:
Thus, now, now, as thou art now, my life shall not die,
Nor, if thou wilt live, be ever my life.
My love, my love, my love, my love, my love, my love, my love,
‘My love,’ quoth she, ‘do not die; for it hath not died.
For if thou wilt live, then die.
And so to-morrow shall the night return,
To the place where I died, where I had slain.
And now my love is in my life, my love in my love,
As if it was mine, my love in my love.
Then in thy love, in thy


======== CHECKPOINT 019 OUTPUT # 004 ========

ap was of a kind of purple or black; or that she had a white heart, whereon all her parts she should see, that seemed more than she might see in him
I did believe thee not but on the contrary,
And, like myself, by me do seem thou to be more iniquitous than the truth.
Now my dear love, let not his face be stained;
Whilst he takes his bath, he bids me lay still,
O for she had thought that I had never seen him,
And, if he would kiss her so, how to do it in his bed.
‘The sight of her was not, but she thought it must be,
As if she were an angel, or, as she supposed,
As if she were a fairy, or of a kind of such beauty,
Who were seen to have gone forth with a new,
That was gone but from her breast whereon he would take
From her the breath that she had made.
‘Now in all my mind I love you with a soft, gentle heart,
And when I perceive that you love me with a heart
Full of love, I am so moved, and so delighted
To see the tears that are there to be shed;
Even as the flood that consumes the world,
The flood that is the fountain of all creation,
The flood that is the fountain of all life,
The flood that is the fountain of all the earth,
The flood that is the fountain of all that life,
O all these the flood and all those that were born:
Thy flood, thou thy pure water, thy self, thy body, thy mind,
O all these thy pure things, thy self, thy soul, thy brain, thy heart:
All these thy things, thy self, thy self, thy brain, thy heart;
Thy self, thy self, thy self, thy soul, thy brain, thy heart;
all these thy things, thy self, thy self, thy soul, thy heart:
All these thy things, thy self, thy self, thy soul, thy heart:
All these thy things, thy self, thy self, thy soul, thy heart:
All these thy things, thy self, thy self, thy soul, thy brain:
And all these thy things, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy heart, thy mind, thy eye, thy ear, thy ear:
And all these thy things, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy soul, thy brain, thy heart, thy ear, thy ear:
Thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy soul, thy heart, thy ear, thy ear:
And all these thy things, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy brain, thy ear, thy ear, thy ear, thy ear:
And all these thy things, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy soul, thy heart, thy ear:
Thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy soul, thy heart, thy ear, thy ear, thy ear, thy ear:
And all these thy things, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy brain, thy ear, thy ear, thy ear, thy ear, thy ear, thy ear:
Thy self, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy brain, thy ear, thy ear, thy ear, thy ear, thy ear, thy ear:
And all these thy things, thy self, thy self, thy self, thy brain, thy ear, thy ear, thy ear, thy ear, thy ear:
O my sweet son, thou dost be such a fool,
That when thou wilt find my sweet son,
To lend me your sweet will and to lend you mine,
My sweet love shall be with thee and with me.
But now thou art alone, and it is for my sake that thou shouldst bear it,
That thou shouldst bear me so dearly, that thou shouldst bear me so young,
O how many hours I should spend in my sorrow!
Now do not say that thou shouldst bear me, that thyself will bear me,
To bear thee a thousand hours worth of me:
To bear thyself a thousand hours worth of me:
To bear myself a thousand hours worth of me:
That thou dost bear thyself a thousand hours worth of me:
That thou dost bear me one hundred hours worth of me,
So thou dost bear it one hundred hours worth of me,
O who is my self! who is my self to bear me the more?
Who is my self to bear me the more?
Who is my self to bear the more?
Who is my self to bear this one thousand hours worth of me?
Which one is my self to bear this one thousand hours


======== CHECKPOINT 019 OUTPUT # 005 ========

onto that he may see all the glory of this night, and to enjoy all his glory in his own sight, and all his shame, with his own eyes he is not seen.
But this time the night-god said,
Whose hour is this, where art thou, where is thy place, and where hath thou come,
For I should behold your beauty as thou beholdest me,
And as thou beholdest me, so shall I behold thy beauty,
And as thou beholdest me, so shall I behold thy beauty,
For love hath no appetite,
For I love neither the love of love but my own love,
But the love of lust is love to me,
and the love of love is love to me but my own love,
The love of love is the love of my love,
And of my love my love is my own love,
When Love is made like unto man,
And like unto woman so is Love made unto man.
But then I have thought, I have thought, my thought is false,
Nor will I again think of what thou canst tell me,
But if I do think of nothing, what I will tell thee:
And then if thou wilt read this thy thoughts are mine:
My thoughts shall not prove my lies true,
but my deeds, and mine self’s words will prove my lies true:
My thoughts shall not prove my deeds true;
My thoughts shall not prove my self’s words true:
My thoughts shall not prove my self’s words true;
My thoughts shall not prove my self’s words true:
My thoughts shall not prove my self’s words true;
And all this I did do, all this did take place,
Wherein the words he said, ‘And my soul’s pride’ fell,
His praise of him came forth his beauty,
And now he himself did all this;
‘And my shame is no excuse for this,’ quoth he.
“O then, thou art my friend,” quoth she, “but not for my death,
If that be my purpose, thou art my self;
As thy self’s honour was my honour, thy self’s honour was mine;
Thou art my self’s honour, thy self’s honour was mine.”
And she again said, “Thou art my love, my self’s honour is mine;
For thou art my self’s honour, thy self’s honour is mine;
Thou art my self’s honour, thy self’s honour is mine;
And thou art mineself’s honour, my self’s honour is mine.”
So she again began, “Thou art my dear, and my love is mine.”
“Ay, so be it; and, therefore, I will not fear thee.”
Then did they leave, they having done,
So did they leave each other, the fair lady and her son.
O, how did this sad-feeling youth of mine,
Who had no youth to love nor no father to have,
Who was of so young a state, when her father was dead?
Who, now, could have seen with such eyes a sad-feeling man,
That his true self in his death with such sorrow?
He being dead, could not hold to a light;
And when he was slain in battle,
He with an angry cry was struck with fear:
‘My friend, thy true self being slain in thy self!
If you did not tell me, my love’s decease
Upon this self’s grave’d grave, thy love’s decease doth lie
A thousand times the world’s proudest treasure doth dwell,
Whose love, thou art mine, thy love’s true self is mine;
And by thy love dost thou enter a kingdom
That doth know you shall live as my love’s husband doth live;
And I shall die to honour thy self’s sake,
And mine self’s sake to honour my self’s sake,
As thy self’s honour is thy self’s honour, and mineself’s honour is mine,
Like thy self’s honour as thou art mine, as mine self’s honour is mine.
That which thou wilt bestow, thou shalt bestow it, and for that I love,
That which thou lovst, thou lovst for that which thou lovst not:
Then thou art my treasure, my treasure is mine,
That which thou lovst, my treasure is mine,
That which thou lovst not, thou lovst not for that which thou lovst not.
That which thou lovest not, my treasure is mine,
That which thou lovest not, my treasure is mine,
That which thou lovst not, my treasure is mine,
That which thou lovst not, my treasure is mine,
That which thou lovst not, my treasure


======== CHECKPOINT 020 OUTPUT # 001 ========

innings in a two-way match, but it was all too much for him, and he did not leave his place till he had told his story.
‘What is so great about thy good, gentle father, to-day,
I can assure thee, you’ll see that thy heart is gentle.
What is your fault to my poor soul, you say?
For thou hast done thy duty well,
For thou hast done me wrong, for I love thee not so well.
My shame is like thy face to mine,
‘Then what is thy love to me, if I do not live?’
I should die, my shame in mine was not thy fault;
Yet in thee are death’s disgrace,
Which is worse than death’s shame.’
He took his chin, and, lo, she did add,
Her face, her tongue, her tongue’s cheek, all gave their seal.
“Well,” said she, “I have done a deed, that thou mightst bear
My self, and I will bear it, and thou art my self,
And this thou art my self, and this thou shalt bear it,
To bear a self in me is nothing to you.”
But as her words were sung aloud,
The old maid began in her office,
She began to speak, and with the force
And in the force in a woman with force
The old maid would exclaim, ‘Bust!’
‘Come down!’ she cried. ‘Bust me, poor man!’
‘My sweet-sad mother, and me!
The poor old friend, which now looks upon me,
Where a poor fool did rob the poor boy,
As if to spite his fair-shifting mistress,
When she did rob him again, ‘But now thou didst rob me again,
And now thou didst rob my mother’s husband.
‘Hear this, then,’ quoth she, ‘if thou wilt see how I live,
The reason thou art dead is as good as thy death,
And thou that livest live to see how I die.’
Her eyes now wink in a deep, and her lips open,
And when she takes a breath, she takes out a look of delight;
The old man looks, and then he looks,
And that’s how he sees me, how he sees me
With how he sees me that he never sees me,
Even now, with that view on his lips,
All the world that he knows, but never hears hear.
And now, in that view on my lips,
I’ll make thee see me, thou shalt know me;
And I shall have pity upon thee, for that is thy worth;
Then when I know, thou art not my self but thy self:
My self is not thy self, thou art not my self;
Nor, like the old-woman, be my self’s slave;
My self is my self but thy self:
My self is my self but thy self, but thyself’s slave:
But thy self is my self’s slave, my self’s slave,
Nor self, nor self, nor self, nor self, nor self, nor self, nor self, nor self, nor self, nor self:
This I shall prove, thou shalt prove,
I shall prove, thou shalt prove,
O my self! I am thee! thyself is thyself;
All this, in that you prove, thou shalt prove,
And all that thou shalt prove shall be true;
And for this reason thou shalt bear the blame.
“Look where the poor poor boy lies,
And behold the rich and poor and poor with that eye;
Who in the day’s time, but in the day’s time
Which the time to spend doth call his sight;
The sun being out, the sky being in,
And his eyes the clouds of heaven.
“Who ever lived, nor never did see
The golden days in their beauty,
Whose days are the hour, when their day shine,
To live their happy hours in them in the hours.
This one time she doth say,
‘O beauty, thou art not as strong as a horse;
That horse is weak, yet that horse strong:
So I will make thee strong as a rider,
And strong as my life in your heart,
Because I will not live your life in mine.
For what a life should I live, that you live,
That you have such a thing as life in me;
For what kind of life did live in me?
How is life worth that I live in life,
My life worth, my life worth,
I live to live you in life in me,
For what do you live to live in life in me,
Even to die for you in death?
That


======== CHECKPOINT 020 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Constant to find no sin, but in love
Who so long to be dead and to be left.
Which, as he fell,
Herself and the ground she fell in,
And all her beauty and her beauty was dead,
And her face and lips and lips were but one thing,
And nothing but her face and nothing else.
She would then go from thence, and leave thence.
To the gate she had found in the forest,
Which he had not, but had sworn she did find.
‘Come, my dear boy,’ quoth she, ‘this thou shalt see.
If thou see me not, tell me what thou seest
And tell it to my dear friend, whose eyes were drawn in to my heart.
“How many times have I cried, and yet the sky is dark,
Like glass in a tomb, where life and death ming.
The dead, and their lifeless parts,
That had so died with a dying heart,
The spirits that had lived that life,
And now that life’s part was dead,
But they still live, and are still in the bosom.
O my child, why have you been dead so long,
So long in life, I now see no life,
And yet the light of love I love is still alive.
My beloved, this world I have begun,
To put my face where I began, and to see
The great flower, and the huge dove, and the golden dove,
And to see the sea and to hear the wind,
And to hear the great sound of war,
And to smell the rain that falls,
The foul smell that lives in the earth,
And then it will not be, yet I am,
For to see it as I did, was to do it with sorrow.
Her lips were but the tip of the knife,
And her chin so thick, she would lie there
Till her heart was pierced and the knife pierced her tongue;
Like the knife in a knife’s wound
Came the knife in the wound where she did break:
‘My poor soul’s hand will not go,
That the knife to the knife must be put to death.’
Then she was afraid, and being afraid he did stop,
He told her that there was a knife to kill her,
And when she said that the knife did kill her,
He gave her a knife and told her the knife did kill her.
Now, that he might know what he did,
Thinking she was too young to have,
Th’other was the knife which doth cut her heart,
And the other with blood-like force
And in this he had that wound that now stood,
Like a knife of her heart to kill a living,
Or a knife of my heart to kill a dead.
‘My dear friend,’ quoth she, ‘why have you been dead so long,
So long in life, I now see no life,
The light that I love is still alive,
The fire which burns the world is gone,
And yet the world is dead, and all men are dead.
“But now,” quoth she, “if thou wilt take a look,
Mine eyes are filled with a deep love,
For I was once a man, and yet I am not
A man of twenty, nor is she thy mother,
And therefore thou art not my father;
Thy honour shall not lie with mine eyes.
‘But it was with love that thou ganst me,
And that thou ganst mine eyes,
And I that thou ganst me was not born,
For thou wast born of a living thing
And this was my body, which was born of that thing:
And now thou art the living thing of me,
The living thing of my mind,
and this is my mind, and this is my mind,
That thou hast not seen and heard
that which thou wilt see;
So thou must I know thy purpose.
If I had no mind, I might have no heart.
“But now,” quoth she, “if I have no mind,
And with my eyes that eye which hears no wind,
The wind that is to me drowneth out all my breath.
For with the breathless and trembling breath
That he breathes I am breathless,
And the water that breathes me drowneth all my breath:
O, what kind of grief are they!
Whose sorrows, sorrows, woes, sorrows, sorrows,
Shall that which they so often call sorrow,
Whose sighs, sorrows, sorrows, sorrows, sorrows, sorrows, sorrows, sorrows,
Who would sing of one in his woes,
O my wretched slave, where thy woes


======== CHECKPOINT 020 OUTPUT # 003 ========

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======== CHECKPOINT 020 OUTPUT # 004 ========

itled in their absence to say the name,
To say all they know that they knew:
Then the sun and the moon were there,
They say they saw those two, the one being pale.
When I saw the painter,
When I saw the painter’s shadow,
The painter stood as it did before,
The painter was still, and now was gone.
My heart trembled, and my heart quivered;
As I lay on my bed I felt the sun rising from his sky;
And at the door of my chamber I saw him open,
With the knife that had cut away my love,
That knife, as his flesh did make his life,
Whose flesh, the knife he had used,
Was in his eye, and in his cheek and cheek
The mark of his crime.
“For I do not look upon his crime,
Though at my coming death in thee,
His tears must dry their tears,
And I know he loves my woes.
‘What is that to make my death so,
That is the death of love,
That hath wrought his doom in his eyes?
“Why do I think thou that the end of my life shall be,
To see his death with my eyes?
Why have I not seen his death with your eyes?
Where is the truth that thou art in thy heart?
When thou art mine, thou art in mine,
For whereon I was when thy light was gone,
My shadow I still knew but through you,
Like that which I am, still you in me,
With which it shall be thy self in me.”
Love, to whom thou art my friend,
Thy sight is still there but through my eye;
‘O Love, thou art the cause of my sin!
But what kind of love should this be,
Who so lovingly doth make thee to weep,
When you with all thy loving power,
Give praise to the one that gives thee such,
And to the one that makes me the subject?
Who, being such as my own self,
Thy true self hath done for ever,
To make thee this thing from thee,
to tell me that thou art me:
Thou art me who art my self,
that thou art me, that thy self be,
that thou thyself, thine own self be,
Thyself from thee, that I thy self,
My own, my own self, thyself be,
Thy self, my own, thine own self be,
Who, being so fair, so kind, so kind,
Who, being so lovely, so kind,
Thy self, my own self, thyself be,
Thyself, mineself, thyself be,
But thy self, mineself be,
Thyself from thee, mineself be,
Which is my self, mineself, thyself be,
And from thee, thyself be,
What shall I write, in thy name,
of mine own self, and my self’s self?
O then I was told,
This was my death, which I know
With a fair heart, this life I have lived.
My dear dear, this is death,
And I have not died, nor have I no blood;
Nor I have no more blood;
But this is death: my love’s cause; my heart’s cause;
My heart’s cause is death: my love’s reason; my heart’s reason is death;
For this reason, I give my life as if it had died,
And as if it had died, this life I gave;
In this life I die, as if death gave.
‘Where art thou in this?” she began. “Where is thy love?
Where is thou in thy beauty?” “That thy love is that I should see;
And that thou art my love,” quoth she, “I shall see thee in my heart,
And, if I will, then thou shalt be my friend;
Whence art thou so loved that, when thy beauty is still,
When thy beauty lies, you shall see thy beauty fade,
The sun shall shine, and the moon shall not shine.
Whose love and sorrow, that hath never been,
Whose love and sorrow, that hath never been,
That hath never been thy true love:
Why, why, why why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why!
‘If thou art no friend,
If thou art not my love, then, then, behold, thou shalt die
And live dead in my self, and I shall live dead in thee.
If thou art dead, then thou art not a friend,


======== CHECKPOINT 020 OUTPUT # 005 ========

bury in that manner, and it was he, I have the greatest admiration for him, but what of him do I find not to delight?
“How did I live by the hand of this fool,” quoth she, “and live by the hand of this proud and foolish friend?”
“And yet how he did live that he lived by himself.”
“How do you think he is?” quoth she;
“Poor little boy, you poor man cannot know how he lives by himself.
“Why have you gone to look at this dreadful beauty?” quoth he;
‘I have been taught,’ quoth she, ‘how you have no beauty;
Then, at last, when you behold this poor black youth,
you know not your fair beauty, but that you have never seen
A painting of a pretty young woman whose beauty is your friend’s.
But when he sees her he thinks, “Ah, what do you see! what you cannot not see!
And this in you is this love of mine, that I love to your image.”
That is the heart of this sad child.
‘Look,’ quoth he, ‘if I have a child with you,
No other than my own, I’ll call it my love,
To be with that whom you call my love and my love.’
If I were of another, I should be love’s slave,
But the woman I love shall give it to thee.
“But how,” quoth she, “if I had a son,
But I should not be love’s slave,
He who is my love’s slave will do him disgrace:
‘No, he is love’s slave,’ quoth she,’my love will do him disgrace.’
O, how dost thou know what an adulterate thou art,
And the worst that he hath done unto thee?
‘And to prove my love, I did write a letter.’
His poor mistress, though she be pale,
For it’s the thing to make her happy that she doth write it;
Nor do I know the true meaning of this verse,
Who can compare it with verse,
Nor know how to render what she writes.
‘Tis so, but I do love thee, and do make you my slave,
When thou knowest that this is my love,
When thy beauty is my beauty, and thy youth my youth,
And yet, thou art my slave; let me be thy slave,
That thou wilt be my slave when thou art done.
What will I gain in my death? wherefore then the loss shall be mine,
And in my death shall thy life be thy life.
“To have my love thy love is like being thine;
I have it for thy own sake,
And for yours is like me being yours.”
His lips, not on her lips, but his cheek,
He thinks she’s thinking, that she’s thinking;
But all she sees is the false image she perceives.
In this is my love’s shame,
My love’s love’s true beauty.
That which I do find there, I can’t make,
Though I have a little to show it to thee,
And all my heart to show it to thee.
When this picture appears before him,
To say this to him is my praise;
And now I have no proof of it,
Nor do I have any proof of my own worth;
So what am I to him for? to me, I have no purpose,
Love can’t say to me, ‘You love me’ or ‘You love me.’
The beauty of your sweet eyes, and what it can do,
Or beauty of my heart’s good will do me proud,
And where your love lives, my love will live,
Your beauty’s will live where my heart lives;
This all makes me happy, and that happy I feel,
And where your love lives, my joy will live.
‘As a dove that was darted by the water,
Which in her haste flew,
To see that she was sinking;
She found no other man to hold him captive;
Her eyes, though white, could not bear her eye;
She ran as she had trodden, and so, with an air so hot,
She vanished: now all my heart’s desire was gone,
And all my will was gone: now all my will was gone: now all my will was gone,
Now all my will was gone, and now all my will was gone,
And now all my will is gone, and now all my will is gone;
Now all my will is gone, and now all my will is gone;
Now all my will is gone, and now all my will is gone:
Now all my will is gone, and now all my will is


======== CHECKPOINT 021 OUTPUT # 001 ========

032

A man’s voice

And his wits,

What did he think,

Why did he say it,

What did he say,

When he hears it,

Is not, not then why he speaks.

To love, or to hate,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to hate,

To hate, or to hate,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to love,

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To hate, or to love,

To hate, or to


======== CHECKPOINT 021 OUTPUT # 002 ========

happy on this subject, as is now taught by the Greeks, who, to the contrary, say it hath not come, that thou shouldst bear it to be taught, but as to be the origin of thy art,
And as thou livest with me, do we not have that which we might have of thee?
Who shouldst make this so? why shouldst thou prove a king to the Greeks, and not thy art?
Thou art the son of a poor maiden, and she is rich,
With an oath to thee.
But do not let her blame me,
Nor tell me that thy art thou art worthy of praise.
Then I should love thee as thy daughter,
And then wouldst make you proud of me,
For with thy love I will say my good words,
For thou art a true king of men’s minds:
And what is thy love, when thy virtue lies,
Of which thou art the subject of this slander?
That thy love should bear the blame of all the world,
And that of men’s love the blame of all the world?
For in my heart thou art a son of a rich merchant;
As in mine own thou hast no right to wrong
My fair love, nor mine own right to offend.
What, then, dost thou so love me,
That by thy love I could not make my acquaintance
With such a fool as thou dost make me?
Why should I make a stranger to thee,
In spite of what I have done, with my own fault?
But in your love, there should be no trespass,
For love, in my nature, and in your being,
The most worthy in thee, is my true love:
What, then, in my nature is thy true love?
What, then, in my nature is thy true love?
For in thy love am I not my true love
And in my nature is thy true love?
The love of men is not, but thy true love is:
Since no love will be more noble than thy love,
Then let no man hate thee more than a thousand,
For he hath a desire to prove me,
To show me how much a fairer love is,
And how much more an unjust god is;
For not all love is a fair, but it all belongs,
To be a fair to all.”
I’ll return, to that which I am still willing:
So I’ll return, and give to the one who calls.
When he speaks, as before,
And in a low, low, trembling voice, he says:
“Humph, dost thou look at that,
That a boy who saw thee before you
Doth behold thy beauty in his golden eye,
And, as if in your own self’s power
Had painted thy beauty in thyself’s bright,
With fair eyes, the colour of a fair child.
Thy beauty should have been mine, and mine alone,
And, at thy side, all that thy beauty could have done,
Had done mine, and all thy own in thee.
‘Thy beauty should have been mine, and mine alone,
And that thine own self, thy own self,
Thy self that thyself may have done, thy own self would have done.
To thee, my name be,
My name be I will live, and live I die;
My name be I shall live, and die I die.
‘And when thou mayst return,
Thou shalt bear these words to me, and I shall die.
For the moment my love is done with thee,
And the time I take for that which I can do with thee,
With the time my love was done, my love was done.
‘This, then, dost thou now write?
I shall have no other title than to publish it:
In your words, that will be my proof.
‘”Tis true, then, that you, my dear friend,
To me owe your life to every thing.
What would you say to me? or to say to me more?
My life’s short course, and short end, is a long one;
And from all eternity, and all the seasons of the world,
This fair, lovely, and sweet beauty,
Whereof I feel thy heart, and from thy brow,
And I see, I hear, I see, my heart is like unto you.
O what a pleasure, if your heart were to be warmed,
By your sweet sweet love! thou art my dear friend,
Your sweet love for me, and thy sweet love for me!
All that I have, no more,
Than this, in truth I may say,
I love you; but to thy sweet love,
Thou art mine; that which


======== CHECKPOINT 021 OUTPUT # 003 ========

intrins.
‘I should like the wind in this world’
How should I express the love of thine own eyes?
She is not her name, nor shall she excuse her
Being in love with me,
As she was in her husband,
And was in the love of her husband.
And then when I saw him he did not seem so
As to betray her, and in his cold-white face
She with his back she straightway went,
And on the rocky hills he took,
And in her soft bed she slept,
She doted, and dined on Lucrece’s head,
And did not think it wrong,
When he was his husband’s child,
To hold his tongue, and kiss his own,
To tell him the heart of his love.
When I look at her this time, I see her tear the tear:
her lips have been hard, the lips have not been soft,
They will have been her cheeks; yet their cheeks,
Whose lips they have not felt,
But are her cheeks, and lips, and lips,
All their sweet touches are with thee,
And their lips are his; but in him are cold tears
So sweetly mine, and theirs is cold;
Thy dear heart, why should I love thee?
‘’But thou shalt not steal,
For thou art thine own,
Who gives thee not more than the worth of mine.
‘’For ever the fair-look’d maid is a lover:
Then the sweet maid will not love thee,
But will, in all her joy, tell thee that
“Thy love is too simple, so sweetly reprehend’d.”
Love, that cannot know, is not yet made:
She that is, is no more.
“What would I have to gain, if thou gave me not thy woe?”
“That thou were not good,
By which means my woe should be,
I may not say so, that thou have never told,
that thy woe is mine, but not mine.”
Then do not fear a word;
And if a thing were but false,
The false would be, but it is not true,
And my false love would lie with thee in thy sight.
‘”I have found my love,” quoth she, “in thee,
And thou art not my love,
So thou hast to find my love.”
This thought did not stop,
And the flood that began to flood in the west
Doth now be on his face and on his chin:
His visage is like a glass of white,
And now the wind that doth seem in his ear,
Is burning in his eyes, and he cries aloud.
‘”How can I know thy good self,
And thy fair self’s self to thy good,
That thy self hath such a good self to myself?”
“That thou mayst see me,” quoth he, “let me see thee,
For in the night thy soul’s love shines.
This, then, was not in my sight,
It was in thy soul’s love’s.
I now see thy love, and thou hast me so.
‘”Now, my love,
Whose true love is more than my false,
And in thee alone hath life’s truth sought:
When thou art thyself, thy love is true,
And thou art not my true love:
That is thy true love, and thou art not my true love,
‘”Now then,” quoth she, “let me see thee,
And I will tell you what thou art,
I will show thee what thou art:
O my love, thou shalt not know how I live;
My love, thou shalt not know how I die;
Thou art my friend, and thou hast brought me here,
To see thee, to behold thee,
I will make thee mine, my friend,
And thou my friend shalt prove,
That thou art my friend, and this thou didst lend me,
When thou didst lend me thee more than thou didst lend me.
When thou didst lend me more than thou didst lend me.
When thou didst lend me more than thou didst lend me.
But what is more than I am, my friend?
Thou art my friend, my friend is my friend:
But what is more than I am, my friend’s self?
I am my friend, and thou art my friend;
I am my friend, and thou art mine.
I am my friend, I am mine;
And thou art my friend, I am mine;
Thou art my friend, I am mine;
But what is more than I am, my friend’s self?


======== CHECKPOINT 021 OUTPUT # 004 ========

anarch

To be a father and husband of mine eyes,

Then I know why I should not obey their eye,
But the heart’s more true,
And thus it must not be,
Because it may be thought with my heart,
But the heart’s more true,
And thus it must not be,
For this heart’s more true,
Nor be it more true than the heart’s true,
For this heart’s more true,
In this heart’s more true,
Thou art a true god of thine own,
And therefore of mine own I should
Hath be a false god of thine own,
And therefore, true and true,
Thy god doth dote upon mine self,
Thy god doth make thee their king
And they whom they should love, they dote upon mine.
Yet when the eye was not the thing to look,
The eye that saw, and now we see,
Which our eyes have not yet seen,
Which they can never see of their own;
And, now with my true eyes
To the night-dawning sun, and, in this,
To the gentle sun, where thou wast born,
To the warm-wicking cloud, where my true soul is,
To the golden orb, where my true soul is,
And to all these heavenly things,
When the sun takes a look in my eyes,
That this is the sight of my self,
This is my true self, and my true self is,
O my love! the light, my light, the night, the day,
And now every shade of thy face, the night, the day,
When thou wilt look on that night so sweetly,
This sweet sight that I now see
With all my heart hath my face with that fair hue.
“How much happier is the world to live than to live
In my sight, but my heart lives in thee.
That beauty, which thou hast slain in thy sight,
The beauty whose eyes thou dost fear in thy sight,
Who wilt not live when thy face is so full of grief,
Since no love hath to die for love to live.
That thy self is the one whose love,
That of thy own, is best, and the rest is not.
O what good are they, that thou art most dear,
Thy self canst not best be;
When thou wilt stand in fear, I will kill thee.
“And with that she cries, “Love, how dare I slay thee,
When I have slain thee, where do I die?”
My heart loves you, my heart hates thee,
That thou wilt love me, how dare I slay thee,
What have I not slain, in thy name?
Whence hast I been slain?
And all this I do, to prove thee right,
From where thy face I cannot see,
To where I cannot see thou wilt not see;
I have no desire to have thee see;
For the truth is, my love is not all but,
Thy true self is not all,
And therefore I did slay thee, my own love
Being the self whose true self is.
“How long did I sit still in the sun,
The cloud that’s since blown,
And the moon that’s since sunk,
The sun that’s since been on the west,
And the sun that’s since flown on the east?
That is what my love looks like.”
The night, still in my youth,
Like a dead star that once perforated
In the dim glow of the moon;
The sun that sets to set in the west,
And the moon that sets to set in the east,
Which in the dim glow of the moon,
Is lost to thee, my love, that my life is:
As thou art to be lost to me,
As thou art to be alive,
As thou art to die.
(For this quote, this verse is translated to me
“So be it that thy good deeds,
That for all thy good may be well enacted,
And for all thy good deeds to be remembered,
I may set thee free, and then I may live.”)
That, when he speaks, I, the slave of my passions,
By this in his heart, will bear,
The bloody wounds of my sin which he did bear.
‘”And where,
As I say, thou art my fair, and my fair thou art,
My fair, the fairest of all,
Her fair, in whose hand the world is,
The fairest of all,
The fairest of all,
She the world is, in whom she is;
Her fair, in whose hand the world is,
His


======== CHECKPOINT 021 OUTPUT # 005 ========

increreasingly-increasingly-overwhelmingly.

And yet it still makes a noise,
And a deep groan, and then that shrill cry
Of death’s blood mingled with that bloody air
Of death’s breath mingled with that burning breath.

That burning breath with that fire which we call death,
That fire, the fire, which in her melting heat,
Her flaming hue doth cover.

And on the bed, now she turns the eye,
To show that this dear woman was,
And here, that babe hath, in her bed,
An empty treasure deep hid.

She lays him on his back,
His arms lean on the fire,
and all his body is burnt.

She that lives in her breast must die,
And every one dies by her bed,
Like the devil, the prey of her desire.

And when they say that her treasure was mine,
And that my love’s sake they have not sworn,
Or what my dear sweet desire to thee,
Took a knife to my thigh, and it did kill
That knife, and all my blood,
Upon her neck like a blood-chill’d wolf,
Which, for her sake, hath to be hunted.

She that lives in her breast must die,
And every one dies by her bed,
Like the devil, the prey of her desire.

This is the day in her mind which she had imagined,
And she that lives in her breast must die,
And every one dies by her bed,
Like the devil, the prey of her desire.

She that lives in her breast must die,
And every one dies by her bed,
Like the devil, the prey of her desire.

And, in his sad mood, this man’s horse doth fly,
Like a mad boar with his neck broken off.

I see the day that thou dost not live to see
A new love, and a new joy
That to this world thou art,
I will not lie with thee, nor with thee,
And I will not boast of thy beauty
Or thy goodness, nor thy skill in the art of art,
To thee thou art, but nothing to do with me.
“Now my heart is full of grief;
This sorrows with the breath that I make,
And this sorrows with the mind that I breathe;
And then I feel that I have sinned,
Like some kindling of fire,
In my heart that makes the fire burning;
As a cloud that blows away moisture,
With a flame that blows away smoke.
“But since all this that thou hast done,
That by thy providence, I may be free,
I have been confined in this earth to thy will,
Since this earth hath sent me to sin,
For thou hast done that to spite my heart;
for to thee have I not gone,
For to me had I begun to know thy will.
Thus to me was thy will so full,
That when thou wilt see this deed in me,
I will not think what thou wilt.
But I know this will not leave me no choice:
Even to me, that will is thy will,
To me thou shalt not use, nor to me the use;
And therefore thou art a thief, and am I a thief.
“And in my heart hath this image gone,
That in the womb was this image where thou dost dwell;
And so this thou didst dost,
Thy beauty so perfect that thou art no more;
Thy truth so much worse than thyself,
That thou dost not know the truth of me,
Thy love so much worse than my own,
Thy self so wretched that thou art no better than mine.
‘Yet if thou dost think that this is so,
Thy beauty shall never die,
And if thou dost think that this is so,
Thy beauty shall never cease;
Thy self is dead, and thou art dead.
‘But, behold, my love hath been kind,
And it shall be thy love that ever was,
And ever was thy name, thy good,
And ever was thy good, and ever was thy good.
And now, behold, in this tomb
One hath lost his beauty, another of his good,
And still another of his good,
and yet still another of his good.
‘Hast thou in this life to be mine?
‘But why this is, thou art in the wrong,
‘Since thou art in the right,
Since thou art in the wrong,
Yet not a man to be here is to be seen.
‘So thou shalt be


======== CHECKPOINT 022 OUTPUT # 001 ========

coin it so to himself, he being overcome, but yet his body was strong with courage, and his strength with strength;
Then Lucrece by these two Lucrece,
And in one, both like Lucrece in his body,
So that Lucrece on both sides,
Both was with him his self;
‘My love,’ quoth he, ‘can live, but it dies,
In sorrow;
A coward boy must be forced to look away;
Or what sorrow hath his heart to behold,
For which it must fear that it hath such disgrace,
For by all those sorrows we see him in sorrow,
‘So I dine with your face,’ quoth he, ‘though thou be of this,
I fear not what thy words are to say.
I do, too, swear not to tell thee this,
But for I do tell you in my heart,
For I did not intend this to your eyes:
If I did write you truth, then this will live;
But that you, in your mind, and in my words,
I will not read your mind in mine;
For what they are, I have a deep view of them:
If thou wilt do, I will be dead:
But not of the world, or to the earth, but of men.
O, now your love hath drawn the deep to this world;
You cannot not hear your love and your love is dead,
As if you did hear a deaf person,
Have sung your praises that you know have:
Let them hear how, your love, when,
When they hear you kiss, whereon they die.
The earth was once a strong stone,
And the flood that broke it would fill it with water.
And now in this flood all things are made plain,
As if thou dost call mine name not;
And my true name is called, though thou know my love;
Nor, by such words as you write, did I do wrong,
For I do wrong by his name, and by his name by mine.
Now, the earth is my body, and all my creatures,
Like a man-eating caterpillar that lives on your head,
As if your head had not been a flower:
I have no love, and now for love’s sake I have no tongue,
Which thou shalt not have, as yet have, for ever,
But mine own tongue shall have it for ever.
And now, for that one day, thou shalt have my love,
For my love is like water, and water is like fire.
O, if a jewel, in the eye of a jewel
Would seem so, how dost thou be such a woe,
That it would look, and therefore be lost?
Why did not thou art so kind to this poor wretch’s face?
She, my love, whose lips dote to thy face,
Which dost thou on that one so dote?
If he should tell thee this truth, I’ll tell thee so,
And then I will make thee the jewel of his face,
And so you shall see what a true thief it is.
She that thou wilt know the truth, and then find not me,
So thou shalt not be thy friend’s friend, nor my friend’s friend.
‘Ay,’ quoth she, ‘but if he had not told me,
Thou wilt see that I am not a coward,
Or of thy worth so much as of my worth,
That he would not leave me that much to him,
The two of you would still live together,
As long as his own sake is done,
He did not make a vow of death,
And when he did make his vow of death,
His death will, to my death, be the sun.
‘But why then,’ quoth she, ‘is that his spirit was gone,
So did his spirit live on the earth?
‘No,’ quoth he, ‘nor was it he,
When it did live, but still it in my soul.’
I have no power of love, nor of words,
But my heart is in my heart, that thou dost love,
And that thou lovest in my heart,
Thou lovest in my heart to love me,
Even so when thou lovest in my heart,
And, in my heart, is love in thy heart,
And then, in my heart, is love in mine heart,
And then, in mine heart, is love in mine heart.
O, what a love he made him to make me live!
He made me to die, to live with him,
The true love of him that lived,
And not his love that lived;
When he did kill my love, I too


======== CHECKPOINT 022 OUTPUT # 002 ========

ide and she would be content;
And the old lady doth lend him the gift of his heart,
To her still loving daughter she hath the gift of his blood.
For in her breast is her precious breath, her breath that breathes with blood,
And his breath that breathes with blood she breathes with life:
“What can you do?” she quoth he.
“Save your own, my dear sweet-sweet love, and mine for your sake.
“I beg your prayers, O love, for the blessedness of thy name,
In thy name I will be thy guide.
If thou gav’st not my self in thy love,
How shall I ever have a love so dear as mine?
For this thou hast lent me a life of beauty,
And the world’s fair mistress is a beauty that woos me.
Look how sweet a queen her love,
She whose beauty so long hath hid,
May be thought a thief, a tyrant, a coward, a queen.
I have sworn to live my life to prove thee right,
And to prove thee right to my self,
And to prove thee right to mine own self,
And to prove thee right to me all.
‘”What shall I say?” quoth she, “I’ll do it in this book?”
What shall I say?” quoth she, “I’ll swear, to show you the truth,
And to show you the truth to show you where I live?
That’s all for now, as though the world should tell,
If I survive and there were one man to hold me,
And if there were one living that I would give
But one dead in my life, that my mind would do what
So many a false love doth deceive.
Or for one living I could live and yet live,
Even to the end of time and again to my dying day.
“Then why, so that I may seem to thee,
Then where can I be found? when, all mine eyes are all gazing,
Thou, my love’s eye, when all mine eyes are all gazing,
And every part that my love looks on doth shine,
Or if it’s none, that makes it all look wrong,
Or if it be my love, that makes it all look all wrong.
“When did it be for thee to tell me
When thy art had begun to die, when thy beauty was beginning,
And I had it with my love’s seal?
Who’st thou for me, then, thou art not worthy?
If it be my love, then all thy woes were my fault?
When is it not mine for me to say,
That thou art my love?
And why not thy love, if it be my fault?
How many an adulterate lust hath made thee
As a nun to spend her days in kissing?
Thy virtue and thy virtue, but thy faults and thy beauty,
are one, and one alone, and one in succession.
O, the worst of my faults! thy virtue is mine;
But thou art thy sweetest and most unkind;
And this thou shouldst give, if thyself it did be mine,
Thy best is mine, and my best is yours.
But thou art not the best, thou hast not the best,
You make us all wrong by our wills,
For as I have no good I love you,
As the painter and the painter’s fair, and yet I love thee.
‘Tis true, when I have gone to war,
I am dead, and I am gone.
My heart beats, my heart beats again, my heart beats again.
His blood is hot, and his blood is cold,
His hair is dyed, his hair is tied, his hair is dyed;
his brow is crooked, his brow is crooked again;
His tongue is long, his tongue long, his tongue long;
His chin is long, his chin long, his chin long;
His eyes are full of blood, his eyes are full of tears;
His hair is black, his hair is black, his hair is black,
His face is large, his face large, his face large;
His right eye is red, his left eye red,
His face is small, his face small, his face small;
His hand is long, his hand long, his hand long,
His lips are huge, his lips are huge, his lips are huge;
His brow is small, his brow is small, his brow is small,
His face is large, his face large, his face large;
His tongue is short, his tongue short, his tongue short,
His chin is large, his chin large, his chin large;
His eyes are large, his eyes are large


======== CHECKPOINT 022 OUTPUT # 003 ========

tymology that he calls his mother;
He never lets go, nor goes out, nor goes in.
But now, she runs, and her voice so thick and strong,
That even in her heart she hears her voice!
‘My sorrow!’ quoth he, ‘your grief doth I make;
What I did with my own life to give thee is but a lie;
And by this means you have made me ill;
My heart cannot bear to hear thee, and yet not knowing me,
Is for this reason so much as I wish thy love
Hath made the day of my sorrow, when thy beauty hath grown
To the greatest distance, and all my thoughts in thee
Have no power to stop thy grief,
Or for thee my woes to keep me from such;
And since thou art so dead, my sorrow may still be,
That I may be, and not be a mortal,
The reason why thou art such a dead creature;
For if it should, I should be in this wretched state.
Now, this sweet flower, which thou so lov’st,
Sorrow upon a sickly tear, that leaves his tears,
Will not let the world think it so,
That all the rest of me, being dead,
May live in it like a beggar’s head.
That is the worst, therefore it is the best;
That, while I die in the world,
No one with his or her will to remove it;
This, as in Lucrece’s verse, makes it so:
“When men did do evil, when thieves did steal,
I should not do them wrong.
O, where are the stars, the moon and stars,
And the birds which do fly in their flight?
What beauty is there that gives life the flower,
And flowers to live by themselves.
And yet the painter in painting,
He that with that painting he doth imitate
His own image,
Lest his life’s stain and beauty be removed:
When, in his beauty’s disgrace, his shame
Upon his self-declared self-love shall live.
(Thy dear friend, he must not look on the sad,
That he may have been his self in his beauty’s disgrace.)
In Lucrece’s story, if they had had their eyes so closed,
Her eyes might not have shown their false lusts;
In her eyes, my soul’s lust did not shine;
her true sorrow doth never seem;
The eye hath seen, and she hath seen it not;
But I with a smile still do smile,
And look upon my beauty, and that beauty’s shame
Which makes her a fool and makes her a proud fool;
O how in his mind his lips, his heart’s blood doth show!
So I love her beauty, so I love her heart’s blood,
To my love, to my tears, to her love,
O my love, how I love thee so, so my heart doth give,
How love and tears doth make it so, that they may weep.
‘Thus is it with me now,
That when, when, in my heart, I think that the fire hath begun,
My self to be my slave shall stay still,
The fire, thyself, to my self shall stay still;
My self with thee to me shall stay, and thy self to mine.
And so the world hath told me that I am dead,
As thou in me do write that thou writ:
And thus it shall be, my poor soul is my slave,
And so I am to my dear friend the painter,
And by this love of mine is set my love,
So shall all my love, my love, be, for ever.
For thou art such a sweet, my love is thy best,
My love is thy self’s treasure, my love is thy best,
And therefore this thou art the king’s slave,
For I am thy sweet servant, thy good, my love,
Which now my poor soul will not bear,
That all these faults, for the sake of my love,
Will this make thee worse?
For in that I canst not love thee,
The man that loves me is, like him, in a rage,
And yet I must not love him,
For love’s love is to blame;
When in love’s shame I feel, his love is not,
For love’s love is to blame;
When in love’s shame I feel the wound,
Then love’s love is to blame;
I have no love in thee;
Nor do I love thee in love’s shame.
‘Thus says he, “Lo here, in this way I know,
Lest thou think I could not know the wrong I did say


======== CHECKPOINT 022 OUTPUT # 004 ========

Lantern from a book and I do read it, I can’t see why I need more.”
‘He was told that she did this; but his heart did not like it.’
‘You will prove my faith to be true.’
‘But you may,’ she answered;’my life will be told not by your eyes, nor by the hearts of men.
In the city I will be seen by you, and you my friend;
The old age will bear witness to your youth, and your youth will bear witness
To my youth, that you are a fool.’
‘In this I make a vow,’ quoth she, ‘there shall be a son, and there shall be
A daughter, and there shall be one; and I shall teach thee what thou wast taught,
My duty, my oaths, my oaths, my oaths.
How will I not love thee, that thou wast the first to give me the right?
For then, and by my love, will thou not be thy fair enemy,
Which the fairest love to my face may take.
And this desire hath a name, that I will call thee:
And to the stars, to my world in the east.
“Now she cries to her husband that he shall not fly;
And yet is he still her lover, and her friend’s death.
Her husband hath been her husband for ever;
She is her slave; but his love is so sacred,
that his death, from her, can not prevent it;
That love so dear to all these parts,
That he must his lover make his death:
And here lies his love again for ever;
Which is her love, that her love to the world,
She may not die, nor live,
She can never live, and may live till the present time;
She cannot make her love end, she can never die,
And yet her love, which lives but on that time,
Is her love to him, and therefore he lives but to live,
Nor yet to be her love to her death,
But to him she is dead, and her husband dead.
‘How could it be so with me?
I am no more a friend of kings than a slave;
And my sweet son will live with my loving love;
His life is all in vain, the youth doth not know,
And therefore cannot he live to the end.
O then the fair thing is that in my heart she is gone,
If for my sake I have my heart’s honour at a loss,
My heart’s honour at a loss is no honour,
My heart’s honour is no honour.
‘The day she thinks it well done,
To kill her, and kill her in spite of her,
Or make her kill herself in spite of my love;
That her love with me will not stay so long;
For she can still think this to be true,
Or in this so, and now that,
She must not die, nor be buried.
‘Let us, as men, bear this out,
As men’s lives will bear out: if they do so, what will be done?
For no time’s peace can be had in that time,
A war of the old and of the young.
I’ll be the one who says the night will be the day,
Or he will make it worse with night,
Or worse with day.
Let me prove thee a false story to false kings.
He must make thee so true by telling me so,
That no man might speak a lie to me;
As he may not make a false claim on your fair name,
That all things I have done should be my true love,
My true love was the first, and it did die,
And then thy good and your true love was all,
And I would never live to see that the good,
Wherefore I did, but I love thee;
Yet if thou, whose good I love,
The one true love to me should live,
And I should live to love thee the other,
And yet thou, whose good I love,
The one true love to me should live,
And yet thou, whose good I love,
The one true love to me should die,
And yet thou, whose good I love,
The one true love to me should die,
The one true love to me should live,
And yet thou, whose good I love,
The one true love to me should live,
And yet thou, my good, shall live only as thou livest,
And all the world shall not kill thee.
‘Yet here I am, a son, and then a daughter,
And then all the world shall kill me.
And in this rage will all my rage show;
But my love, but for


======== CHECKPOINT 022 OUTPUT # 005 ========

My for I fear to slay thee,
And as thou shalt, thou shalt have no excuse,
For in my name shall men die,
And shall not my name be in thy heart.
If thou didst steal of all my blood,
That for thy own sake thou shouldst forfeit,
I’ll not be thy self, I’ll not be thy self;
And this shall seem to me like stealing:
Or for my blood that was worth as a thousand thy doting.
A thousand doting, a thousand thousand proud,
A thousand proud, a thousand proud, a thousand proud,
And yet, by your foul deeds, did I not love thee,
As if you, with mine, had aught that I knew,
And thus I love thee.
That’s what I love the most in my heart.
If you will, you will kiss that cheek,
To kill the beauty that’s your face.
Love hath a reason, so it must be,
And I will do it to be sure.
Love hath a reason to have more reason.
Love will find his way in all his course.
But it will take a thousand turns, so fast that he dies,
And when the stars return, all the world,
So shall he be gone, that he not have an eye to see.
‘Hail, O poor child,’ quoth the young man, ‘Hail, my love,
Behold the beauty in my eye, that so many love,
Like a red rose, I may show it my self,
That for the eye of all the world is the beauty,
And if there be a heart in me that will look upon,
That will look upon so many of my worth;
So how can I compare, if beauty’s eye
Hath every kind of self in me compare?
O, where is my soul from, why have I not seen
And never seen him so young?
O, what a senseless coward he is!
That’s enough! He is the most cruel thing I have ever seen,
Since I was a child’s slave, and the world
Shook at him as if he were my friend.
“Why would I die, my friend?” quoth she, “if he be so cruel!
O love, have I not pity’d you in thy youth,
And in thy youth had I seen a fair beauty
How little love’s golden head was plucked,
When thou wast so modestly to praise it,
Whereon I’ll look in the dark, and I’ll smile at thee,
And, if thou look deep enough, I will find your sight.
‘How should I be despised, for being thus?
When thou art such a thing, my love dies,
And so must I love thee in spite.
Even the gentle queen I love,
Is there any doubt that thou are most dear,
Who I may say is my queen?
‘Thou wilt have the time to make me my friend,
But what shall I say to that thou art best,
Unless thou wilt have the time, or the mind, to write me my name.
‘Then it is to be remembered,
When thou art a painter, if thou art painter’s muse,
And thou art painter’s muse’s painter’s self,
Whose hand should we hang upon thy knife?
The knife that is made of thorns of the forest,
Whereon thou art buried? let us do what we like.
‘But if thou wilt see, how sweet is my soul,
I love thee more than ever before.
What an untimely death this death will have!
He is my love, that with thy help I may live,
O true love, to love you is to love thee.
He, by this means, is my love, that when he touches thee,
He is my love, that when he touches me I’ll love thee again,
His love is my love, that when he touches thee I’ll love thee again.
So that he in thee in his love will live,
The love that he holds is his love, that his love will live,
When, my love, the love of that love,
Thy virtue was in thee that gave life,
Thy love gave life to thy virtue,
Thy virtue gives life to thy virtue;
Thy virtue gave life to thine own,
Thy self gave life to thine own,
Thy self gives life to thine own.
In thy name he gives life,
And to thyself life gives life to thine own.
Love’s worth depends on thy worth.
She will have no love but thee,
and your will will give no love but mine.
“But he is my love,” quoth she


======== CHECKPOINT 023 OUTPUT # 001 ========

Reddit’s web of contents is the place where we make our own copy
And then we copy every word of it, that makes it look
And we make the world’s best copy.
But if they should seem to me guilty,
The world’s best copy, let the world’s worst make it worse
And for the worst a lesser copy is worse than
My copy of what I read?
‘Look, I have read many books, many stories,
Some great and some little; some very great and some little;
And all in vain they did give to the good,
For I have read not the truth but my self.
“What are your hopes for me when I die?”
“My hope is good; my hope is short; my hope is long.”
For though they might say,
O dear love, I am dead;
As long as life can live, yet death can not live:
For the sun’s white-livery,
And white-sliding dainty winds are wind’s curse;
Though sun and moon be the same,
Nor do they seem two of the same colour.
‘’Tis, my dear, my hope that no fair child shall fear:
Or, why is my heart so hard to bear,
When the sun’s sun and moon seem to be like birds,
But birds’ cries are a sort of song,
And they imitate their neighs, when they are gone.
‘’Tis for thee, my dear, that they say the world must die;
Then that they are dead of their being dead of being,
And do that which they cannot do,
Who they will be like to whom the world cannot be said.
‘’Tis my love to thee, my love to thee,
that so often I write to thee,
And do write them to me that I do write:
‘Twixt him and his maid, his face full of remorse,
He bids her farewell, and kisses her on the cheek;
He says she would not betray him again,
She tells him not to betray his love,
He says he would, and then they kiss each other,
And then they all go, and now he speaks,
And yet he cannot see her for fear of his tongue,
As he did when she told him this tale:
She told him his name; she told him it was his love,
That he had her, to whom he owed her.
‘The thief, my dear,’ she said, ‘I will put a curse on your soul,
And I will make you steal a life from me,
A life so small you could not tell;
If you will tell to me, I will give it back:
For by thy name thy name shall I enjoy,
And to this I’ll swear with oath my life,
For by thy name shall I live, and never die:
Which thou hast made a sworn oath to me,
But now, my oath’s sake, I give thee a kiss,
To bear thy life’s name and that of that of mine.
What are thy wills of good or ill,
That thou mightst live by me in thy heart,
Thy vow of life and death, thy vow of life and death,
Which thou mightst be extinct by,
Thy vow is still live, and live thou shalt live;
As if, like a bird in an unfettered state,
Or a dove, in flight through the open air,
Could fly in the wind or in the sky,
Thy eye, or the breath of the ocean,
Will do what thy will do; it will go forth,
Then to thee it will find time, and time to look,
Then to thee it will find time to sing;
And yet it will not, nor it will not,
Even now, and I can no longer find my way:
My heart is heavy on thee, and I cannot bear it
Which thou didst do, and I can no longer bear it,
Which thou didst do, and I cannot bear it;
If thou didst bear it, I will bear it,
Thy soul shall bear it, and be never again seen.
“Who shouldst he to be the traitor to his love,
If his self should be the guilty of his treason?
The wretch that would be his own deceiver
To betray his father’s will and his own self’s will;
And yet he could not betray his will,
for he might not betray his self;
But if he should betray his self, he should betray his self.
What an abuse it would be for me, now, to hear my story,
If ever the world could do to tell it how,
Who is he that would betray his will,
Or steal


======== CHECKPOINT 023 OUTPUT # 002 ========

friendly for their skill, as in painting a fairer part of him;
But I say he, what beauty hath this fairest power,
Than beauty that ever thou dost bestow,
For what we may have, if thou have it, let it be ours.
The rich, to whom this my dear heart have lent,
A sum of my time’s leisure, a sum which I know no end,
And I can say no more respecting my deeds,
In truth what I say, or how I shall say it,
As to the fair mistress that hath given me,
Her beauty is mine, and in her beauty mine,
Yet she hath mine own eye, and in mine own mind.
Thus he answers, “Lord, for whom that eye did teach thee,
What a child that looks on thee,
Or what a boy is in thee,
That in thee so bright a sun doth shine.
And all that beauty which he shows,
But in thee so far, I know no better;
As thou hast many parts that are many;
For where thou wilt, so I wilt
Look on this beauty, where thou dost appear;
I see not thy beauty, nor mine that I do see
But thy self which thou have, and I mine own;
O, if I had myself, my self would weep,
To thee it mightst be weeping with weeping.
His hand which, in his palm, did she touch,
And as in his, she his foot;
For the foot, being in her, had not done such a thing.
“Look,” said Lucrece, “let that jewel do this,
Look, O thou my fair, my lovely,
This rich jewel, this precious jewel,
When thou mayst bear my sorrow, behold that I am,
That I have the beauty of a child,
That I know thy love, and love thy heart.
So can I love thee, my love, if I be found,
That to thee I owe nothing, but my love.
Love cannot, being weak, keep my hand from thee,
And if it did, I fear I may be in love,
Since my heart hath not the power to control thy mood,
Or so weak a heart be in me as then it are.
So did he, I do thee honour, and do my dear heart
Hate thy love and thy love, yet thy love, I do not.
“And then as if my lips were red,
Sometime he starts, like a bird, and leaves a piece.
For there was one where the birds sang,
And some, some where he was, some where none.
‘The bird is mine, he is mine,’ quoth she;
And what kind of bird I shall call thee,
I have seen thy eyes, not mine eyes, but thy eyes alone.
‘So how shall she make me hate thee,’ quoth she, ‘let my lips be red again?
Or I will love thee more than I have before.
When I was thy maid, thy servant,
And you in thy breast, my sweet bed, and to my delight
In thy arms, with thy long-suffering hand,
To set thee to the task I would do,
With my mind’s eye I make my own view,
And if thou dost see that which I can’t see,
Thy beauty can not tell, nor thy beauty can’t tell.
And so, though I love you, yet my soul knows not thee,
My mind doth know not thee, nor mine in thee:
‘For thou art my love, my love dost not love thee;
Even as thou dost love me, so dost thou love me,
In vain, if thou dost give my love nothing,
That I may not do thee the proud prize of my love.
For love, which thou shouldst possess of mine,
By thy art, by thy grace and by thy virtue,
Gives me some treasure, though not many to say,
To give to thy love, my love in mine is so rich.
“And when he comes and sits down,
His lips are black and his tongue white,
As they did her master’s when she took his bed.
“So then they must be of one,
Since their beauty is so simple, that it is hard to picture.
But for what is my purpose I am a painter,
To paint of the world’s parts and of man’s face;
Which therefore I in my beauty did make,
That you all with one mind may judge me,
Since what thou dost see I show thee is not true;
That thou dost see not the truth, but thine eye sees:
For mine eyes do perceive things


======== CHECKPOINT 023 OUTPUT # 003 ========

party:

“So, this morning the fair lady and I were once a dear friend, and it is well-doing to stay the night.
‘Where is my sweet love, dear friend,
And yet there’s a fault, and I shall blame you?”
“O that; for thy help,
For thy virtue is so strong!
And as I am with thee, so well is thy virtue!
That thou dost dote not to steal or steal away.
As for me, my lord and I are in such fear,
But I am still my husband, and thy love is in me;
Which in thee makes it fair and acceptable,
And to thee, as with me, all honour.
If I were a painter, I would do what I did;
But being a painter, in this respect,
I do desire to say more of thee.
If I was a physician, I would dote
That the physician might cure, but did not cure himself.
‘Why, when I was dying, thou shalt show me thy self,
And never give me up for thy sake,
But thou shalt lie dead, and die of all thy love;
And in death I will tell of thy self thy good.’
The love is like a sickle, and with it
The death by which she died is kept alive:
And when her tears have begun to run,
She sits like an eagle gazing upon the sun,
And with him she throws down the fire, and cries out:
“Thou wilt not have it; thou shalt not kill my heart.”
Thus in spite of every foul and foul deed,
It seems to her like a kiss which he touches;
When that kiss is applied, her tears stop,
And, as though her lips touched, her blood rushes down;
Then with his own blood the painter is forced,
To make them bleed again and again,
And again their tears stop;
For in the absence of these bloodless tears,
But the painter that doth lend them his blood,
Is poisoned with sorrow, and dies.
“O, where is the grace that this beauty hath bestowed
Upon men, and where hath he bestowed so much
Of all beauty and virtue?
To tell thyself how much thy virtue and virtue
Thou hast, and how much thou hast not:
That is the most insulting question.
This question, my dear friend, thou so bold to defy,
I’ll answer with your honesty: ‘That’s a disgrace;
That’s a disgrace to me, my dear friend,
As to your father’s mother’s father, thy mother’s husband:
But how could I have more such a sorrow,
Or better than your father’s, than his mother’s husband?
My love, my love, my love!
I do love you more than you do, and I will love you,
And by loving you, I’ll do you the better,
And by loving you, I’ll do you the worse;
And if you do my dear sister love me, I will die,
For love is dead, not love is alive.
When all my heart-strings are wracked,
By some foul deed of mine,
Till my heart-strings cry aloud that they do thee wrong,
My self shall die and never again die.
So many things I am, and then no one knows.
To find some thing so bad, but not the most,
How much more so than your self is guilty,
How much more so than you are guilty,
That is why my love is dead;
Thy self cannot love to survive
But for the self to survive,
To give myself a cause to live.
‘Now, if the day of my coming,
That all this, and that, will be my doom,
For so shall the day hereafter come
For all I am, and so will all others:
So that there shall be one my love, and I love nothing else,
And then nothing else can have a good love;
That shall live in thy self and not to die.
“Thus in love shall I show thee,
To show thee that all thy self is in me,
And in thee the world I show is but the shadow.
“This night with my lips, and on my hand,
Shall my lips with my heart in my hand kiss,
O, now! my heart, when thou wilt kiss me,
Make a loud tumult! and my heart will groan;
Thou wilt not touch thy lips;
My heart, my heart’s pleasure,
Thou wilt not touch my lips; my heart, my heart’s pleasure,
Thou wilt not touch my lips; my heart, my heart’s pleasure,
Thou wilt not


======== CHECKPOINT 023 OUTPUT # 004 ========

society,
And what kind of workmanship befits a virtuous king
To be king’s slave?
Thou art the king’s servant, and thou shalt not be king’s slave,
Nor, in a world to thine own,
That shall do the task.
The wise, they think they know better,
Thou knowest no better, no longer that thou art;
And thou dost not look, but thou hast thought,
that thou art not so, though thou art.
As the poet told them, thou shouldst no more tell me,
O that thou art my love, my love’s child,
That in my desire to be praised,
Is by a gentle angel, to show thy love.
But I will not tell him that, when I speak,
His brows are as bright, and his eyes as cold.
This did I hear, and now he hears,
And then, with a pause, she answers,
“‘Dear mistress, where’s the man gone?
Where was he gone?”
Or whether he was gone to kill her, or stay where?
Why hast I not read the story,
To be so kind to thee, my dear servant?
Which, with sorrow at thy self’s absence,
Thou hast my best wish, for a cure of that wound?
Why, then thou art my best friend, for thou art mine;
And yet my best friend is thy friend’s;
For thou art thy friend’s self’s friend, and I am thy friend’s.
“Why dost thou seek to slay me, and kill me not?”
“That will kill me,” quoth she. “If my knife doth make the cut,
Then all is my doom.”
And to that end she throws herself back and throws herself downward,
To keep her downward knife from beating again.
This last, she throws herself down and throws herself downward again,
To keep her downward knife from beating again.
“Hear this: I will make thee my friend, and make thee my slave.
But if thou dost have that which thou dost lack,
And if my knife doth make the cut, then all is my doom.”
If my knife doth make the cut, then all is my doom.
This was thy self’s revenge, and thus it came
To destroy thy self and all thy world.
‘O, what a story to begin!
For I was never with thee, nor with thee,
But as thou wast a shadow and shadow of mine,
Hath never the form that thou gazest,
Yet as thou art thou art, even so is thou seen.
Thou art me now, and I am thy beauty.
And I love thee too much, not knowing how to tell it.
He who loves me, yet never knows how to love him.
“Why is there such a deep love, and yet so strong a desire?
As if one, and none other had seen thy face,
Had seen thy eye to-day on all the day:
Where was thy love but at my being so seen?
Then thou hast had mine eye; and in it now shines
The love-good, and in mine eye my love is grown.
So thy thoughts are in my eyes, and in my heart I have sworn,
The eyes of men whereon the true love lies.
“That was the last time I saw the sun,
But thou mustst see it again at a far past.
O how she is in thy thoughts!
She doth not have her fair eye but on thee,
And in this she is fair; yet she lies on thee,
And she doth see thee to-morrow, and is not yet on,
Like unto thee to-morrow;
In thy thoughts she thinks thou,
And thou art not, yet thou art on me.
‘And now she, as she sits, takes a swan,
And ducks her head and takes it with one of her wings,
And sings with that tune:
“Oh! where is this sweet verse which she hears,
When in the verse she is sing’d to-morrow?
Then all the world, what a lovely beauty hath he been
Wherein we have but one beauty and we all were,
That in thee there doth arise
The sun, the moon, and the stars, and all other things of beauty.
‘”Ay, that I can tell you, that I saw my father die,” quoth she,
“I thought he lived, and yet all those good things that he did
Were lost unto the world, but unto me there is no light.
But as I have often imagined he lived and died,
Then in my being, I thought he died, and I know
That he lived, and now


======== CHECKPOINT 023 OUTPUT # 005 ========

sim and thy face,
Or in thy head and thy hand I’ll show thee.
Her heart’s content, her brows were red and she writ’ring,
Like a child, on the couch, crying aloud,
Which by this means Lucrece herself would say was wrong;
That thou, my soul’s, is dead, though thou live
Of that which thou be: so that I may never know,
Which thou dost not love to have seen:
In my soul’s heart that fear may have me see,
And to that which I may live, to live thou wilt.
If thou love to love thy self but once,
O, do I not crave death? do I not love
To hate thy self but once,
Thou art my slave, and mine love is to love thee,
And therefore I shall never leave thee,
For what I love I do not desire,
But shall kill the poor slave which kills me:
For, after all, I love thee more than all others.
“Why am I still here, in my bosom
With such an untimely age,
Sometime that I am dead? why should I not love thee,
Like to live a thousand years longer than myself?
But as for thee, so do I fear you still:
‘Tis for this reason that I am often
The better, though not the worse,
By my life is assured my love to remain.
‘Tis a poor wife whose beauty gives life to all,
And yet she still lives, with more beauty
And no greater beauty than myself,
To that poor soul, still dead with grief.
‘Then Lucrece in her mind looks with scorn,
The sun, moon and stars whose parts they rest,
Which he makes to glow, and he gives to all.
A sun that is never dim,
Sinks up a cloud that clears the night;
The sun to the moon, whose beauty she seeks,
Lies, takes her drink, and falls, and thence she lies.
So this time is she a widow, with many a son,
and many a son’s life in them all.
And this her husband, her father, her husband’s husband
The love she receives from abroad is far more,
Her love to her father far more.
“Why didst thou iniquity break the love of thyself?
Since thou iniquity dost break thine self’s love,
Thou dost have nothing that thou hast,
To say nothing that thou didst write.
“But in the face of this, thou dost boast,
And then, why shouldst thou weep that my tears do break?
What should my tears have done? what didst thou intend?
What didst thou intend to do? thou hast iniquity broken thine heart.
If thou dost weep, the weeping tears did stain thy cheek,
Or so the wailing tears did stain thy cheek.
So now my dear love and my dear friend are dead,
For now my friend’s soul lies dead, my dear friend’s heart,
Or both mine and yours and the rest’s dead,
I will not leave it, my dear friend;
For I do not want a widow’s son,
Nor do I desire thee, but if thou desire, die.”
But then did she look at him with pity,
And he did smile, and with sorrow she did sing,
She did smile again, and with grief she did say.
For behold, if he should have no heart to talk,
A nun and the nun’s son, his wife,
Or both, nor even either, nor all,
And that his poor soul must die, and that his heart be still,
But I will not be present, and I shall never be present,
Nor this love hath no stain, nor no cure:
‘Tis now with these that she sighs again,
And she again she sighs again, and sighs again.
O, love! but what love is,
Nor all these thoughts and sounds that I write
Save me that thou dost say that this was thy,
And my life as thou wilt be,
And life as thou wilt be, I will not be present,
Nor this love hath no stain, nor all these thoughts and sounds:
‘Tis now with these that she sighs again, and she sighs again.
She hears her husband cry, he turns to look,
And now his breath is blown away, his face lies,
and his lips do tremble;
And then his lips kiss his lips and their lips do weep,
And then his lips do moan and their lips do moan,
And then his lips do speak and his lips do moan.


======== CHECKPOINT 024 OUTPUT # 001 ========

everyone in a deep hole she cannot get out, or be seen, nor hear the words she says, but he shakes his head.
“Look, dear love, it’s true, and my love you must fear; I assure you that if the plague is cured, I will be gone in twenty minutes.”
“That,” quoth she, “will be done in twenty minutes.”
She says she was not angry at him, for he had told her, and told her that, as he hath no love, so her being his queen, his death is his pleasure.
‘But I love thee,’ quoth he, ‘I will have him bequeath with such a scar and such a death as thou livest,
To stain and die in thy lust, and be dead, that thou mayst see, when thou livest,
And die with thine eye, and with thine heart, and with thy mind,
The sun doth give thee light and your shadow is light,
and your hair your eyes are not your eyes,
And my eyes and mine eyes are not thy eyes,
Even my lips are thy lips, and my tongue thy tongue,
That doth do all in vain, and thou thy love’st all to end:
And now I am so far gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am too far gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full;
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full:
Now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full:
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full:
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full:
Now I am gone, that my breath is full:
Now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full:
Now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full:
Now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full:
Now I am gone, that my breath is full:
Now I am gone, that my breath is full:
Now I am gone, that my breath is full:
Now I am gone, that my breath is full,
And now I am gone, that my breath is full:
Now I am gone, that my breath is full:
Now I am gone, that my breath is full:
Now I am gone, that my breath is full:
Now I am gone, that my breath is full:
Now I am


======== CHECKPOINT 024 OUTPUT # 002 ========

kiss to him, I swear, I love her more than thy love.
He was my first witness of this,
And his name stood before me;
She did kiss him with her own tongue;
But in that kiss he had his face concealed,
But still there his cheeks were as soft as marble;
He rose, and threw his head on her breast.
‘Look what a wretched thing that it is!’ quoth he,
His pale lips it was. ‘Look what a hideous thing that it is!’ quoth she;
Threatening her with the spear,
Threatening his neck with the breast.
‘Why hast thou myself to have her,
When thy husband hath his own spoil so strong,
For she hath been so beloved by him,
In him for love hath bred shame,
Which for his shame was thy self thy bond;
If that be so, thou mustst be dead,
And my self must live by the infamy,
To die whereof thou art dead.’
The wound was bleeding and swelling,
With the red blood to feed it upon:
And to a kindling wind the poor wretch
The young man, whom she had tied up in her cloak,
Sinks into the wind and straightway drops her head;
Then, smiling, he leaps from her;
And then in a low hush, and with her back up,
Her cheeks are bright, the wrinkles bright,
His arms dangle, his face is not long,
He can say nothing but that he loves his friend,
The stranger’s love, if ever the stranger.
And therefore he, from him, I will weep;
And so it shall be as a painter’ painting,
For every part of him is but a picture,
Which in every part is a thing
And all objects seem to be different:
In painting and in painting in my blood,
All this I do not desire.
“O, dear friend, why dost thou bewitch me,
That thou wilt not die, in my deed,
When I beheld thy blood and saw thee pale,
Or saw thy life in the blood which thou drinkest?
The dead, the dead, the dead, all this being said,
With sighs I sing of you and of your kind,
But it is not this, but my heart’s doom,
To kill me when thou hast done with me.
O how my heart and my heart’s love have been made alike,
Love’s strength, and strength’s sorrow,
As the blood which he hath in his hand,
Doth fly in his breath, but fly in his breath;
O how my heart and my heart’s love have been made alike,
And I in mine, in yours I kill:
My heart but thy self, the breathless hand
Is thy heart, thou all-loving god,
And thy breath is my breath, in thy breath
Which I breathe in thee with thee.
But in him that breatheth, in me thou wilt die,
And in him that dieth, in me thou hast no breath.
In me and thee, then both died,
And both in me and thee did fall,
Than in me, in thee had the life begun.
‘To have thee I have sworn,
That I have thee I swear not,
And have sworn all that is in thee,
And then to have thee I have sworn not,
Nor any more of me than thou canst not give,
Which I have sworn to you for thy life,
And to thee for thee till thou canst live,
And all the more since then did I lie,
That thou art my husband, my friend, my foe,
And yet I am thy friend’s husband,
I am thy slave, my friend’s slave, my foe,
And yet I am thy friend’s slave, and yet thou art mine,
Thou are my true friend and true friend
And yet thou art my true friend and true friend
And yet thou art my true friend and true friend,
And yet thou art my true friend and true friend
and yet thou art my true friend and true friend,
And yet thou art my true friend and true friend,
And yet thou art my true friend and true friend
And yet thou art my true friend and true friend
And yet thou art my true friend and true friend
And yet thou art my true friend and true friend,
And yet thou art my true friend and true friend,
So thine in me, and thine in me shall abide,
Or in me, and me shall abide,
Or in me shall abide, or in me shall abide,
For thou hast in me the strength of thine,
Thine in me thou art the strength of thine,


======== CHECKPOINT 024 OUTPUT # 003 ========

surviving to look upon their own self in their own eyes:
Which, like an eye, she might see but in the midst
Of all these parts of themselves, so I saw no further:
For I in thy parts have sought to do things,
That by thy side all is still.
His cheek, then he takes, and thence he flies.
His hand, then he takes again, and now he flies.
‘”Lo, the earth shall not have thee to kiss:
The earth shall not be thy slave to rob thee from my lips:
The earth shall not give thee thy life, nor thy love’s.
When thou wilt give me such a love,
My love shall stay, but that which thou loveest shall not stay,
And when my love is dead, thy love shall live,
And all the love-tributes to my lips are gone,
And nothing more, but those of my lips remain:
Her sad breath doth hisses, and her eyes are tears.
His lips are heavy, his heart cold,
And all these dully things are not worth to myself:
So my heart’s worth so much depends upon thee:
‘”So how can it not be fair for me?
How can it not be fair to thee,
And so to thee in this place be seen?
‘Tis as I have said, ’tis not true, but untrue.’
‘Thou art my mistress, but am I not her mistress?
For to thee I am such a maid as thou dost call
Her own mistress, and thou dost have my name,
And be my slave in her bondage.
‘Tis as my mistress to thee, but thine is thine own,
That thou hast the use of my slaves’ labour:
If it be not true, but false, and false,
It is true, but false, and false, and false,
If it be true, but false, and false,
The slave of a false lord shall inherit
His right, and all his rights shall never be infringed:
My self’s honour shall not be affected:
In the name of all my self I owe thee,
My self shall not be harmed in my absence.
But all my honour and mine own worth shall be disgraced
Who would be my lord in their rightful absence.
No, I never did make him feel so sore,
That, being slain, his head fell on a bed,
That the rest of his body, if seen, may see
The place where he was slain.
‘This time,’ quoth he, ‘once or twice I should say
To all the world the time of this false tale,
If I were the cause of your death,
This false tale of my self to thee,
If thou dost not be my servant, then what dost thou say?
The true love was created of thy beauty,
And not of thy beauty, for thou didst make thyself a tyrant.
‘Thou art the true master, but that which thou dost make use
To my self; to my self, but that which thou dost make use
To mine. I do not know where that love, thou dost show,
shall be found, not to find nor to find,
When I have lived, never to find nor to find.
How many things he hath in store,
Which his self should prove, in what parts he may,
The same thing which his self should prove.
‘Now, my dear lady, why have I said this?
I have done not my part to tell thee of my sorrow,
But, as to thy question, it would not be answer’d.
I am sorry when I see thee so far from home,
That I have not such a pleasant view as mine eyes have.
When I have so much delight in thee as I see,
I feel not fear, nor dread thy fear;
Nor if thy thoughts did have no fear nor no dread,
Then in thy thoughts thy thoughts I know thee to be.
I have seen thee often before, but not ever since,
The first I saw thee, my love gave it up,
My dear sweet lady, for thou art all that I have.
When I have gone away, thou in me have no more;
But in my time, when I have done nothing,
And then, in my time, thou in me have no more;
And in thy time, when I have done nothing,
And then, in thy time, thou in me do not have
Aught, but thee.”
‘”But the love of truth,” quoth she, “looks on thy love;
For thou art that in thy love’s face
That by thy will this will be done,
That


======== CHECKPOINT 024 OUTPUT # 004 ========

));

this -> procUnlockWith ( function ) {

this -> procUnlockWith ( function, lockupTail );

}

/**

* The new instance of the

* p to hold the p-lock with all of

* th’ other proc’s locks.

*/

setLock ( function ( proc ) {

if ( proc instanceof p ) {

this -> p. remove ( proc );

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procLock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

}

});

this -> procUnlock ( proc );

this -> procUnlock ( function );

this -> procUnlock ( function );

this -> procUnlock ( function );

this -> procUnlock ( function );

this -> procUnlock ( function );

this -> procUnlock ( function );

this -> procUnlock ( function );

/**

* p locks up the user’s proc by

* removing their locks and adding them to

* th’ proc’s list of proc locks.

*/

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

}

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

/**

* I call a new proc’s instance of

* procUnlock’s list of locks,

* then it’s up to th’ user to lock it up.

*/

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

/**

* th’ proc unlocks all of th�’s proc’s locks,

* then it’s up to th� user to lock it up.

*/

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

/**

* th’ proc unlocks all of th�’s locks,

* then it’s up to th’ user to lock it up.

*/

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

/**

* this proc unlocks all of th�s locks,

* then it’s up to th’ user to lock it up.

*/

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

/**

* this proc unlocks all of th�s locks,

* then it’s up to th’ user to lock it up.

*/

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

/**

* this proc unlocks all of th�s locks,

* then it’s up to th’ user to lock it up.

*/

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

/**

* this proc unlocks all of th�s locks,

* then it’s up to th’ user to lock it up.

*/

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

/**

* th�s proc unlocks all of th�s locks,

* then it’s up to th’ user to lock it up.

*/

this -> procUnlock ();

this -> procUnlock ();

/**

* th�s proc unlocks all of th�s locks,

* then it’s up to th’ user to lock it up.

*/


======== CHECKPOINT 024 OUTPUT # 005 ========

ignor to me that is my soul,
In me it is, in thee it is,
O, my love will give me life,
And death, in me that I die,
I will live.
And I did hear thee tell it,
And he gave it, and he did give it again.
And she did give more to my soul than thou wilt get,
With what thou art of thine own, that thy might mayst possess:
And now thou wilt have my death, my flesh hath mine,
If thou art not so guilty, then for my sake I die,
Which is more than I may complain of:
And my heart being full with this plea,
To have my heart thyself again on thy side,
Suffering from the grief of death to be slain;
This thou hast, that thou art in love, that in me
Thou art dead, but live in love with me;
This thou art, and so shall not have me dead.
“No, my friend, no more, my love shall not kill me,
For thy soul and thyself cannot live together,
So in my love shalt thou live.
‘”For love of thyself is not a crime,
For hate of thyself is not a sin;
Nor for thy crime do I slay thee;
Nor for thy sin do I steal thy life:
Nor for thy offence do I kill thee:
Nor for my offence do I hang thee,
Nor for thy offence do I steal thy life.
‘Yet though thy offence be thy trespass,
Yet as a thief thou shouldst not do me wrong:
And yet as a thief thou shouldst not do me wrong,
But as a thief thou shouldst not do me wrong;
O wretched fool! thou wouldst not say so,
If thou hast never sinned.‘”Therefore did I hear a voice call me,
That said, ‘Ah,’ ‘’No! do not, nor will I;
Even if I kill thee with my own hand,
My death shall not be stopp’d by thy side.
‘O my dear, my dear, my dear, my dear, my dear!’
But, with a sigh and a sigh again,
My dear friend, thou dost do me wrong,
And to that, my heart replies;
When that which I had did him wrong,
He did more than thou wouldst say it was;
‘No,’ quoth she, ‘I think it is true;
But the question is, what’s his fault?’
Or whether his fault is not his own;
Or, on the one hand, whether his fault be his self’s fault;
Or, on the other hand, if he is not guilty,
If he be not guilty, then his guilt is not mine.
‘O, my dear,’ quoth she, ‘you say there is no such thing,
As to my fault, but I have committed it;
O, dear friend,’ quoth she, ‘your heart breaks when thou art sad,
That’s when thou wilt not hear that,
For thee my heart breaks at the sight that kills me,
Which in you alone was it then,
Thy heart’s heart shall break when it receives my breath,
And my heart shall cry to that which thy breath doth lend,
Which in thee, my heart doth lend thee breath,
Which in thee doth lend thee joy.’
“But now, friend,” quoth he, “I must answer your question,
Since thou art no less my friend than I am,
For you were my friend when I was still alive.
But now now, friend, this is my love,
For thou hast sent me thine, my friend,
My love, my love, my friend, thy love, my friend!
The wind that blows in the morning
Sinks the cloud that doth cover it from heaven.
Then should her rain, so cold, as that which a storm
Of smoke doth blow up the hill,
That to her shame we can see,
And to us too we can mourn:
O, that she might be dead, that her sin should not stay;
O, that she might be alive and do not die,
That her virtue should remain, and all evil should be done,
She must stay, and we have her in the fold,
And do not see her fall: but do hear her wail,
The storm that shall blow through her heart,
Will blow from her that her visage should show,
That she may be dead, that her sin should not stay;
And we have her in the fold, and do not see her fall.
‘Look,’ quoth she, ‘though my heart may break,


======== CHECKPOINT 025 OUTPUT # 001 ========

opacity in the middle of their face,
And down their back did he take a knife,
The darkening of their complexion,
Which had not yet begun to make the white so pale,
As their cheeks in his place,
Shamefully did his eye make use of them,
In spite of his oath.
‘And when I look upon them in shame,
The poor black child doth wail aloud,
And on his back falls, in a cloud,
Or the wind with the wind or the sun;
The snow-white morn, or the cold winter-white,
Or both, and they are each one:
‘Then why was there such sorrow?’
‘And why did not he, like his mistress,
Dost thou weep for the dying widow,
If he had not his soul’s blood on his side?
‘’”O that my loving son was slain,
Even if I did live to hear the old cry,
For love hath no tears but a single tear,
When it seems to weep, when it appears cold.
The one that sleeps, the other dies,
For there are no tears for him that did hear,
No love is in the heart, no love,
In love’s wound the world will never heal.
‘O bequeath thee that which thou art that never didst stain,
And make a proud name of thine,
By spreading thy bounty on thine enemies:
Whose sweet love hath thy fair name doth lend,
Thy beauty’s sweet beauty is lent,
To thy sweet mistress sweet beauty doth make
Her self a slave to his owner’s will;
As the slave to his owner a master doth lease;
Thou the slave to a master that doth make him master.
“My boy, thou art mine; my love hath none; my love hath none.”
She, like a dumb sheep, begins to cry,
For her brother’s shame did make him a groom,
But he doted on her, and in her was she so,
that her tears were so full of her pride,
That she had to put her on to his bed.
“For me she was my friend,
And her son mine to whom thou art mine,
Which she would not give back,
Since it was mine which was slain,
For thou didst murder her.”
“I am angry, and thou shalt see.”
“For what crime should I rob?” quoth she.
“For stealing, treason, and murder!”
His answer, “Thou art the son of this,
And this thou wast made.”
The fair maiden began to cry,
And her lips as white as snow,
And as a stone she fell,
And as she fell the tears did fall again,
Like drops of snow which did not drown,
But wherein doth fall a snow-white-white tide,
And when doth this dry sea wash his wet-white face,
The old beggar in the fair doth weep,
And as he begs for some thing of more,
He doth moan, “But now she is gone;
For she lies in his arms, and her breast hath fell,
As her shame-bidding breast with his neck hath run:
She that did steal that from my hand,
Was the slave of that that master’s love,
Then by my will this slave my freedom bequeath.”
A sad-sounding boar, which like a boar drew
By the swift wind, would not hear his neighing,
And like a boar, would not obey his neighing,
For he would neigh, and call the wind
With his neighing, and his neighing would not break his vow.
So in her heart he with his will would do,
And so he with her will.
‘For now I fear that thy will shall betray,
And my heart my heart that love shall stain,
Which love doth breed of sorrows in thee.
Yet with all my skill, beauty hath doth stain.
My heart hath a pure complexion,
And that soft blush that doth hide;
I have no fear that no woman will think of me,
As long as thou art mine.
O, how am I, that thou art the son of so great a lord,
A Roman king? I have no desire, nor no honour;
My heart cannot bear a king, or anything that he hath;
Even so my heart, as my heart, like a king,
Is dead to thee. O therefore the heart of my heart
Forsworn to die in my will,
For ever have I loved thee,
But for thy sake have I given up,
And to thy will I’ll live till thee,
That shall be


======== CHECKPOINT 025 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Competing, and that is not so much, as being not so good.
Whence then do we not wonder, that thou wilt bestow the fame of this virtue?
If I was ever so young, yet I did grow old;
That, that is, was my fault, and my fault my life’s end,
Now I do live, as thou dost.
If the heavens be large, and the ocean small,
To one spot make me one, and all the rest my
Beauty is in thee.
If the earth be large, and the moon small,
To one spot make me one, and all the rest my beauty
Is in thee.
And what part do I play in my beauty
If it be love, and not love itself?
O then my poor fool, why not take a lie,
If thou art not of such worth to me?
This poor doting widow, as soon as she sees me
Till she sees the proud brat, and then she replies:
Look, where thou wast before, this poor dame,
I will make thee a new friend,
For mine own sake is it to thee.
Then what did thyself do, for thyself’s sake?
And what was he doing, that thy own sake did
Happen to do?
That he did, then he doth make a deed,
And in the deed comes his treasure.
Yet his treasure was in his pride, and he was
In love with him, and his love to him was
So great an interchange of love’s sweet and sour words
That it never began to seem so bad.
And now he is dead, and all his fame is in him;
Wherefore why should thou weep at this wretched deed?
O how much harder than that!
That he is so old and so frail,
that if I do wrong, thou mayst make me worse:
And then why shouldst thou weep when thou hast done wrong?
To make my sin seem more grievous?
And why shouldst thou weep when thou hast done wrong?
Yet thou hast done more wrong in my deeds,
Than thou didst in my acts, and thy deeds,
Than thy acts in mine own act did make thee worse.
I hate the old, and the infirm, and the barren,
For I despise the old, and the infirm, and the barren,
And yet thou didst have my self in mind,
And yet now I have been his slave and his slave’s mistress:
I would not like thee to be his slave;
But if thou art his, then I have to live with thee,
So that thou be not a slave but thou live.
“But,” quoth she, “I am not your slave,
My master’s mistress is your mistress,
If I were, you would not say I love thee more.
You are my friend, your self I do owe;
I am your friend, your self you cannot know;
You are my self, and I must live with you;
Your self I must live with you, and live with you.
You are mine, your self you must live with me;
If I did love you, it would not be true,
And your self I must live with you, and live with you.
For if my self loved you, but yours did,
your self did love me, but yours did love me.
Thyself is mine, thyself you do my self proud,
Thyself I do myself proud, my self you do my self proud:
Thyself I do myself proud, my self you do my self proud.
‘O, it is my duty to you that I say it
Be the guide to those you want;
Since you are my guide, that guide shall be.
You did make the world your store, and yet you did not live:
O, what kind of self-love did I give?
Or what kind of self-love did I give to you?
Or what kind of self-love did I give to you?
How often did I speak out in favour,
In praise of your goodness,
And then my self’s pity did I express?
Then you are my guide, my self’s guide I have not lived:
And if I had died then you should not live with me;
And if I died now, you must live with me.
‘”Yet the best of them both is to kill,
And kill them both for their deaths,
That by their dying is lost all things.”
Then Tarquin, his horse, which the dapper horse is in,
Wears this sad note, and it is not the worst of sorrows,
It is his true love’s true love that speaks the song


======== CHECKPOINT 025 OUTPUT # 003 ========

INV (Wounded)

Cease not to kill me.

As thou hast fled
The gate of my rage,
The gate of thy rage.
His knife drew open in his breast,
Toward her, to shoot at her eye.
O, she could not do it;
She did the knife and she fell,
The knife fell and the eye fell with that shot;
The knife doth not bear such an oath:
For by his oaths that made thee swear,
Thy life is done and thy life lives endures;
But the life of my friend being lost
As thou dost be, I give him the sword,
And if I die, I take him by the hand.
‘But that should prove, if not, then that thou wast wrong,
My life was a gift to thee,
O no, no, no, I should not steal.
For where thou live’st, what dost thou lend
If it be so, no more of mine will lend.
‘If thou art my debtor, my slave,
Thy will be my gain and mine loss shall not be.
The world hath done many things for me;
But now, when thy self hath done me great good,
As now thy self had done me many bad things,
Mine is all my self, mine is all thy will.
‘And I say to thee, ‘Why do I not do all the good,
With this love and this praise?’
As a queen of her city,
Her queen she hath no honour but to show.
‘For in thy self, all are created good;
So thou shalt be the good, to me,
And to him in me thy shame is,
My good is not his, but thy shame is his,
For I was created the good, and then to thee is my shame.
This last she calls her ‘Thyself,’
And she in another name she sings
Of a sad widow,
For when the last day hath past, she now starts
To sing: ‘Father, I love thee,
Thy will be done in thy love,
Thy will be done in mine,
Thy will be done in mine,
Thy will be done in mine, thy will be done.’
‘Thus I say in answer to him,
That he is thy self’s child, and thy will is his;
But why so many say he is not?
What did he do before that?
he did what must he do now?
Then did he not break, nor do we steal
The world, that is the thing that we steal.’
‘Now the maid was standing,
So she, and he, went together with them;
She did all his parts as she did her husband,
Then she did him for him that gave him pleasure.
But he had done him all, and was dead in himself.
O yes, in him there was not such a wound
as on his cheek, for the injury had been done;
Her blood was shed anew, and there, still, still, she kept it
And by this blood, which in her own blood is shed,
She is not to blame for her self’s fault.
“This is not my body, this is my self,
This is my blood, my self, and my self is not.
“It is with his loving hands that I weep;
That my tears are tears, his tears are tears,
That my tears are tears, my tears are tears;
Then is it, my tears, my tears,
For a stranger doth love to see me weep,
Then what was it, what did it dote on,
To touch his face, his brow, his chin, his eyes,
And then what did it dote on, what dote on dote on,
What did it dote on, what dote on dote on dote on?
‘His fair cheek did weep, his fair brow did weep;
Then his fair cheek doth weep again and again;
His fair brow doth weep again and again,
And his fair brow doth weep again and again;
So his fair brow doth weep again and again;
The fair brow doth weep again and again;
Then the fair brow doth weep again and again;
And his fair brow doth weep again and again;
So his fair brow doth weep again and again;
And his fair brow doth weep again and again;
And his fair brow doth weep again and again;
But his fair brow doth weep again and again;
Then his fair brow doth weep again and again;
The fair brow doth weep again and again;
The fair brow doth weep again and again;
Then


======== CHECKPOINT 025 OUTPUT # 004 ========

Observatory with a view to seeing it all, that from thence they might entertain their desire.
“That thou art there, that I may tell thee that the time hath passed, that my friend with thee I have in vain, that all my thoughts have been gone with thee:
And now thou mayst not be forgotten, and my true love as thy true self is still
Upon such a presentance with such a sight.
‘Why do my faces lie in shadow, that they should not fear thee?
Or when they do see what they look at, what they feel in their eyes?
‘‘O heaven’s gracious instrument, whose perfection I must obey,
If ever I in my self shall be subject to thee.
‘Thy true love was created from the womb of a murdred father
That by thy love hath he made his home,
But I to thee shall live, for thy love is dead:
This is my death: thy love is dead, and his dead.”
“O then I say,” quoth she, “O thou mad man, but thou art not dead,
This is thy life, my death’s, my worth’s,
And for thee it is, for life is the last,
A place to live with death but a place where I cannot live.
My dear friend, let me ask you,
When did she stay in the tent, when she was not,
And when she was not, how did she stay,
Where she would not dwell again.
‘O, it was like a sad story that came to my mind,
To tell how this poor boy was abused by his wife:
And now she tells me it was love, not lust that was abusing her.
‘And here she goes again, and says to me,
Dear friend, how may I not, with thee, help restore thy memory?
I, too, being of thee, was of this death.
And then he shakes her hand with the handkerchief,
And whispers, ‘I’ll make thee proud of that,
For thee I love, and shall make thee proud of that.’
‘O, no, never do I,’ quoth he, ‘let my heart beat in thy hand,
Because thou wilt stand before my eyes, and I shall not kill thee.’
‘And to thy death,’ quoth she,’my love is gone,
And to thy death I love thee.’
‘And then how dare I be so cruel and cruel
To kill thee with my own knife,
When thou art well endowed, and wherefore I have
Made thee my prey of desire?
‘O how in thy face have my heart’s lusty tears spent,
When, by my sweet help, thou hast made me my slave?
My heart hath done much to convert his rage,
And yet that which he takes from me now gives
My shame, my fear, my love, mine pride, my pride’s pride.
And the sad state that he in his rage
O’erween me and him, did show,
That he was his slave, and when he did convert
Her love, his pride, his self-love’s pride, his self-love’s pride.
‘”And thus was she gone, and thence she went,
Like a coward, though she did not hide her lust
Nor make her eye with her sad frown, nor shake her cheek,
nor shake her hand with her heavy, heavy hair.
But when she was gone, and the rest of them gone,
And she fell asleep, and all night’s rest fell,
With tears, and with a sigh the other night.
When the night was ended, and the rain was yet in the stream,
And that, in such a cloud, she was not seen;
But in her sleep she made him think
That all the things in heaven that made him see,
He saw none but as the clouds which they stood,
Which he sought to view by gazing on them;
When, from her bed, he began to kiss her,
And in one of her eyes he began to suck,
And then did she cry out, ‘Kill!’ and ‘O, kill!’
And as he was speaking, some bushes came to him,
And one of them he fell to, and he fell again to him.
“Then all these thoughts would they pass
Of me, my self and my friends’ lives,
And in one of them they drew me,
And in the other he drew me, and he gave me life
Upon some stone or some leaf,
On which the other hand they had drawn him,
And the one which he drew me gave life,
And the other gave life upon some living thing;
When he had drawn this life he had given life;
And that he gave life did befall me


======== CHECKPOINT 025 OUTPUT # 005 ========

domains, which are not to be despised, nor to be despised, but are justly understood.
‘”No one will doubt that I am a slave, and my will cannot be subdued.”
Then he went, and she with him, and did say nothing more, as if he wished her well and could help.
‘I love thee,’ quoth she, ‘though thou wilt show my love by my deeds,
Thou art such a traitor to the truth,
And I darst think thou darst show it not.’
“But she did tell me, and I would be revenged;
And to her amazement she doth blush, ‘Ah!’ and exclaims, ‘Oh, that thou hast been so fair!’
Thou art such a villain; for that which thou hast done,
Thou is so far to make me forget, and to make thy memory seem fair.’
‘O,’ quoth she, ‘this may be, thou wast so fair,
And no one else’s fair was thy fair.
What’s that in thee that hath done this?
‘O! let me think,’ quoth she, ‘you are not a woman,
For I am a woman, and have never been one.’
She starts to question him, ‘O! thou didst not make me a woman,
Thou gavest to be a man, and I thy wife’s husband’s wife.
Who in thee that gavest such a fair wife,
In whom so much tender love was not made?
To what is thy love?
Thou didst in her hand her fair gift, and I with thee,
In thine own hand he gave thee his tender gift;
Her fair gift is the most dear, and her gift best.
‘My heart is full of love,’ quoth she, ‘and so do I.
What else can I say, but to thee,
I am the love of you, my heart is sweet,
And thou art my love, to me is sweet.’
Love is not a flower, but a flower,
And to that flower may be added thy love:
For love is thine own creation,
When in thine own image thou dost dwell:
That thou alone dost delight in my love,
In thy self thou dost do all,
And thou dost live in thine own image,
Who from thy own image livest for life,
And doth die where his life lives, his death best in him.
‘But what a lovely thought to me then!
When I was a child I did love you,
I had it not your true worth that I desired;
My thought, which you did to give me your heart
What was not yours was your true worth;
For when I did live to live, you did make me proud,
For all of me did live to live, but yours did not.
O what a sad spectacle then I see!
I have seen the death of mine eye,
And death to your eye my love’s death,
That shall be yours to take away,
You shall never live to live to see.
If you had my love, I would have given it away,
To be your slave and nurse thy love.
And as she speaks, the flood of tears doth make her face black.
“O, dear, where are thy eyes now?
Look! here I have begun a fever,
And now a fever so violent that it gazeth out like a dove:
I am deaf, blind, dumb, dumb;
In your ears your ears the wind blasts,
In your ears the ocean doth bring
The waves from behind;
And from your ears the wind blasts,
And from your ears the ocean doth bring.
O how can these thoughts make you deaf, dumb, and deaf?
Are these not the same thoughts that brought my mind?
Are these not your own thoughts that brought my mind?
Are these not your own thoughts that brought my mind?
Thou dost all of them think them all as if they were mine;
Their contents are not my thoughts but theirs,
And in their contents mine.
‘How can my mind be so pure, and yet still live?
The eye doth blot out the tears, and the eye doth blot them out.
Thou art my painter, and this man shall be my painter.
But what is that to me, the eye doth not see,
And what is that to me, the eye doth not see,
When I am nothing but a painter and nothing else,
When I am nothing but a painter, and nothing else,
That art to thee is beauty to me,
When the eye doth see nothing but love and nothing else,
Thou art


======== CHECKPOINT 026 OUTPUT # 001 ========

json are of a greater power and with greater skill than my lips; so is the tongue,
Thou art the more in my heart than thou art in mine;
For when I am come with thee to see thee, thou art like to me,
And thou art my friend, and thou art my friend’s friend.
‘But how shall I be revenged of my faults,
By a god whose willest death and death’s injurious act,
Even so with thee that my will shall do injury?
Thy hand, whose part thou shalt fill with pleasure,
But not thy face’s end, being thou’st not full,
As if with the will of another,
Or if you are present, what’s thy part?
‘And still I am one of the many;
Some a friend of mine, and some of those who are
Of mine own wills, to whom I gave my life.
‘My love, my friend, this did I swear;
My love for thee is all my life,
And all the force of my will is that which makes it strong.
“That’s to say,” quoth she, “I am a man of my heart,
With no sin, no offence,
No shame, no shame, no excuse,
No foul, no foul smell, no foul foul thing,
No foul act, no foul act no foul thing,
Not a man, nor a woman, nor a child,
But I am a pure beast, a man, and a man,
To thee I owe all, but thine.
Thou art my love, my friend, and thou art mine;
Whose love is not me, but thy love is thy self,
Who knows, no self, but my self.
‘Yet I have read the books of Lucrece and
Those authors of good, and their descriptions,
And not of the worst, but the best,
And so, my self, my self I know,
And nothing more than that which lies in thee;
Whence art thou, I am not, but thou art,
My self, and that of my self is,
In thee nothing but the matter of thine.
‘This he tells me, that I was not born yet,
O, why art thou a boy, how didst thou beguile
By my own skill in my hand to carry,
A knife that in mine own hand can break;
An instrument, or in mine own hand a knife doth thrust,
An instrument, in my hand or elsewhere in my aim,
That the rider would see, and all that was there,
Is dead as that thing that is not dead;
But he that in his self sees is dead, and that thing that is dead,
Is dead as he that in himself sees, and that thing that is dead,
is dead as he that in himself sees.
And though he did make a thing from me,
Yet he did nothing that could justify his will,
For the good thing which he sought he did not do;
But it was done that thou shouldst make a better love.
O how I behold that thou art my friend,
By whose aid is not thy help to make thy life a good one.
And yet thou that art my friend, and do bear it,
Thy good which thou art makes all the better to live a poor.
What can I do, that thou shouldst change my self,
To be me, and thus to live is my wish?
O if thou wilt live the worse of those poor creatures,
That in my wretched life dost thou die?
No, I shall live by your love, and live by your love’s sake:
For love’s sake dost thou die, and dost live by my own will?
I do not know why I cannot live a happy life;
For love’s sake, dost thou die, and live by my own will?
But let not thy love alone be condemned,
And let love alone be guilty, if it so be thy will;
Let not your own will alone be praised,
But let thy own will alone be praised,
In this sense alone is love’s name.”
And he would, but she did not hold him in her hand;
For when the maid took him up, he saw the dapper maid,
The boy on his back, and in the grass with him:
But on her head was Collatine’s maid,
The rest of the maid’s company still, as the sun had begun
Hath droning down the sunless night.
‘Then did Collatine kiss her, and kiss her back,
To kiss and kiss, so they both took their way.
“Poor poor Collatine,” she moaned, “


======== CHECKPOINT 026 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Circreased;
His pale face, and in his soft breast
As if he were a prisoner, yet in his
He hath still the power of his love to speak
Some sad story, which in the night
He’ll tell a man’s story, if they have the power
To hear him tell it.
For thou hast thy treasure, thy reason thy right
To kill all that gives thee such good pleasure:
For if my life be in vain, I would live;
If mine own life be in vain, my own fortune
Doth the truth of all things lie,
And so doth he steal all the best of his
What is to be his own; and then doth he spend his
In the wrong.
‘But as her sweet, strong hand still trembled,
The red flower from her fair breast spread,
As the flood of water doth flow, as the tide doth change
The banks of his crest, as the shore doth rise.
As the world’s flood so chides thee so lovingly,
From this the world hath not seen it, and thou alone
Thou canst not be blamed, but I was wrong.
Thou shalt not have no such thing as me;
I am my own self; therefore excuse me,
And you, that by nature do trespass,
Have done me injury, that not by thy grace
This did thy self do so much injury.
‘My sweet, my sweet boy, when your strength
Shall bring in thy body a body that in thine
Will to bear thee down to hell.
‘Thy loving-kindling spirit with thee,
Till that thou wouldst leave thy self,
But with thy gentle hand do do thy self leave,
And yet in the way I love, do not return again:
“Let my heart be a lamb and my tongue be a shepherd,
And in thy bosom let my mind and heart have no more,
As in thee are these thy self’s self’s self,
Wherein all their parts are but one, and as they one
All together shall be as one, and like one one,
Their parts so often have but one effect,
That in every part they may seem to have
The same end.”
And, like a sickling bird, Collatine
Doth not budge from his perch,
Nor is she wail’d for fear of his wings,
Nor for her grief are she afraid lest they appear,
And all this her loving-kindling strength yields,
So can that gentle hand from that heart which she bears,
With that unswerving hand doth love this life.
The wind blows, and the sky is dark and dismal.
‘Then did I say to the poor devil that he could not get
More than the sun and moon, and thus did I speak:
‘And yet do I love thee so dearly,
In spite of what I say: but yet shall not my love be,
Because thou in me do speak the truth.’
He replies, ‘What should I say? thou art my friend,’
As to her, ‘That’s why I should speak so,
Which, being so blunt, makes him think,
Of his own well-dressed state, but he, with her hand,
Will show the advantage of thy beauty,
If thou art willing, to say more than I could say.’
As he says that, Lucrece cries, ‘Father!’
And the maid answers, ‘He is mad, and he thinks
That he is in his fault.
‘But now there is another boy in a closet,
And his eyes are like unto the sun,
When his eyes did see the sun that rose above.
‘’And yet thou wilt know better, when thou see’st thou wilt wilt find,
For that which thou see’st not, it is done:
This is my love, that thou dost,
If I may be free of the wanton eyes of thine,
Of the foul-mouthing eyes of thine,
And of that which thou wilt make me,
This I am, that thou shouldst call my name,
My true love, and therefore love is love’s light,
If any of this do seem too long, let him say it thus:
As soon as thou dost see my sight, let me kiss thee,
And do my will with thy will.
‘What, then, thou willst say to me?
If I have done this with my will,
My will, if thou dost say that it hath it,
I am with thee, and the earth with thee.
‘But what do thou mean when thou say’st thou love’s light,
The sight


======== CHECKPOINT 026 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Instant for your honour, and your honour’s sake; and, thus, in thy favour, the world’s eye doth view thee with disdain, and disdain all with rage; and therefore say that thou art all right, and that every part of my shame is mine, with thy self a slave to mine own wrong, and to mine own foul pleasure.
‘”And so it will be, as my life’s end, thou wilt see all but one day.‘’”‘”O,” quoth she, “let me be free,‘”‘”But as thou livest, so thou livest with me: if thou canst not live, then I will not live to thee.‘’”‘”No, my dear boy, I will not live to thee.‘’‘’‘’
That thou art to blame is my fault, and my fault is mine; therefore, being all-perfect and all-knowing, I must blame thee for my ill-doing.
‘So long as I have been married with my slave, and my slave with thy servile love, my faults have no end; but every other day the more I think their own, but that they themselves in some sense were better than theirs,
‘And therefore should they live,
As if their own self were as dead as heaven were.
‘Then for aught, if thou wilt live,
Mine own self, for me alone,
Is dead, and mine self dead.
But when thou wilt do this, I will be thy best,
And mine own will live.
‘But as thou wilt not live, do I not excuse
My own sins,
The world hath no excuse, but what thou wilt do,
Even as a man’s is not a slave to that which thou dost lie,
Hath laid his trust upon the thought that thy self were dead,
And thou mayst be dead for ever.‘”No,” quoth she, “my self was born,
And with thee I have never been.”
‘”But to have myself dead I dar’d have done,” quoth she, “
And yet thou art so, and yet no one would be so fair:
For no man hath yet died by thy bed’s breaking,
And yet my self was dead, as thou livest,
As I am dead, for my self is dead,
And yet my self remains, my self remains.”
‘Then did her sister stand by,
Like to the rest of the party,
So did she and her husband, whom she had held
Upon her bosom, and stood by;
She would not let them know, but she could not speak
Their thoughts, but they would say ‘He that hath gone, she doth go,
And will not abide her name but will lie in thy name.’
This word in her mind she writ,
This tongue in her mind she would speak,
And this tongue in her heart she would say: ‘Be not so kind,
As I am, to him are thine.
‘And yet, lo, I have done him honour,
But to him am I so fair, and so true,
That in him I do live, that in me never dies.’
But, in his turn, his tongue, which were full of disdain,
Whilst he spoke, her cheeks, in a kind of terror,
Shook at the thought of what he had done.
But now she would not allow them to talk,
And would not entertain her in his words;
Therefore he made them answer each other in question.
‘This time I will not leave thee so long as I live,’ quoth he, ‘
For thou wilt know it, my self shall survive,
And, by thy own self, will have thy self live again.’
“O,” quoth she, “how many words can I say before
In one verse, and one in several?”
And yet as they were thus recounting,
O who knows why we love thy self so?
‘Look how we, for heaven’s sake, have died for thee;
For we did die for thee, but for thee.
Therefore I have not forsaken thee, nor done thee wrong;
But in this, like a serpent, I have sinned.
‘‘”But that which thou dost call a sin,
Is more than thy true name: but that which thou dost call an idol,
That every false thing may be believed
Of thy love, but only true love.
When I was young, like a boy, and a man,
With eyes of blue, and of violet,
Which, with their glowing fire, were to appear
Whilst in the air was my beauty’s


======== CHECKPOINT 026 OUTPUT # 004 ========

�I would not wish thee to die, nor love thee dead:
As much for you as I, though it should please thee so,
So now with my knife would I use thine own,
And kill you in such a way as not to be slain,
That your death should be my excuse for your sake.
‘Why not my blood not stain thee in thine own stain?
But to thy self, which is so dear,
Thy self hath not the stain, nor is thy self dead.
And now that this hath been said,
It is a disgrace to say this, and no shame to say it:
I am proud that thou art my friend,
Thy self so, my self so, my self so, my self, thy self;
But thou art mine, and this to me belongs
Tis not my nature that thou shouldst deprive;
The fault lies with thee, and my self, with thee:
Thus my self is, but thou be my self.
“The question now is with me the fairest question,
Who should I be in my beauty and beauty’s fair,
The one that knows my complexion, the other that no one saw?
My own self should be my good beauty,
And yet my self be thy good beauty.
Thus, being questioned and rebuked,
And having been quarrelled and quelled,
A third, anon, fell from the sky;
The clouds sheathed in his mantle she doth dote,
And his arms were so wide that he might not fly,
That now all his majesty seemed lost,
As he is, and now is no longer;
His lips the more are they painted in,
That his lips still are; yet he doth smile now,
Though they not red, yet his lips white.
Now the sun is gone, and the wind doth not stay,
In the shadow of his head the sun doth rise,
And the wind doth dote in and dote out,
And still his head is cold, and still he doth fly.
Thus my self is a flower, not of flowers,
That didst delight me in thy sight.
My self, therefore, as thou art,
That I may bear this false disgrace,
I will bear, and bear to my fair self this false disgrace,
The one, thy self, is my own, and not thy self.
‘‘For it is the very self that made thee,
In the very self of that, which I have made thee,
To take thy self, thy self, thy self thyself:
Thy self is mine, mine is thy self, my self thy self.
‘‘If I had thy self, what part of me
Would it be, that in thee wast thy sight,
If thou wast thy self, it was my self,
And thou were the one, I was thy self,
The rest of me was my self;
That didst make thee, I was my self,
But I thyself, thy self, thy self was not thy self,
What I for thy self did do, thou for thy self did make it.
“Now I see thee, and the rest of me,
Hath seen him, and the rest of him hath seen;
Then I am not mad, nor the world mad.
Thy life, thy life, thy life, thy life, thy life:
And what can I say, that thou art the author of all this?
To that which I say thou art, so far as I see
All things are made up, for the purpose of perfection,
But to that which I do see is my most perfect,
And to that which I do not see is my greatest perfection,
So I do see but a little part of thee,
And as a man the part I like,
The other part is mine.
“And now from the midst of these thoughts,
Thy nature in thee,
Hath in thee every part, every part that thou dost call,
All in thee, and in thee is pure,
And in thee is truth, and in thee truth is perfect,
And in thee is truth, and in thee is falsehood.
As thou art in the world, so are my self and all my parts,
That I to each other my self to me be,
This is a great sin, and therefore I repent,
To this I say I did not see this sin,
The thing that I did see was my self,
And the thing that I did not see was my self,
The thing that I did see was my self,
That I to each other my self to me be,
This is a great sin, and therefore I repent,
To this


======== CHECKPOINT 026 OUTPUT # 005 ========

this false image of divine truth, and this false image of grace, and so she looks on thee, and she doth hate thee with a jealous eye,
But in thy self-love she shall not be angry with thee;
She would not love thy life if thou didst die,
And death is to thee my death, not my eternal place.
“My heart beats with pleasure; my cheek with pain;
My voice with deep sighs: ‘Father, thou art not my love,
My hand, my heart, my heart, my heart.
Then my hand with trembling force,
Gives the place of thine own hand to do all,
And in this, in this, in this, in this,
Like a heavy-built man the world is blown,
And all that it encloses
By the heavy load of a thousand cars doth seem;
To them and all the world with him she looks;
Yet no matter how fast she travels,
She will never find where she needs;
But her own hand will lend thee time,
And thy hand thy life, and all to a day:
The end of your life is nigh,
And the end of my, and all to thy benefit:
If thou dost, I will make thee better by thy act.
‘”Thou shalt not murder; you have no right to kill;
I do kill all men; I do not want you dead.”
This she did answer by, in verse,
For as thou art my love I will not die,
Thou art not my own; thou art my servant, and if thou dost kill,
My life is for thy sake; else thou shalt die and have no life.
‘But if thou hast not done this, then have not I done this
To teach thee, and to make thee partaker of my woes,
And let thy self be free to give thy life to love,
For thou art my master and I must do all together,
To do thee a favour, to do all for my sake:
“Why should I not give thee another chance,
Of this I would do not give you so much,
That I might not know whether the one of you is dead.
If I did give thee another chance of this life,
Then I should not lose the best for thee:
I have one more and thee another,
Who can stand this? thou art such a bastard to love,
That the best of such worthless things shall fall,
As their true prime was in the world dead.
But now in that world, my love was not alive,
And this is how I die, as I die before all my days.’
‘And so he was with them, and the wind,
Making all the winds to blow him from the sky,
And thus, his horse, with the wind, he fell;
A thousand proud knights, bearing arms, mounted on their horses,
Whose livery they were bound to the winds,
Showing their pride, and all the pride of the world:
All this the world knows, that it was for his sake,
And in the heavens, was the prince’s;
Then they all being done in him,
The world and heavens made each other happy,
Then all this was done as a dream,
Being so, the world being made,
And all that makes men happy and all that made heaven happy,
Making no other heaven then his.
“So they gave him some grass, some branches,
Some leaves, some bark, some twigs;
Some fresh things, some ripe flowers, some leaves;
Some strong flowers that the wind blows,
some strong things strong things weak things strong things.
‘”But, poor man, you see in thy face this sad state,
That all your woes are that I do not know.
‘”I will, though thou be so slow, to write thy sad story,
And to make thee such a thing as is here,
Of every thing I have seen, thou art such a fool,
That thou dost not see it in me.
‘But now to this, I beg pardon,
To be the worst man on earth,
And best in thy own worst,
And least in my best, so shalt thou stand:
Thy worth, thy worth, thy worth, thy worth.
Now with the help of this thought my thoughts are resolved,
For all the world hath heard of thee,
And in thee such a love as mine is,
As many as is to be known as thee.
O, how the heavens beheld thy glory,
And such a glory as mine was,
How thy eye did behold the sun that stood
And set upon the heaven and on the earth,
The sun that had set on


======== CHECKPOINT 027 OUTPUT # 001 ========

scheaseless.
(Pertaining to the earth, where she lives still,
To breathe herself out by the breath;)
His spirit doth lend her power, she doth teach;
When she can no more give this up,
Thou art a coward, and so she can never say
That she was doting on you, to be the better.
“Ay! then I see how many sorrows thou wilt inflict;
My eyes have seen thee like to a dove,
And doth behold your lusty nature.
That which thou wilt breed, thou dost breed sorrows,
And my heart’s chaste heart hath doth weep.
And now thou wilt not make the right
To lend my soul unto a husband,
That my honour may yet live with him:
For what is the worth of a thing, if I may not live it?
If any beauty, as one of these, be dead,
Who can love thee, why not thy worth?
A rose to my heart did she take,
And my honour, like a sweet, took no place;
Her beauty in her dainties, did make her love:
But thou that art in my love, do my love lend.
O, now she is gone, and so did I;
If ever I live, that time’s date I shall be:
And that, in the midst of my sorrow,
The day comes when I will give all to thy self,
As if thou alone alone dost give all my love.
Yet he that art slain in such an age:
His blood doth not stain my blood, but my eyes;
Or mine eyes are like bloodless clouds that are in their clouds:
But like a bloodless rain, their rain doth rain anew;
Then on my lips, like clouds of blood,
As the fair clouds dote their suns,
As they dote their heavenly lights,
My lips do bear thee up in my blood.
‘O, that was true, and that I had my soul so,
If thou dost give me more, what’s mine to be,
And I what to give back?
And therefore shall I make my love a vow,
To swear it on thee, and to give you more,
Thine will be my last proof, that thou art my love.
And now it comes to my dear heart,
And I to my lips with that love of mine,
Who love-love, for love is not to me thy doom,
but to thee my doom was made,
The worst I have ever seen nor ever saw be done.
For when thy sweet beauty was with thee,
What had made thee for mine, what thou thyself now,
Was done to me: not to thee thy beauty is,
And then, as thou wilt live in my likeness,
What shall I do with thee that will live,
For what shall I do with thee that will live,
When thou art dead, what shall I do with thee that will live?
For where you didst beguile me,
The thought that thou art a king of my life hath begun,
The thought that thou art my self,
The thought that thou art my self, the thought that thou art my self,
And yet thou art my self, not my self,
That to thee my self is thine, and to thee thy self
Thou art thine.
‘Then,’ quoth she, ‘it behooves thee here,
To teach thee in my tongue what thy self can do,
The way to thee thou art, and how to thee I am;
And yet I, being the master, am not the master’s,
Therefore I shall teach thee to be,
And what to thee thy self I am,
I shall teach thee, and what to thee thy self is.
For the thought that thou art a king of my life hath begun,
The thought that thou art my self, the thought that thou art my self,
And yet I am not thy self,
To thee my self is thine, and to thee thy self
Thou art thy self, not to my self is thy self;
For that which thy self art, thou art not my self,
Thou art my self, not to my self is thy self;
Thou art no self, but thou art mine, that which thy self doth dote,
Thou art thyself, but unto thee my self doth dote:
And therefore I, being the master, am not the master’s,
To teach thee what thy self can do,
The way to thee my self is, and how to thee thy self is,
And what to thee thy self is, I will teach thee;
But


======== CHECKPOINT 027 OUTPUT # 002 ========

borders to give her such liberty as she did not possess?
Her name was never so bold and proud,
As now she in the dark, and she in the light,
O’er her own heart, the cold of winter’s day,
The heavy of spring’s day, and of summer’s day,
To keep her cold with the cold of summer’s day
So that the cold of winter’s day,
So that the light of summer’s day,
To keep her cold with the light of summer’s day
To keep her cold with the light of summer’s day,
And so that the sun, the world’s most hot,
And the moon the world’s most cold,
As the world is as hot as she is cold,
Or as she is cold as she is hot,
Or as she is cold as she is hot,
Or as she is cold as she is hot,
She is like a dove where she lies,
To eat, but she eats to-day,
Who doth not find a nest where she may rest?
She never thought to live till she had seen her own eyes,
And all she did desire was love, and this to-morrow,
She would make me her supper, and then I would eat,
Which is to my own purpose now, now to-morrow,
And now again to love, and this to to-morrow.
‘And now let me tell you all, and tell your part,
I did not kill thy face with my tongue,
And then I tell you that I love thee more than thou didst kill.
And yet still thou shalt bear them to the end of my days,
Thou shalt see, I love thee more than thou didst kill.
O how many a day, a day thou couldst see,
And if thou didst still in this day, why shouldst thou make me love thee more?
‘O what a love-sick-killing lie
Such a wretched thing I did prove,
And yet thou didst make me hate more,
For being so, this poor man did make me love thee more,
For being so, this poor man did make me love thee more.
O what a pity I was!
No excuse would that this poor devil might still stay!
When I was on thy right, wherefore, so would I not fall!
If thou didst remain in this,
Then this poor child of mine would still stay!
I will not be bound on thy name,
For I do not hold the heart of all my heart,
Nor the hairs of thy breast nor the veins of thy cheek;
Nor the veins of thy lips nor the folds of thy face,
Nor the folds of thy lips nor the wrinkles thereof,
Nor the wrinkles thereof, nor the lines of thy nose,
Nor the wrinkles thereof, nor the wrinkles thereof,
Nor thy cheeks, nor thy lips,
nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy lips, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy lips, nor thy lips, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks, nor thy cheeks,
Nor thy cheeks, nor


======== CHECKPOINT 027 OUTPUT # 003 ========

demand it did not, that we were dead!
By this time I came to find that the river being blown dry,
He went away, to look again, but with tears doth abide,
For a while his eyes were filled with sorrow,
His blood ran cold on the face, his eyes were dark, his blood was warm,
His breath is not strong yet but yet it is strong,
Like the fire that burns in heaven.
To the ocean this day my heart beats so loud,
As if from some distant fire, I was in him,
That my love’s fire might set this flame anew
in his mind:
A thousand excuses, all false, in vain,
A thousand false arguments to show what my love
Is, and what my love’s essence is,
What my true nature is, and what it is made of,
What is it that gives it grace and makes it so,
What is it that shows it such perfection,
That it not all at once is converted,
As by chance it appears that this being is,
Being the subject of that which is said,
For such love, being as it was in him,
In such grace to show the matter how,
My love did have this grace, and such grace in thee,
That thou wilt not think of such false faults,
As when thou wilt think of such defects,
That thou wilt not think of such love,
That thou wilt not think of such wrongs,
Thou wilt not think of such wrongs,
And thou wilt not think of such good things,
Which for thy wrong is but fair,
And all other errors that thy right is:
The earth that gave thee strength,
Mine hand did tremble, but mine eye was free;
No injury was due, nor the earth did hurt,
For my hand, as the strongest I was,
Saw no hurt with mine eye, nor mine hand to strike.
So, for love’s sake, I shall excuse my love,
And give to thee all that thou shouldst have,
In thy beauty that so thou shouldst live,
When thou shouldst no more live to say,
That I love thee in thy beauty’s light.
My love is a mortal infection,
To this is that my love is slain,
For thy part thy parts, thy parts with mine own blood:
My part of thy parts thou hast, thou shouldst kill me.
He that did kill him, gave him life,
And death to himself that did give him life.
‘”This thou wilt never know,
That this thou hast not my love’s due:
But that my love’s due, I give it unto thee,
that thou mightst prove mine true love.
‘Lo! behold this is my friend, that is with thee;
He takes what he gives; and then his hand beats down his tongue;
“The hell that hath never been condemned to death!”
Thus, she runs her tongue from his head;
He stops to catch his breath;
So now she is on his neck, and, with the other side,
She drops his head, and then she drops his head again,
And then the others go on, but she stays
To kiss him, where he kneels, and kiss his cheek,
Whereon his lips are filled with kisses;
And on the ground in the sweet of their love’s sight,
His visage is full with her tears,
But his visage is full with tears’ sake,
Who in his joy takes the form of some sickly beast
Comes forth to take him away;
And every one that looks on him,
Holds his breath, and he sings,
like one in heaven, where every one breathes,
Hast thou taken away from me, my love’s ransom?
As a ransom for love’s sake I do grant it:
Thou hast done this to me, for thee thou hast done this,
And for thy sake I will take the trespass.
I give thee this trespass and I say thou shalt not trespass;
If that man shall stain thee with thy blood,
And stain thee with my blood, how can I please thee,
I love thee with all my heart, and thou wilt give me thy woe,
For I am thy friend and thy love’s friend,
Thy beauty is my friend, thy beauty is thy friend’s friend,
And thy beauty is thy friend’s friend’s friend,
And therefore must I kiss you, and weep for thee,
Thy worth in this love’s worth is one’s will,
No stain upon this, but upon thy worth is one’s will.
‘”For shame, then, this I see thee;
Thy beauty’s worth must


======== CHECKPOINT 027 OUTPUT # 004 ========

usual on this occasion to speak of the best and the most glorious of times.
I have sworn, before I began, my love’s true desire; yet I have sworn so much of it, I cannot say I have seen the thing my husband thought did lie.
‘So much of that, is writ in thy self, so much more; I have no more to fear than the cold wind, and I have no more to fear than the fire.
‘I may be free, my true love may be boundless; and yet not for love of freedom,
For love’s sake, thou dost love me,
Unless, I must give thee back, and then thou shalt not be mine.’
‘For love dost have time of leisure,
Which time in my leisure takes up;
And that time now in my leisure
In my leisure’s time wastes, and in mine time
Gives time to waste, and gives time to time to waste.
‘”But not all, therefore,’ quoth she, ‘have time’s appetite,
Which then in Time’s appetite gives thee the pleasure.
“How should I tell you, dear friend, why I loved,
When you are dead, and I not?
How should I show you, dear friend, how I should show
you your worth, how you should tell me of your faults,
And how you should be remembered if you live,
As those who have been in your memory,
Gone in age, in age by your deaths.
If you live then my will be done.
‘This desire of mine had a greater effect,
than her sweet desire of yours,
With whom she would kiss, and weep for hours;
If she would kiss more, then that kiss must be done,
Then by thy loving side she must love thee even more,
Which should be such a pity that she woos her tears.’
‘But then,” quoth she, “why should I be the mistress,
Of your heart that my heart makes such heavy groans?
If I die, let my heart be the executor;
Let my heart be the executor of your crime,
And let your heart and your blood do the same:
Love to thee so fair a heart,
As all of the heavens are for my death,
As to all the earth for your sake.”
Then love’s light from heaven is dimmed,
and my love’s light is dimmed again:
Which therefore, like a lamp that doth stay bright
On all that time, is dimmed again
In that time, where no part of it ever sleeps.
When art thou art gone, there is not time for me
To weep for thee: why dost thou weep
To be gone, and wherefore wert thou alone gone?
Or when I was gone, how can I not return,
If thou wilt be remembered and my love die,
And not the time to return me,
And wilt remain with me, when I am gone?
How then shall I be remembered, when I am gone?
When I was gone, I was never left.
Then is it true that the days of my life are gone,
And all my worth, and all my looks,
As ever, and in every thing, will hereafter come.
‘”And my reason, my love, my love’s sweet heart,
For ever as I die, as you with me,
This is my life, and all my rest I have:
A part from thee, a part from thee.
‘But my reason, my love, my love’s sweet heart,
My reason, my love, my love’s sweet heart,
My reason, my love, my love’s sweet heart,
My reason, my love, my love’s sweet heart,
My reason, my love, my love’s sweet heart,
My reason, my love, my love’s sweet heart,
‘But my reason, my love, my love’s sweet heart,
‘Then my reason, my love, my love’s sweet heart,
My reason, my love, my love’s sweet heart,
My reason, my love, my love’s sweet heart,
my reason, my love, my love’s sweet heart,
For my reason, my love, my love’s sweet heart,
The very thing which I was. ‘But love did have no cause,
But when he himself saw me, he wistfully he said,
‘Look at that, that sweet face,’ quoth he; ‘that nice face,
Gives my heart all the light it needs.’
Then she would say nothing but that he was smiling;
As though he had not seen his true form,
But, to spite his modesty, his self-will did frown,
And then she would say he was frowning


======== CHECKPOINT 027 OUTPUT # 005 ========

subtly being to be kept from public view, so to speak.
A little while after this, she went to look at me with a curious eye.
“Ah! why so?” quoth she;
“To make thee a spy of Collatine,
To see how much she covets the day,
What she dotes on, and thinks none of it!
No one knows that she is a spy,
To make him so, and no one else knows it!
If I did, thou wouldst know thy thoughts,
My heart would burn in this rage, my soul would cry;
But, by thee, thou art all but dead,
The world would weep and pity thee so,
And thou wouldst seem to weep, and to weep not at thee;
But thou wouldst make me blush, and yet not at me.
No, thou didst love me as thou didst love me,
And that is so.
I am well contented, but I shall not bear this,
To know that thou art dead or that thou art not,
Unless in the shape of me thou make,
The world to kill me shall think thee so,
To be slain I will not be so:
To kill me I must be slain, and to die thou shalt never
Know, either, that I am dead, or not so.
“Thus saith the Lord of the night,
The day’s hours are in full view,
For if he would not let the sun see,
Then sun alone should not shine on the night.
“How many times have I not observed,
In all the time I have seen;
And yet I have felt that there is a part,
That we can both have our present glory,
And that what we cannot or want can we gain.
And yet I have seen nothing, neither I, nor I,
And have never had the heart nor will to have it,
When in my time thy judgement knows me;
Then how many years’ worth is there of me?
If I cannot live to my age, why let my name live,
What is left of my time for thee?
How often do I think, that I am dead, or that I am not,
Then why not the end of my life so well expressed?
Yet I know not what time my death be;
But thou that dost end, if thou dost not live.
Thou art dead; now I know that I am dead,
And that I am dead, thou that dost die,
is a false friend, and yet never in truth can remain,
The thought of a dead thing so false.
“And then in my rage, to the great day
The sun is out, and in my thoughts doth shine;
And from me the stars do their utmost light,
And from me the moon looks and doth shine;
And therefore I to my own breast I give light,
And as thy sight from me thou dost gain,
Then do not leave it for my eyes alone,
To make the night and day to night, and to day to day.
Then is I the light of my night, and my day to day,
And on them is so fair, and yet so dim,
That I have no night of my day, nor day of my night,
The sun nor moon see nor do they see
The face of nature, and yet thou art the shadow of my night.
This is said to him by this gentle maid,
She speaks this in his voice, and yet I do not know:
“This, then, the sun, and all men’s faces,
Is the greatest disgrace and most heinous crime
Of Sin, and of all men’s faces,
What shall I say to thee, or to thee, when I have done?
When I have done, thou art all I, and therefore shall I be,
When I have done, thou art all I; and therefore shall I be,
Thy beauty doth not stain thy sight;
And yet thou dost blot out thy sight.
“So, I do my best, to make thee a slave,
To take my labour in other works,
And to do thy good by them, till I have been,
Or ever will be, that thy part in me shall remain.
The same, therefore, I do mine best, to make thee a slave,
That thy part in me shall remain.
“But now, how shall I manage to make myself a slave,
By taking my labour elsewhere;
And then, how shall I manage to make myself a slave,
By my time being gone, and thus making myself free?
“What, then, shall I say, so canst thou wert a slave,
To-morrow I’ll kill


======== CHECKPOINT 028 OUTPUT # 001 ========

Trigger or foul language, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul taste, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul smell, or foul smell


======== CHECKPOINT 028 OUTPUT # 002 ========

subsid and in her place.
(Till they had descended to the bottom, when they saw the rose,
‘Come again; but now you see me in bed. I have been, and you are.’
‘And now,’ quoth she, ‘you have been and me,
As birds that sing; so to thee I am still,
As one that ever in your memory did sing.’
When she is gone, she sets about his neck,
That on their heads each side looks on his face
So to himself, but to himself so he sits
Like a prisoner in a prison, and by him is tied
His bed, and as he sits, another prisoner
runs about his closet,
And at each door he doth look in each other’s eyes.
‘Now, for thy sake,’ quoth she, ‘if thou hast not,
Then must I be thy slave, too weak for thee
To beg and beguile thee at such a cost.’
‘But in vain,’ quoth she, ‘you have given the poor man
The gift of your worth, and the thing he shall owe
He must live by the sword.
Thy sweet lord, thou cursed bastard,
Thy worth hath stolen away the life, and the life
Of thy sweet self: thou cursed bastard,
The treasure you steal away from me, and the life
Which my sweet lord, thy life’s ransom, must make.
This is the way, what’s my way?
O, if thou art not my worth,
My worth, my beauty, my worth cannot be;
Thou art all-seeing and all-seeing,
That all is to you but the sum of thy life,
Thy beauty and all-seeing all is to me:
So thou art all-seeing and all-seeing,
But nothing but beauty, and nothing but my beauty,
Shall come back again, and never live again.
Look at how thou art blind, how thou wast blind
When thou dost turn to this blind spot.
‘Look now, for my sake, for thy sake,’ quoth she, ‘for my sake
I should not be like this,
If thou wouldst be such a man as I am,
In every thing I do am done with thee;
To do what thou willest, but with me is done.
I should kill you now, but not now,
When you will give up the chase of my life,
And now you will not rob me of my love.
For thou wast thy good and my defect,
That I should be forced to give thee the chase.
So be it, my good desire, or not,
That thou art thy good and mine is thy poor;
Or worse, that thou shouldst do so,
Or worse, I am so happy with thy death.
‘I will be the one to weep and lament,
And to weep for the life of a friend I shall keep,
Then would I be your mother’s advocate,
Since for my sake I was a friend,
Thy death, my death will be a new age,
And not the end of my living,
As I was a friend of mine being dead,
Thy beauty, thy beauty’s loss, thy loss
So must I live, and not die.”
‘Thou hast been the one whom I have been forced to kill,
For all these faults have she done my heart,
Which through thee had my life’s work contracted,
And now my life’s work contracted all her love,
With him she had done to me an end.
‘O, my dear friend, if thou art the one,
If I am dead, thou willst live, and this is no argument,
Even to thy death, this is my love’s end,
To be dead, and then thou canst be dead;
Therefore I will live for thee, and then thou canst be dead;
Thus then do I plead my love for thy sake,
And if I die, then my love will live,
And then my love will live for thee,
That thou art dead, and then thou mayst be dead.
So, though for grief I weep for thee,
Even so my love shall live for thee,
To be dead, and then thou canst be dead;
Therefore I will live for thee, and then thou canst be dead;
Thus then do I plead my love for thy sake,
And if I die, then my love shall live,
And then my love will live for thee,
And then my love shall live for thee,
This will I plead in the hope of your pardon;
This will I plead in the fear of your pardon;
But no, that’s not what I plead,
The reason why is, but this


======== CHECKPOINT 028 OUTPUT # 003 ========

flavored and sweet; his complexion being kind, gentle and gracious.
For him I have a constant desire of sweets,
To make him come to my bed, and where he dwells he feeds.
Thou art so kind and kind a fool,
Thou art so true a boy,
That thou willst never think that thou dost deceive me,
And yet in this untrue heart I will praise thee,
But never will I ever write to thee,
That thou mayst prove me right,
To be a true man and false love,
And love’s deceiver to ever be found.
‘Twixt this time and that, he says,
‘Thou must have, thou must have,
But no such excuse dost give;
For the man hath all his strength, but he no strength,
No self-love, no self-doubting love
Could survive this abuse without his will.
When in this time the day’s fair wind doth blow,
He doth chase away all her creatures,
His thoughts, and all his self in them;
And all this doth he do in him make them feel;
If I know that thy will is not right,
For the will that thou dost make my will strong,
Then I know thy will to love, and I hate thee,
And for thy will do that I hate thee so,
For I am all thy will and all thy will,
Thy will doth hold me back, and I am dead,
And death in thee doth stay,
For thou wilt live again, till all thy will doth stay.
The night is full of his desire,
The night is full of my fears,
And night is full of my love,
And day, night, day, and night I lie,
For now all my heart’s desire doth stay
And night’s eyes all dote all their faces;
Then why dost I no good night,
Yet that I see thee doth it stay,
And in my grief doth the world give me
Some kind of good night’s pleasure?
My sorrow is in my heart’s desire,
And the poor sweet thing being put to death,
Till it may still live but for the love that doth love.
This desire is a true and all-conquerable foe,
That even in the blood of the dead may live,
That not for this sin can I live or be,
That in my love I might live but for thee,
And with thy will I live to the end of time.
And now the sun is come, and she in her torch
Grows red and pale, and that shade is full bright.
As she looks upon it with disdainful eye,
Some say she doth not wish it was so,
Though it appear a bright hue,
With others he doth see it wear,
And that beauty with beauty doth love,
And that beauty doth hate her,
Because she hath made that which shall be doth make him hate her.
‘”This is the day that thou shalt wake up,
For the wind doth blow,
And all the creatures in them doth fly.
When he says he will wake from his bed,
He stops him, throws his handkerchief,
And throws a sigh to Lucrece,
And the tears begin to spill forth,
And in tears with Lucrece’s cheeks
Will write to Lucrece with words of beauty:
‘O, my love! my love! how canst thou art so foul
That my love is so foul that no eye knows it?
If thy love were of such gentle nature,
Then should I not have thine in thee,
Yet to death I love, and so to thee I die,
And this will not be thought ill;
As if my love were mortal,
And by mortal blood this mortal love shall live:
But as mortal blood, it shall live and die,
As thy love shall live, and die,
I love thee so very, that for my love is thy.
How shall I find a pen to record this love?
“But if thou wilt not tell me this,
I’ll take thy note for myself;
And I’ll say the thing I should say.
“But no one can hear my cries and say it was made
With such unhygienic skill as mine;
But what is said in my voice, my words do think,
And mine alone knows where the cause lies;
For my words are but words, which my heart cannot hear.
Then he takes up his knife and strikes Lucrece by the head,
The poor creature wringing her neck,
Which by her neck the bullet was lodged;
To which she falls


======== CHECKPOINT 028 OUTPUT # 004 ========

426 for each
(purchased) was due, to be reckoned with his
due;
But, as the merchant’s fee did pay him,
The poorer was still with his debt,
For the poorer had all the proceeds to pay
His debt; the poorer, for the greater part
As his worth to be esteemed.
The poor would seem to think that she had lent him;
And yet she did make him promise her services
And show them his hand, and show him his face,
Till he, having lent him his fair fee,
would pay for it in a few hours’ time.
‘”Then why should my husband stay so long,
The night’s more sweet than the day’s sweet,
Though he be all night too cold to his senses?
What art thou, that my love might be so dear,
And all that thou wilt be so gentle,
Which is not thy love’s effect so good?
“Look what a waste of a wife’s blood
I find there, still fresh in her womb,
Whereon one could hear a wail, ‘Shall be,’
‘Let not this dreadful day come to an end.’
O love’s sweetest child she had not,
That to make her deathful hour her last was;
She was a slave of a devil,
That her life had sworn to do with her;
She still is, still to be, but to kill.
‘For my love, thou art my wife,’ quoth he,
‘”I have a vow, and I intend to make a new,
One thousand thine, one thousand thy parts.”
Thus she began to weep, and to weep and cry aloud,
‘For he that desires me, I will not beguile;
For my love, thou art my wife, thou art mine,
If thy love, thy love’s love, my love’s love, my love’s love,
Be so, O love, thy love’s love, thy love’s love, my love’s love,
If that is not, I will not kill thee.’
The painter, in his painterly style,
The painter shows the painter’s picture,
The painter shows the painter’s mind;
He shows the painter’s mind, and the painter’s mind
Show’d the painter’s mind, and the painter’s mind
Show’d the painter’s mind, and the painter’s mind
Show’d the painter’s mind, and the painter’s mind
Show’d the painter’s mind, and the painter’s mind
Show’d the painter’s mind, and the painter’s mind
Show’d the painter’s mind, and the painter’s mind
Show’d the painter’s mind, and the painter’s mind
Show’d the painter’s mind, and the painter’s mind
Show’d the painter’s mind, and the painter’s mind
“O what kind of sorrow is this?” quoth he,
And shakes his head, and shakes his head again:
Thy eye is pale, and mine eye is still green,
And like that, all my heart doth quake:
I have the eye of thy love, and not thy love’s eye;
So thou, my love, I cannot make thee leave
My face, and thy soul do my matter remain;
‘Tis to thy pleasure to betray my love:
Then thy worth in me thy worth in thee cannot remain:
Then thou, my love, I cannot make thee forsake;
Thy worth in me thy worth in thee cannot remain;
Yet thou, my love, I cannot make thee forsake;
Thy worth in me thy worth in thee cannot stay:
Yet thou, my love, I cannot make thee forsake:
Thy worth in me thy worth in thee cannot stay:
Thy worth in me thy worth in thee cannot stay:
For now thy worth is lost, and now thy worth is still:
I would not have forsook thee, but now my heart beats in me.
O love, love of love, your love, your love,
That your love may come unto me, I have no love,
Yet thy love may come to me, and now my heart beats in me.
‘O, how fair a night it was!
As though the night be dark, yet thy light be gone.
‘But how fair a day it was!
For my heart, my heart, my heart, thy heart:
Thy heart, thy heart, thy heart, thy heart:
O, how fair a day it was!
As though the night be dark, yet thy light be gone.
‘And if thy heart be light, but thy heart be dark,
And if thy heart be dark, but thy heart be bright,
And if thy heart be bright, but thy heart be dark,
Then thou art my


======== CHECKPOINT 028 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Right and forthwith thou shalt never depart.
‘”What was the sin of thy being,
What should I fear, what might I fear?
If a devil could make me go and kill thee,
No sin in thee can I be.
This is the best of all, and I’ll take
The day in which I shall live, and tomorrow shall be.
In what mood shall my heart set,
That every day of my life is like a waking hour?
Who shall not make thee so proud?
For love, in thee lies nothing but love’s stain.
Who can say, ‘I did not do this,’
Nor can I, nor I, nor thou dost excuse,
So much as for love’s sake, yet in that I did;
So love, in her, in me lies her disgrace.
‘So thou shalt never see my face again,’ quoth she,
‘nor any of my blood that hath I spilt,
nor blood I should drink again.’
‘What’s the matter with thee,’ quoth she, ‘if it can ever be,
What’s the matter with thee, what’s the matter with my blood?
‘”Look at this ugly boy; here he stands,
And with his back he holds a gun drawn.
Thou art their lord, and their self to shame.
This sight, like a deep crystal to their glass,
Sings them to their hearts like a knife:
Their grief is, the greater part;
The lesser part suffers, the greater part is made happy.
My poor heart’s joy is the cause of my heart’s grief,
Her sorrow the cause of my sorrow.
She doth say that my tears, my joys, my tears have not stained.
Then shall the love which thou shalt have,
The worst sorrow, and all the good which thou hast,
That thou art to blame shall be thy fair trial,
If thou wilt make thy true love stain,
If thou wilt make me stain my honour,
If I stain the honour of my false name.
My heart being in love hath no pleasure in me,
My heart in love hath none in me,
Nor satisfaction in me but pleasure in others:
And yet thou, my heart and heart’s worth is,
And my sorrow is the fairest in it,
But my joy is far greater in thee,
Than in thee, for I have not been taught,
To weep, and weep on me,
To kiss, and kiss on me, and kiss on me,
To suckle and suckle on me, and suckle on me:
If you did not have a father, you could not kiss me,
In spite of what you did love.
That your loving-kindling tongue may ever sing,
Which to thee is not a verse but a moan,
To me it is the breath of a deep-sorrow’d heart,
Who doth exclaim, ‘I did not, nor thou dost excuse,’
O what a sad plight thou art!
Thy self-same, but with a self-same stain:
That’s thy self’s self, thou shalt not shame me;
When I die, thy last sorrow will not be:
So be it, my friend, to live by thee,
And to die, thou shalt never forget me!
Hiss like a great heavy cloud, whose winds blow
Their ranks high, their contents low,
Each one his worth so far exceeds the sum of his parts.
“What foul devil is this,
That weeps in the dark and fears no bright sight?
Who shall bear the sick and die with the ill?
How many of them have my honour,
Why do we think that so many do?
And what excuse do they give for that?
What excuse do they have for their love?
What excuse do they have for their evil?
How often have they sung in praise,
The better to the worse,
And no excuses ever show for their worse.
‘”O then what sorrow canst thou give,
For I cannot be buried in thy grief’s stain?
I cannot be buried in thy grief’s stain,
And not in the rest, but in thy sorrow’s disgrace.”
The sun began to wail and the wind was kind.
Hissing a loud shrieking she on her way,
Which drew her eye from her husband,
With trembling fingers she gently climbed the rocky mountain,
The gentle night which her tender maid kept so:
‘Here, as it hath descended, so should all things go:
Her soft voice, and her hot breath,
To stir the river to a full flow,
Then, as if she were with thee, as if she were with thee,
A thousand springs in the distance rise, and forth


======== CHECKPOINT 029 OUTPUT # 001 ========

sacrific of their own wills;
And thou so lov’st my soul, O Love, so thou lov’st my soul,
Thy love hath but a taste of beauty,
And then thou wilt be mine; yet then I love thee,
Like thy shadow as a child, and yet thy face
Will never be seen in my soul, nor in thy body,
Thy beauty in all thy matter will die.
For thou art so beautiful, that thou bewitcht no one,
Nor I that ever saw thee, shall ever be remembered,
For what I did on earth was not thy will,
Nor did my soul have power over my heart.
“O, it is said, that thou art like unto the sun,
As thou that dost lie, like to this,
Upon this earth that thy shadow doth shine,
I would like to have thee; but no, thou know’st what I do,
Thy light shines but on me, and not on thee,
For thou art my light, and thy sun doth shine
As on my heart is not his light.
Therefore what good or true I had,
In thee was my light, and on me was none;
But where thou art, where thou art not, why dost thou dwell,
What effect my spirit in thee shall have,
O that my life in thee doth die,
Why dost thou not live in me, so I live in thee?
O what a disgrace then is my life!
When thou art dead, who art thy father,
Where are thy sons, thy daughters, and your nieces?
Or where do I owe you, if thou art dead,
And why dost thou owe me this sad state,
Which was never owed but to give it back?
Thou must be dead in my self, not in thee;
For mine is life’s stain on the world’s eyes,
And therefore I will not forgive thee of my life.
“My dear dear, dear, dear, do not think I have never hurt you
I do not love to have it, but I feel it.
And yet I love it not, because I must,
Yet I should not be so kind as to betray it to thee,
To be so nice in love’s eyes, but in mine own.
‘My dear friend, I have done so much; yet thou hast done more than I can do;
I am no more than thy mistress, your slave;
Thou shalt never hold me, nor ever be my master;
Thou art my mistress, my love’s mistress,
And never will be my slave to thee;
Thou art my love, and to me I have committed.
‘My dear friend, I did not kiss you as I did to-night;
You did not kiss me as I did to-night;
Nor will I kiss you again as I did to-night;
Unless by thy grace I should, thy grace shall win the day;
Then my fair sweet love, my fair queen, thou wast my sweet,
But my fair queen my fair queen was mine,
And I in thee shall live.
‘”To-morrow,” quoth she, “if I was your love,
Thy good-doing deed would not be a death’s disgrace,
As if my good deed, thy good deed,
Were made so by thy worth.‘”‘”Then is he to the fair-seeing eye
Where she beholds a fair painting and to-night,
Hearing a groan, and a groan, and a groan,
From a distance, where, from the tree which she had pluck’d,
She sees him now and again with trembling eyes,
And by this her sight is struck with trembling gait;
In this she hears her heart exclaim, “Beg pardon, this is my fault,”
And her heart to this concludes her answer:—
“My dear, what could it have been
That had such a heart as mine,
Thy tears, thy tears, thy sorrows, thy cries, thy cries, thy tears;
But thou were my soul, my soul’s breath, breath, and breath;
That breath, breath, breath, breath, breath, breath, breath, breath, breath, breath, breath, breath;
breath, breath, breath, breath, breath, breath, breath, breath, breath, breath;
The breath, breath, breath, breath, breath, breath, breath, breath;
The breath, breath, breath, breath, breath, breath, breath, breath, breath, breath, breath;
The breath, breath, breath, breath, breath, breath, breath, breath, breath;
the breath, breath, breath, breath, breath, breath,


======== CHECKPOINT 029 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Dusaries, that the poor soul from her sepulchres with so many,
In her pilgrimage would give her way,
For by thee in the flood of woes shall fill the earth.
“The maid that looks on thee as she enters the city,
A wretch from a state of beauty doth seem
To love her, yet she doth not love her so.
She knows how much sorrow I owe her,
What a waste of my mind did thou throw,
What a poor fool I saw where thou didst show me.”
She stops, and looks at him,
And that his pale complexion is so dark,
That she cannot bear his sighs,
When they so sweetly bear, their voices so heavy,
Who, not hearing her, can no longer feel his hand,
The painter’s knife being done.
‘O, my love, I did not leave my bed;
The wind from a rocky hill that keeps it windy,
Whose shade hides nothing but filth and dust;
I’ll be revenged upon thee;
Who shall then accuse me of false-speaking,
And slander’d, by my good nature’s fault?
To find false that is reprobate,
Till I prove myself true, and so be saved:
To prove that I am false, it would not be so.
‘”O, my love, why do I not tell,
That I am not your beauty? why then I must not be your heart?
No, no, my love, not to prove it to me,
But to prove my love to myself, it is my duty to prove it;
And as you know me well, my love did I begin,
to express myself through your words,
Or to use them for my own purpose,
To make my words clearer, more clearer?
‘That,’ quoth she, ‘if you do, I’ll be proud.
So when thou dost make such a disgrace to my soul,
Thou shalt die, and never return again:
That’s my will; thou shalt keep that will of mine,
When in the day and night I have no end of my night:
When my life depends on the night’s best?
The world that cares for thee doth so cherish me,
That even then I am the world’s most dear object,
The world’s most beloved friend, and best ornament,
Of love and of death and sorrow;
But this, in spite of my vows, hath not kept me from thee:
But as that honour should survive, so shall thy love,
By thy love’s part be confounded,
To the end that death should live for ever.
‘Look what he did,’ quoth she, ‘he drew from his knife,
Which on that knife, his hand that was in his breast,
He tore the rose from his breast, and set it in a rose-bed.
For he had no knife to use his fingers,
Yet there he went; ’tis no excuse, but love’s right:
For then he did break the knife and shoot his knife:
A thousand tears, of white he had drenched,
And, from that bloodless wound, red and pale,
Stood with greater force than the wind,
Which had subdued the wind and made it tame,
In a fresh fire a fire to keep it cool.
Thus her father, her mother, her brother,
All had his hand, and with the other held her prisoner.
‘Thus am I,’ quoth she, ‘if thou dost see me,
With my tears I will repay thee.
This word, thus she speaks, ’tis mine that thou shalt kiss,
Love was never my mistress nor my friend,
Love was my friend and me my love,
As the wind itself drew thee in to him.
That thy self should bear me still,
My soul’s treasure shall bear me still,
That my treasure shall be rich,
That no treasure can live but my self.
As thou wilt in this deed, as thou in my body,
As thou in me, as in thy will,
As thou in me, as in my will,
And through my will through thy will, shall all be granted,
Even in this earth’s love of thee,
Thy will be free, and all free be all free:
What love dost desire is to be born again,
From thence to be born again by thee?
Which is your love now, and to be born again?
And as thou shalt make thy will to receive the life
Of life, I will make thee my self;
As thou livest, I will make thee thy self.
This then is thy love, that thou mayst be made
Like unto the sun, and his stars,


======== CHECKPOINT 029 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Michael, what did I get but a kiss?
No love, no love at all, but thine own;
What you got in thine eyes, what you had in thy heart,
Where none can find nor enjoy.
“That’s a sad story, my dear,” quoth he, “but I tell it not.”
“Then what dost thou desire?” quoth she, “but to have my dear soul with thee,
To be with thee to live where I am and then be bereft of him?
I’ll give my life to thy sweet, if thou willst let me live,
To live as I am. ’tis so with you, dear Lucrece.”
‘Then why,’ quoth she, “you must not hate me,
Unless you hate me even now.”
“Then I’ll die, and never be revenged;
If I die before my fair day, and the day is done,
But by this time that’s been, what shall I do?
To live the night, and not tomorrow?
To live the day, and tomorrow never be revenged?
If this chance should come, then he lives or dies,
And that shall his fortune bestow.”
‘”Fair dame,’ quoth she, ‘how many more will I have here?’
“But then I should do my duty and go straight:
When in-and-through-these walls thou wilt not be
I will leave you; but be thy true self:
When you die, let no false hope stand in
Or give me an excuse for your coming:
And in the last breath that breath I’ll burn with fire:
And when I am done, let this thought suffice
To keep me in this last, my love’s flame.”
‘”When is not this time?” quoth she, “when all eyes are upon me?”
As if this might say so, to the world’s eyes,
My love, my love’s love is a dead book,
Which every soul knows in another life to copy,
And to lose in their grief, to lose in each others’ grief.
For where am I, if death be my good,
What am I with thee, what am I with thee?
O, what are thy faults, what are thy defects?
A life, and death, and hell, and every good part of me,
Are but the accidents which are made, to-day,
All these things being now so, I am no longer,
The love of thy parts and thy parts’ parts;
A life, a death, a hell;
All these things, in one, are so, to-morrow,
That I’ll have my body but in thy parts:
And thus, being so, thou art nothing but of my self:
I love thee, and to-morrow I will not be
Grieving, nor loving, nor being bereaved;
And now the world hath the truth, and thou art of love’s picture,
Thou art nothing, but of love’s picture of all time,
For now I have the truth, and now thou art of love’s picture,
Thou art none but of my self. I do not love thee,
But thou art no other, neither of love’s picture but of me.
But that which I do adore thee, my life depends
upon thee, and not on thee,
This constant repetition is all but death’s charm;
Love did make me so. ‘Tis true, and true:
That I was a devil, and yet love was no devil,
But one like him, not a devil like you.
‘For now,” quoth she, “if there are no evil in my sight,
I am gone, I shall not look on you;
I shall see you, if I shall not see you in your sight;
Then that’s my doom.”
“And where is thy grief, my dear?” quoth she, “why hast thou forsook me,
For my love was a dead friend?”
And why not for my love and my sake
For that which I love to hate?
When in the love of my best self
Love’s true form doth seem dead,
What beauty doth die and still doth live,
The one doth bear the other’s ugly stain,
The other lives and yet still doth live,
But the former dies with the other’s disgrace.
Now it is my duty to tell your love,
The other’s true form dead and still living,
To make your dear self your true love.
So you will look upon me, and, being thus told,
As if a devil were slain, like a rose,
Whose flower’s sap doth stand before the sky,
Till his face being sawn away


======== CHECKPOINT 029 OUTPUT # 004 ========

ebus for his sake, and for his sake
And by thy deeds have not thy sweet words ended.
Thou art my fair friend, and my friend’s mistress,
And when he will have his fair night to hear,
Mine ear I will hold in my mind:
I will kiss his cheek, and in his ear he’ll chide,
And I’ll kiss his heart, and in his heart he’ll laugh,
And all the while he stares and cries in amazement.
What he tells me, I’ll say to myself,
For all my offences I will be revenged,
For thou hast done me wrong.
‘But now, when I wake up in this grove,
The night will be far out, and that where thou stay,
Will seem to thee like a night of rest,
That is as gentle to thee as it is to me.
Now that I wake up in a deep grove,
And the dark earth with my bed’s light
doth the day stand by, and my heart’s rest,
And now I can see my heart again,
That hath not gone, nor not gone this night;
The world hath now let me know my shame.
“So shalt thou wail, and then shalt thou say,
That thou shalt not break in that which I vow;
This vow to me is thy love, and if I should break,
Then shall I say, ‘I am dead, thy love.’
And in my tears I will swear my love to thee,
And in mine own tears I will swear my love to thee,
With that which thou hast sworn to me that I swore,
Thy love will I swear with love to thee still,
that I do vow to thee, and yet not to thee,
That I have not sworn to thee, and yet thou dost swear.
This love is in me for love, that thou dost swear:
Yet to myself I would swear, but to myself I would not swear.
Now this is my hope, my hope for you.
In this hope, there is no other hope,
For my hope is but love, that thou shalt not be slain.
If I had that, all my worth in your eyes
Would have vanished and every creature in you
Would be like a fairy’s fair angel, shining in the sky,
Like a man who lives for the sake of his friend,
Who loves to show his beauty in such numbers,
That it may be admired that he is such,
Even to those fools that know not where he lies,
In his shadow they might see what the star is,
Who shines down on his golden foil,
Who doth his picture flatter the world, and makes it laugh.
When thou wilt say, ‘I love you as I have loved thee,’
I am content to have that which thou wilt give me,
And let it suffice thee to say, ‘I love thee as I have loved thee.’
Then why should I not love thee as I have loved thee,
Though I love thee as thou art?
My love as thou art my self, and I my self
In thy self, and then in thee, and thou alone:
“Now that I wake up in this grove, the dark earth with my bed’s light,
And the dark earth with my bed’s light doth the day stand,
And my heart’s rest, that which thou hast sworn to me,
Doth this world but live till death, and never live again.
Then what of a fool mayst thou think to make me change,
My mind mayst I say, my heart hath died,
Thy heart hath never been a man, and never been a beast;
The world was but a small child, being so,
That, being so, thou art the fairest slave to my heart,
And if thou be not thine, that will rob thee of it.
My heart was not a boy’s heart, but a man’s heart,
And if thou shouldst ever live again, and yet ever live again,
Thy heart’s heart hath not death and death hath death.
O then I think thou the fairest, and yet thou this worst;
So shall I kill thy heart and my love,
That if thou shouldst live, that my heart thou art,
Which shouldst live in thee to kill thy life.
‘Look, there are many of my dear-friends in thee;
That I cannot know, nor touch, nor speak,
But in their hearts and in their minds lies
a thousand woes, untold, and many untold woes.
But as I beheld the stars burning in the sky,
Whereon I saw the sun that had given life to the night,
Which had been chang’d by night’s fire to light


======== CHECKPOINT 029 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Because of my pride,
Whose heart is too wide to obey thee,
Thy eye my pride hath not seen,
Who never saw my lust or my love,
Whereof they should be born, and do live but for love,
Who should not be born then, but when thy love shall be,
Where it shall live, it shall die.
So let it not be but that in this very time
My poor soul in this self-indulging world
Doth spend this time, my dear father-in-law,
Which, as the days wear on, my self is made old,
By my youth-delights to be old, and all my youth to live,
That I shall by my leisure and my time begin,
To be young as ever was, that now I in you
should see my self as alive as can be,
My self as dead and gone, if ever you will look.
The painter says the night-star shines,
And beauty with her is born: ‘O night-star,’ she cries,
‘O night-star,’ she exclaims, ‘I am blind;
My eyes were eyes, and their sight is blind,
But their beauty is deaf, and theirs deaf.
Love’s golden age lies to my taste,
When it begins at the close of summer;
Love’s golden age lies to my taste,
When it begins at the close of winter;
Thy sweet breath is full of sour,
Love’s golden age lies to my taste,
When it begins at the close of summer:
Thy sweet breath is full of sour,
Love’s golden age lies to my taste,
When it begins at the close of winter:
Thy sweet breath is full of sour,
Love’s golden age lies to my taste,
When it begins at the close of summer:
Thy sweet breath is full of sour,
love’s golden age lies to my taste,
And their sweet breath is full of sour,
Love’s golden age lies to my taste,
And their sweet breath is full of sour,
When it begins at the close of winter:
Thy sweet breath is full of sour,
Love’s golden age lies to my taste,
And their sweet breath is full of sour,
Thy sweet breath is full of sour,
Love’s golden age lies to my taste,
And their sweet breath is full of sour,
The poor little boy that sleeps,
Lest a sad day should turn a happy night,
Then I was forced to make him laugh,
For I must to live in love again,
He would not have so bold a mind
To laugh in my bosom, and so die if I had him there.
So she will, though never with a breath her lips nor lips,
Under this stern shadow of his,
But let her tears not do her shame,
Or in this poor world, where weeping do fall,
Thy eyes, all their glory, their fame are set,
Who in this shadow, as they are not in thee,
Have none to complain of but this weak, poor, helpless,
And wretched slave, the poor sap of his morn,
Who by thy breath, all things in thee have done,
And by thy power, all the world’s objects have done.
What do I wish for thy part?
When I love thee, thou shalt live a tyrant,
And I shall live a tyrant, and I shall live
Like a fool, for whom thou livest not,
When I love thee, I shall live like a boar.
This, like a boar, he stops, and stops again
To kiss his sweet mistress; yet still he shakes his head,
And with a soft kiss says, ‘What is this?’
When it is gone, he stops again, and stops again again,
to kiss his sweet mistress; yet still he shakes his head,
And wails, ‘What is this?’
When it is gone, he stops again, and stops again,
To kiss his sweet mistress; yet still he shakes his head,
And wails, ‘What is this?’
When it is gone, he stops again, and stops again,
To kiss his sweet mistress; yet still he shakes his head,
And wails, ‘What is this?’
When it is gone, he stops again, and stops again,
To kiss his sweet mistress; yet still he shakes his head,
And wails, ‘What is this?’
when it is gone, he stops again, and stops again,
To kiss his sweet mistress; yet still he shakes his head,
And wails, ‘What is this?’
when it is gone, he stops again, and stops again,
To kiss his sweet mistress; yet still he shakes his head


======== CHECKPOINT 030 OUTPUT # 001 ========

Uber the light,
To make love bright with the dark,
Or sweet lusty eyes dark with the light,
With foul accents, but with sweet rhyme of vowels:
Or as if in a dream, one heart’s passion were slain,
Another’s lips to lips so sweet that their faces could sing:
But now, as though in a dream, all thoughts and all ears were mute,
Thy true heart’s love did win the day, and all the world’s foes dead.
A poor old fool, in a wretched bed,
Who, in a drowsy state, with his legs crossed,
Called attention to this poor child, but there could not be sight,
The poor thing did not attend; and presently
His lips, which he on either side were tied,
Made no sounds, but did murmur some inaudible word;
The poor man, appalled at this, did ask
Which he should borrow; as his lips it fell
To that tender instrument whose force it applied;
What dost thou then that didst lend the pen?
Or, being so blessed, shouldst in some measure owe
To this sad fate befall me.
‘Now what is the matter with me, that thou, a painter,
Cannot picture in one of these poor windows?
Why didst thou then, my dear painter, change thy mind?
‘For one thing,’ quoth he, ‘I know all the motives
Which persuade me to do this, I know none more,
But from one flower that hath my sweet care
The painter to my sweet love doth lend it.
O therefore I did in vain say,
That if this sweet flower of yours had been,
A mortal sin, this flower of yours
Was a mortal sin, and your mortal sin,
The painter is thy mortal sin, thy mortal sin’s grave.
So now he will not be, and he will not weep,
Though he may have gone so far as to prove it,
And that so he was, yet his tears would not break his oath.
‘And now my sweet lover, by my promise,
I will give thee the seal of my hope;
As soon as thou hast done, do it again,
Love’s seal is never broken, as I do swear.
For if I die that will not leave my seal,
Thy seal is ever lost, and never gives him back.
“My sweet lord,” quoth she, “my love’s life is ended,
To leave me and be my self a slave to decay.
So die thou wretch, my dear, and die in vain.
For to do this, thou wilt, my dear, bleed for thy love.
‘O, O! thou canst not say so, nor be afraid!
When thou wilt, wilt thou live to hear this wretched story?
For love’s eternal life I have taught thee,
That if thou wilt, love’s eternal life is over,
Then the world will swallow your love, and then thou wilt be gone,
Since he’s a beggar and beggar’s bed.
‘”Look how often my sweet, beloved, dear boy have come
To see your true self being blown away,
By an imaginary man, whose self you see is no more.
‘”O that thou art so ill, that I am so ill
With that I am told by many,
That I am a poor widow that you cannot kill,
that you have the advantage and the blame,
I am so sorry, and all the greater of mine,
And by this I shall be revenged of death.
‘But as the painter is gone, I do want to see him still
With what I saw of him, and what I saw of him with him.
‘”That is, a boy, but a little boy
That lives in his fair beauty, and in her fair complexion.
But what you see, be careful not to say so.
O, thou fool, what kind of a thing was this
That doth you see, and what doth you hear?
Why didst thou make them wetsuits, that so you might hide?
So should I that I should die, or live and be buried;
When all my might-be-killed self should live, I would die, and die like thee,
Because I thought thy life worth dying in.
So should I that I should live, and die like thee.
‘”That’s true, that’s true,” quoth she, “though there’s a devil,
And there’s a devil, and there’s a devil, and there’s a devil, and there’s a devil,
But there’s a devil, and there’s a devil, and there’s a devil,


======== CHECKPOINT 030 OUTPUT # 002 ========

medd’st thou the fairest thing,
If thou dost rob it from my fair head
And rob it from thee that gave it so
To steal in this fair world:
So shall not this unjust night be
Till he return again from Troy, and to live with me.
So shall my life, and my love’s, iniquity
Be lost from my heart, from my heart, my soul,
And I be dead to him.
‘Now this poor devil I should be,
With such a devil’s fair disposition
Who did not love, but that doted
With the devil’s fair disposition do love him.
No longer then can she say,
‘Now,’ quoth she, ‘we do not fear,
But thou dost, and I do fear thee;
And to thee this oath of mine:
‘This I will not forget; and for this,
I will not kill, nor let go of thee.
‘”But when thou sayest this, O boy, my heart
My heart will quake, but it will not cry.”
‘This,’ quoth she, ‘this oath of mine;
I will not kill, nor let go of thee.
Thou art the one, my love is the other;
So is the old rhyme so true:
For in thee I have writ the law,
And the one shall not break it,
Let the other kiss the sweet-tongued kiss;
For if he break this,
He shall not break, nor shall she break his neck;
And for thy sake shall thou steal my life,
And to do him injury, thou shalt have my death.
If thou live, I shall kill thee with my death.
Iniquity still iniquity to me,
For I hate thee, yet thou provest my hate,
So be thou my slave, and let me live.”
But then from a hill, she stops and looks
For fear of his sword, and then she stops again
She takes a deep breath and sings
She that to the hounds of Troy,
Is to him his mother’s eye, a queen of his love.
‘What an abomination!’ quoth she, ‘this is the hour
Of th’ idolaters’ disgrace,
For he was not king when I sought him!
Nor by him my eyes shall they see
An image that in his fair blood hath writ
The treason of our late lord.
Thou canst not swear that thou art not the cause
Of my death, nor of thy life’s death:
For I never sought to kiss him, nor had my eye
Which on the glass would betray my eyes,
Even so in his high chamber a heavy curtain
Thrifts the world’s curtain from forthward,
To blot the earth from sight, and to stain the earth.
My heart, therefore, is dead, and thy breast
Is alive, but thy breast is no more;
My heart is dead, my breast is no more;
And my heart hath no more to live on,
His heart hath no more to live on, his heart
Thou art my debtor, and thou art not my lord.
This, thus, did he tell his lie,
And now he again makes it seem
For his part: for to hear the story
Or for her to see his heart breaking,
She with all her might, and with every part
Shook her head to the back of her head,
And with one swift motion she doth bring
To one side her head, her lips kissing her lips;
And this she is wont to do, to kiss her heart;
And this she is wont to do, to kiss her heart,
So soft will the moan be, that the tears cease.
The world’s fair flower and the world’s white
Have been bred in mutual mistrust,
And in love have made each other their enemies.
‘Here she stood, she was in her bed,
Like a wail to the wind, which blows on his skin.
Then, lo, there was some old man in the way,
And sometime by, said to him, “Poor old man, come to me.”
“I’ll bring you back to me, and we’ll begin.”
A little while more she goes, and then he comes back,
That he might look her in the eye,
And give her some help for her sorrow,
For he that doth steal from his way
The treasure of his deeds;
And to her own help she shakes her head;
She starts again, and stops again
Because there she saw him still smiling,
And, in her confusion, she knows he was not here.
“This is not fair, my poor bird,” quoth she, “this is not fair;


======== CHECKPOINT 030 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Occupy the enemy, and the enemy himself become a foe: so he woos, ’twas fearfully the wolf, and the lamb becomes a friend of mine;
So he sits in the dark with his face unlaced,
Like a wolf and a lamb together,
Like two tigers of one, so the other bears
The stingful smell of a woman’s tears.
‘”So,” quoth he, “these poor creatures are not to be seen,
Or to be seen even to yourselves,
Unless you see them, you’ll find them.”
As he says this, he crosses his legs,
That, like a lion, their prey seemeth away,
And they in his eager pursuit dote on him,
But, like a lion, their prey do find
It by the strong pursuit; and so, beholding
The sun and moon which were their constant lights,
Whose golden hue blunted the bright sun
And their pale watercolour pale it hid.
‘That is,’ quoth she, ‘an invention of the morning;
‘It was the invention of a king,’ quoth he, ‘of which he was never king;
That he may be proud and proud, and yet not be so proud;
But he that shall live, shall live in glory of times gone
And in shame of shame of glory.
“How many of you did not see her yet,
And then she told you the story of your friend,
And told me how she, too late, should rise again;
And how, having died, she stood by, looking down
The roses that would never again thrive.
O now you must, for I am a stranger,
And I must be the one who speaks of you;
And my name shall stand the cause of all thy woes:
I am all your lord, all your sweet love,
And my sweet love thy poor slave shall live as thy owner.
‘Now the devil’s showmanship is made harder,
For men seem’st not to have eyes of a more gentle hue,
And women seem’st not to be so fair,
In a way not so kind, if at all, though in them
O show of love! Love’s fair queen is seen doting;
Like one doting mother and one doting son,
That as a dove doth daunt at the bait
Which dove in a nest she dived;
Diving for shallow-watering bait where no bait
Will be found, she darts and she drowns;
She dotes on the dead, the wounded, and dead-stung;
And death, in the form of a weed,
Is a weed, and death a weed.
How then the devil will kill a man’s wife,
And die the fairest man alive with the dower?
O, if you were this lovely guest,
I’d live still, and live with you all the rest.
This she did, and as she ran away,
She drew a knife from her breast, and, bending her head,
As he did so, with her knife it came out;
And as he did she did thrust his knife in her breast,
And that was the knife he did knife him,
To be a murd’rous murd’rous murd’rous offender;
She would not say that her lips were white,
Nor her hand nor her lips were smooth,
But as if she had the power to do so,
She began to kiss, and as she did kiss,
She moaned aloud, and began to weep.
This was her last moment of rest,
As one longed to die, but it did not be
A blessed moment; in it he fell, and in it he came.
‘”The morning will soon come, and the night shall not be:
To make my bed I’ll have thee stay,
And with thee shall stay my night.
The morning will soon come, and my night shall not be:
O, the day, that I spend with thee,
Shall be dull in all things, but dull in my heart.
But, as I have been told,
Time is to me more pleasant than sorrow;
My time more tedious than time,
And my time more pleasant than life’s more harsh.
That is, the greater part, I have spent,
And to my time I have sought, and yet not
My purpose was done, nor to mine purpose
As thou art with me, and I am gone;
So be it, thou wilt not find my purpose,
My purpose is spent with thee, and my purpose gone;
O therefore have I begun to make thee rest,
When that which thou hast spent in me is gone.
“What,” quoth she, “if any other form of sin
Can


======== CHECKPOINT 030 OUTPUT # 004 ========

uzzle to his ear,
“Come, let’s go to the closet,
But this shall be thy door, to see her weep,
The sad soul that is still dead,
Which for her woes is not aught but sorrow
That doth in her weep beguile.
Then what shall be done to me now?
I beg that you mightst know me,
And for that, you may be content to wait
That you might see me with those bright eyes
Which in his face gazed up into the night,
To see what would come next,
And then I must do something,
To make the heart bleed and to bleed for fear,
To make the tongue laugh so;
To make the eyeball move so much;
To make the tongue wail, so much greater;
And then all this will be done,
And then the wailing wails would seem so much better;
If it would be true, the tears would flow through
The world, that is all sorrow, to a better end.
‘”So the time will not seem long,
But the fair season to which we have come lies
At last.
O no! behold the flood-drenched earth
With streams of blood, that are not so white,
Whose foulness she thinks so to see,
For the foulest thing that is therein!
And lo, the earth with this foulness lies,
Whose foulness she perceives so to see;
And lo, the earth with this foulness lies,
That he who doth dally with the foulest things,
He doth dally, and dally he dally;
And lo, the earth doth pine the wood where he lives,
And pine the tree where he doth live;
And pine the trees where he lives,
But the tree of life, in his right hand
Doth dwell, with his wife’s blood in his right hand,
Which in his right hand doth dwell,
And in the left doth dwell.
‘Thus did he steal from her hand the boar,
Which, upon his head, is seiz’d,
And he doth hold it still, which doth chase it;
And when it doth have a chase,
it is his own hand, he doth take,
And his foot he doth take;
So his foot doth do so, his foot doth do so;
His horse doth give, his horse doth lend;
And she, who is all alone, seiz’d,
With the gout on her neck, by his side,
Her back against the ground is bent,
So he takes her neck, and he doth lay
The wound upon his neck, and he doth tie
His wound to my bosom, where he doth dwell:
So let my heart not say, ‘Ay, never’
That my heart, the most beloved of all,
Is for none more, than for thee, my self be my refuge.
‘O,’ quoth she, ‘you see I am dead!
No, my heart, no, your heart is dead;
No, your heart, your heart be dead;
Then where were the living, in thee stood
Of such an absence? how canst thou know,
My heart, thy heart be dead?
And what is this that thou hast done,
But death, which thou wast supposed to give,
Suffoc’d, and buried in decay?
And where hath thy death gone,
But to death in a tomb, buried with many dead?
Why have I never seen thy face
Thy true self but in my heart’s decease?
Why have I not seen his heart, his hand, his heart,
And thy heart’s white, thy heart’s green, thy heart’s blue,
When thou art a living, the one living,
And death the other to live and die?
And why are we still mute in this
The sad thought of such sorrow?
How many a weary eye can we see?
The poor lady in the river that she streams,
The poor child in the boar that he’ll be,
The young, and young to be young,
As the boar to the boar,
So to-day the old, the young, and young
The new to-morrow, the old to-morrow:
The old in his youth, his in-youngness,
And in-youngness his youth, and young in-youngness.
What can I say, O boy! what can I say,
Thy self’s worth, thy self’s worth
The better of all the rest, if thou wilt stand in thy place,
And that which is better still, let it be thy best


======== CHECKPOINT 030 OUTPUT # 005 ========

shouting with his hand,
And doth she think how she can’t help but to wail,
But to herself a coward doth lie,
With her tongue the worst of all her faults.
‘For shame that she did not break from me with her,
Nor was it lawful that she should be so doting
To slander me with her woes so late:
But in spite of all that she hath done,
Her sad tears have been more dazzling.
‘If I may kiss my sweet son, or my true wife,
How much more, my dear, for love’s sake can you kiss?
Then is it so simple that a mortal mind doth think,
That you in me cannot say ’tis so’.
But in you I love my true, and so love you in me.
And then with his fair and pure breast he shakes his chin,
So he may bear my fair name but in him
Some mortal stain, some mortal offence.
No more then shall you in me, do I live,
And so do I in thee, till at last I die,
By this sometime-slaughtering plague, which so many a man
Shames his fair, but in thy fair self lives,
Which he must live, and so shall he live,
Even so the old-timbered grove that he grazed
Would be extinct there, and for it no more were written;
Or else he had his fair self to give her account.
O none, if I die, what sorrow shall I in this?
Why shouldst thou weep for me, and be thou too much afflicted?
Thou art the worst; and thus shall my sorrow be,
From which thou hast set my sorrow down to die,
And now thou shalt live to give my rest away,
And now to take up the old and the new.
‘”The earth hath brought forth many fishes, but none of them hath seen;
What shall they eat, when in their turn shall they grow?
What flower will they see when they hear it,
When the wind blows it in their direction?
And what weed will they see when they have no weed?
“Where did thy heart get? where did thy soul find it?
Why dost thou art that doth seek me?
Who is this that seeks thee, that thou mayst die?
And who is this that seeks thee, that thou mayst live?
If all, why dost thou make it mine,
Since all my part hath to die, that is me?
And why is it that so many a poor heart
Seems to have a part in this wretched plight?
Yet it is thine that is forced to this act,
Because some say thou have heard me tell it:
She cries, “She cries! she cries,” and so she wails:
As if to put a tear in her eyes, she starts,
To say, “Thou weep’st me, sweetie.”
Or at the same time, “But I cannot touch thee yet,”
When, mad from fright, she falls back,
As if to have been touched, she would break in his arms,
When he would swear that he was her friend;
If he did swear this to himself, the deed would be remembered,
And all his self-love in one breath would swear
To be that which he sought, and so do he live.
‘And what more can this wish, than the love that thou lov’st,
For in thy love so much lies in me,
How couldst thou give me what I did not get?
What more can this love, what more can I get,
But in thee that thy love doth give me my love?
But in me thy love doth give me not what dost thou give,
And when in thy love thy love dost thou give,
Thy self doth lend me that I did borrow,
That I may lend thee still more, but if thou lend,
Thy self doth not lend me that I have,
And yet if in my love, it is mine that doth lend thee,
My self doth lend thee still more, and still thou dost lend me more.
“Hush, my darling, with a breath of loving breath,
That you may breath thy tender self a little more;
And not too deep a deep sigh, so deep a sigh!
This is my love, and I will do it to thee,
Like a true and loving father, who gives their son
A gentle kiss to kiss his wound,
And as he woos the thing he did kiss,
So his father doth praise him, and Adonis,
And Collatine with her, and Tarquin with his men.
That when the time


======== CHECKPOINT 031 OUTPUT # 001 ========

Aj, like him he did swear,
But that they should have kept their vows,
He will make them his slaves.
O, what a poor slave did Adonis have,
He would make his bed for him by labouring;
And if you are such a slave of fate,
And do not yet have a right to see him suffer,
Give it your blessing, and you should live,
Then would I to your desire live, and live you to be.
In this he tells the tale of a ditty,
In which he tells an antique tale,
Which, by this time, as a nun with the hot,
Hath spent their youth and youth’s youth spent:
So is the night time, and day time, and night time,
With two unkind, impious deaths:
Who, in this ill, so cruel, so merciless,
Sets his rage in extremes, that nothing but death shall dare:
This sad, tragic rage that in his name
Hath done and done is born again:
If it be not, let me not say it thus.
Thus he tells what he will, in his own deed:
His eyes the gaudy brinish stars he had bred,
And the white bristly he had lent,
And the deep black that was his coat so rich,
As with all his life he lived on the earth.
And this he did, and all at once
The knife his hand had made swift,
And as he did it in a motionless rage
The blood which had swelled on the ground,
Came forth from his lips like the inundation:
Yet this was not death, this was life,
And death, as water doth come, shall not be slain.
She that thinks she can make that thought clear,
To swear that I never did kill thee,
She that thinks thou canst, yet shall never slay me.
No more I’ll bear him that hath made him hate me,
Nor shall he that he hath brought me for that false kiss,
Unless that false kiss be so much as thee,
That every part of my body doth bear that name.
But as they kiss, so often a tear from my eye
Hath flowed, and when it came again there,
Her face was like a flower, and her eyes like a bud.
I love you so, and you so, and thou such a thing
As a flower, thy fair queen hath taught me
To love thee with sweet heart, and with loving lips,
And by thee to me thou lov’st.
‘And with that he takes on the brawny horse,
With more cunning than they in my horse,
Showing their hard hand in the saddle,
And harder heart in my breast’s saddle,
That the proud world by the horse did hold,
Had none to do with him, and many none to see,
But I the father that in thee dost have done,
To the proud world dost hold this poor horse in thy debt.
And from thee the fool that did so much harm
For this goodly life of mine was born:
Yet I the father that in thee dost doth do,
To the proud world dost hold this poor horse in thy debt.
‘Thou art my muse, my muse, my muse’s muse,
My muse hath drawn from me all the strength
of all the world that ever saw thee
And doth to this day to tell the world how I did hide:
Who by thy art was thy fair queen slain,
And this world’s fair queen doth prove thee,
As beauty doth doth not die in this world.
And now, through the veil of secrecy,
The world doth behold in thy bosom
A woman’s tears in her eye, whose wound is still greater;
She looks with a fearful terror upon his visage;
She hears him utter the words, “Began I lie”,
And then she starts again, “Look, O boy!
Look how I am twisted with this knife,
A man’s knife, and a woman’s knife;
Now if you may please me, my knife shall stop me;
And thou shalt not hurt me till thou see a knife do
Kill me as a fool; if that knife have thee in me,
Thy hand shall kill me as thou slayst me with it.”
“Look where I am! my hand is strong; my right hand weak;
My left hand strong, and mine eyes weak;
Their mouths, their lips weak; their sides, their lips weak;
Their faces, their face weak; their eyes weak; their joints weak;
Their blood is strong, and yet it is weak,
And yet it is strong, and yet it is weak,


======== CHECKPOINT 031 OUTPUT # 002 ========

educated on them, that they may boast of thee,
Who live a glorious age: so be it,
that when they do say,
I have had enough, and done with some.
In thee are you made, a living god,
With the life of your souls in me
And your flesh in me for evermore.
To me, thou art my dear and my self,
And to me, thou art my love and my self,
But now I live by thine own blood.
‘”O! what a dreadful world! How canst thou be in
The ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, thou gilded, and the heart of the ocean
Wherefore hast thou done thy self my self so much wrong?
Wherefore hast thou done the same of thy self?
O, what a dreadful world! How canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! How canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! How canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that doth thaw thy bones?
O, what a dreadful world! how canst thou be
In the ocean, that d


======== CHECKPOINT 031 OUTPUT # 003 ========

bernatorial will that be the thing for whom his will can be expressed,
That is to say, to make him my slave,
Whereas his will to me can be expressed in words.
No love, but truth, being fair,
I will have no argument with you or your friend;
Thou must be my slave, to my will my will be.
Let it not be, that I have not this purpose;
To persuade thee that this will is not so;
For when I have begun, let not my tongue say
That I am no longer there;
But when thou see’st thou art come to betray me,
By my will, and thou willst be my prey.
For he did see the lusty dove that he doth trot;
And as they were hanging on, he drew his spear,
And for a blow, both sexes doth swear
That they would kill each other, but in either’s fight.
He that would kill, being coy, let him kill again;
For he that would slay, being coy, let him slay again.
Then he that kills, being coy, let him slay again.
This, being so, he, being so, lets them all in their haste:
One by one they chase after each other,
And that pursuit so long as they do not make it their pursuit,
Their eyes on him do dart his course;
Their lips on him do kiss his brow;
Their lips on him do kiss his cheeks;
Their lips on him do kiss his hair;
And as they kiss on each other, they do as if on oath;
And all these their eyes on him do frown;
His lips on her do fold and fold again,
And with those twofold fold he lies,
And with each fold their mouths to wide gulf meet,
That in him they speak thus:
O! this he saith, this he is said to do,
And in his large body is made his seat.
Then how is he toil all night in his dark bed,
For with his waste the poor wretched thing doth find,
With such a thing being done, yet not found,
Haply he creeps all over the place.
I did this by nature, and by the hand of man;
And now the best thing in this world is gone,
From me my honour, my fame, my wealth,
To your fair lips, your love affairs, your dear things
Who in all these things are all mine,
And you in them all belong to me.
‘Why dost thou put me in thy power,
And in thy influence make me a tyrant?
When thou art strong, when thou art strong, when thou art powerful,
Who is it that I do wrong by my deeds?
When it is weak, it harms me much more:
Why is it not my self to defend thee?
When it is strong, thou shalt win, but when thou win
Lies on me, my life is wasted,
The earth that keeps thee is chaste, the earth that keeps thee poor:
The poor creatures that live by thy deeds die;
The strong, those that live by thee die.
He begins, and, being done with him,
Strikes, and strikes again at the door,
And that door will open wide his eyes to view.
‘O! what a waste of earth, for it doth it contain!
What dost thou waste, what waste dost thou waste!
I’ll spend it in my mind’s interest,
Or in my lust’s interest, in my lust’s lust’s desire;
Or in my lust’s lust’s desire, in my lust’s lust’s desire;
But now in vain do I desire,
For now, now, in vain will I desire,
Even then thou shalt see this waste, this waste of thy heart.
Yet this I shall strive with love, with love alone;
If I cannot achieve my desire,
If love cannot have, I shall not live,
My will, which makes my love live, shall live but in spite.
‘”But why hast thou forsook the way
To the mountain tops to mount your horse,
When it shall seem as if the world were asleep,
And all your strength on the earth with you,
For you all in one thing, being one,
Make haste, do not linger, do not rest,
And look on the dark day and not on the bright night:
When thou art all one, when thou all, all being,
If thou all be one, then thou mayst see me still.
thou mayst have seen me then; why shouldst thou not have seen me?
For thou didst then come by land and take up
An ill-timed ride, whereon she did


======== CHECKPOINT 031 OUTPUT # 004 ========

ettery, he hath taught the way,
To preach the way by his deeds’ course;
Which by that work he can render more perfect.
“Poor thing,” quoth he, “you had me as a slave,
To whom I owe my livelihood and your honour;
And you as slaves to your wills must,
Make that servile servile servile to me:
Whose part my life is but to show
Than my self, and that I thy beauty,
To show in what you are, what you are.
‘But now I thought you poor; now I thought you worthy:
Now I mournful: now I weep for thee.
If thou wilt say so, I will tell thee
Thy life was wasted, and my life was stolen;
So was thy life and mine.”
“What can I say but that thou hast the strength
Of such a verse as mine,
To sing them that cannot express thee?
Why should my love of thee have the loss,
To say so, to say so much of mine own,
To tell me how it was? how it was made
In thy beauty, my love and mine;
In thy love’s, my love’s, mine, mine, theirs:
If ever they were in doubt, never to be found;
But never, love ever, to die and be saved,
With death in love and death in death.
Thus with my verse do I make love more
To all whom I think of thee, than I have with thee.
And, though he be gone, I will still go,
And never to live with him again.”
“Well, then,” quoth she, “your story of mine will be
Lest I not have seen it, you say.
‘Twixt them he meets with the blunt spear,
Whose sharp and ugly head he doth slay,
And their black arms and white hands he doth hang;
For he hath sworn that thou hast sworn
To kill my life, thy life’s end, thy life’s end.
Whose life will live in death, thy life’s end in me.
Thy body is the life of decay;
My body, mine own, was born dead,
The death-eating breath of decay’s death;
In my body’s wake, though death remain,
My life, my life, thou must live.”
Then in a brook by a rose-bed
Sleeping upon the sap, she hath begun to bathe,
And doth begin again to sing,
When he himself, the living, says, “You have not a god,
Let them make their wills in me;
Let the one make their wills in thee;
let the other make theirs in me.”
When she concludes, she begins, by a loud clamour,
With a sighing mournful noise,
That it shall never suffice, that he himself die,
for he hath no god to die for his parts:
Whence should he, if he should come, wert thou slain?
Thou shalt not take his life, and if thou wilt be slain,
Thou willst bear the man that took my life;
The woman that did take mine, and that bear the man that did give me:
Or in the case of mine, my worth exceeds his,
In the case of mine his, mine is greater than hers,
That hath the sum of their parts,
That are but a little, like thy self in me.
‘”My lord, what did he say? ‘My lord, what did he say?’
I did answer: ‘My lord, thou art my slave,
And my poor slave, to thy death I will live,
But with a life, and an end so short,
That if thou live, die by thy self.’
If thou live, thou canst not live another’s life,
Or one in another’s mind be bound,
That each to one die by their own will,
Or their wills being as their wills were before:
And thou hast nothing to lose, but all to gain;
You have all my soul and all my will,
And I thee, all my soul and all my will,
What treasure canst thou drop in a sea of blood?
But now that thy treasure is such a part,
Till at last thou in me die, the treasure is gone,
Wherefore if thou have no treasure, it cannot be,
If thou have treasure in my will,
The treasure cannot be thine, if thou have no will.
‘O therefore,’ quoth she, ‘if thou wilt take away my will,
Thou art thy self, and I myself am thee;
And this will, for my self shalt thou do;
When thou


======== CHECKPOINT 031 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Gims, thou shalt be the one.
“Gentlemen, it is but one,” quoth she, “and to thee more.”
“A pleasure to thee,” quoth he;
And from the golden leaf she turns,
Which she on with some pale hand doth place;
She hurls her glass at the crystal;
Then exclaiming, she throws it to the air,
That it would fly and fly,
To die and die and die.
The sound of that motion I behold,
My heart shall tremble, my lips shall tremble,
And as I lean I will be moved,
And as I groan, my heart will cheer;
As they cry this, these birds, like gentle birds,
Whose voices are still, with thine ear I cry,
Thine eye my ear my heart my heart drowns;
And now for love’s sake I plead for thee:
So is it, sweet Adonis, that so many
As Lucrece to thee so fond,
And so am I now, I do thy cause;
Then be it to mine own worth, thou art my friend;
For thou hast done me the honour of so much,
I do more, and more do than ever.
O where’s thy love, my sweet? for my love hath so well begun
For love made love, in me so many lives
Made the love make him hate, and the love made him hate;
But my love’s love, his love’s love, his love,
Hath been, and will be: this is my desire,
O me, my self, with mine own self shall live:
My self is the author of all these woes.
“O wherefore,” quoth he, “why are you thus afraid?
For my sake,” quoth she, “if thou art dead,
This life, which thou shalt cherish,
Will never be wasted, and thou art my self,
And thou art my self a part of death.
Look how much worse I am than she,
O then I do not have a reason
To love you so, though I know thy nature.
Yet from the night my soul is gone,
It will be well to have thee in this grave,
And you, with thy beauty, will have me still in your grave.
‘”How often I behold a child’s hand;
And that child’s hand is so pale it shall stay;
Even so when you are with me, that thou shalt see it,
Even so when you are with me, I cannot help but wonder,
Whereon I did love, but where you did not love.
That’s true; I am not a child of such evil,
That they would wish their mistress to leave them,
Or at least not think of this love when they look,
In their tears or frowns, or sighs of hate,
Whereon we all have that eye of men that is lost,
Which makes our heart ache with sorrow,
When in the night we all hate the morning,
Nor in the day we all love the day,
Nor in the year we all hate the year.
Thou art what we call our son, that our hearts so love
Thy eyes do love thee, that thou shouldst do them wrong;
Yet my heart’s love, which thou lov’st to hate,
Is thine, and thou shalt find another,
A man, who shall steal thy name from me,
Who knows my nature by my deed,
And why I have dabbled in thy deed.
‘O pardon me if I are blest in your eyes;
O pardon me if thou be blest in all my days;
O pardon me if thou art blest in life’s days.
Be thou that in thy sorrow my eyes may see,
Thy cheeks and lips my heart might kiss;
Thy cheeks, my lips, my heart’s heart, were like two
Bonded up in a knot; and so broke, that
Her lips did hold her up,
Like unto the batt’ry she had spent:
And thus in her arms the batt’ry was tied,
Her face so white as blood can wash.
‘Poor girl,’ quoth she, ‘how shall I leave thee
If my poor friend with all thy woes leave me?
But I will not leave him, for my love will be revenged.
The time is not so great in thy favour that I must spend,
As thou hast left me, with mine will thy love will lend;
Let thy love be thy loyal object.
‘Why, then, do my tears water my tears?
‘O,’ quoth she, ‘if my tears have water, they should run more;
But why? why


======== CHECKPOINT 032 OUTPUT # 001 ========

8 to my head,
And when thou shalt behold it, I’ll tell thee.
But thou wilt be the one to love and cherish,
And bestow on thy soul that which thou mightst be,
Whilst I in your face are living.
O do not fear my verse, but bear
The oath I swear that thou art my friend.
This was the end I found,
The day came that my soul must be sealed
From all hell by the control of death.
“To-morrow be a busy and bloody day,” quoth she;
“I must go, and see a nun;
To-morrow I should swear that I am thy friend,
And, as an earthly lord, should never take
The sword from heaven.”
“That false thing did she think I could swear,
So, if he did, I would swear, he would take
The knife away.”
“So he would,” quoth she, “but if he did take the knife,
He would swear, he would take the knife away;
If he did take the knife away, then that which he took
He would swear, as much as he took in me.
She shakes his hand, and whispers, “My love,”
To her ear a churlish moan sounds,
His lips lips his ears, and her heart’s heart,
And so the churlish moan of their lips begins:
“O that I do, it should not come near!
Even as a serpent in the water,
To put his prey to flight would never have put him;
But a serpent with wings, with wings,
Would slay him and leave his prey dead.”
Yet love, thou dost believe, did so,
That thou mightst do it with me, not with my tongue.
“If the wind, which bloweth from the sky,
Like the whirlwind that blows through a furnace,
Burneth like a rose, and doth burn like a rose:
Thy breath doth breath again, the flame in it,
Loses, and so doth it burn again.
O then thou art my friend, my friend, my friend, my friend,
But in the present I do swear that thou art dead.”
‘But thou art not,’ quoth he, ‘My love, my friend, my friend:
And thus I say, ‘But in the present I do swear that I am dead.’
‘In the present I do swear that I am dead,’ quoth he, ‘
‘And now, that it may seem, my false heart may prove,
That it still may be a true friend:
And then my false heart may seem to you a true friend,
As a false friend, when the same,
Both on the contrary still shall stand to weep.’
Then I shall see the golden light shine from above,
And every part doth in the golden glow,
Like a rose, and doth in the golden glow shine:
Yet the rose doth not glow in my place,
For my love doth in mine, and thy love doth in mine,
For my love doth in mine, and thy love doth in mine,
And every part doth in the golden glow doth glow,
Like a rose, and doth in the golden glow doth shine:
But the rose doth not glow in my place,
For my love doth in mine, and thy love doth in mine,
And every part doth in the golden glow doth glow:
But the rose doth not glow in my place,
For my love doth in mine, and thy love doth in mine,
And every part doth in the golden glow doth glow:
But the rose doth not glow in my place,
For my love doth in mine, and thy love doth in mine,
And every part doth in the golden glow doth glow:
Yet the rose doth not glow in my place,
For my love doth in mine, and thy love doth in mine,
And every part doth in the golden glow doth glow:
Yet the rose doth not glow in my place,
For my love doth in mine, and thy love doth in mine,
And every part doth in the golden glow doth glow:
Yet the rose doth not glow in my place,
For my love doth in mine, and thy love doth in mine,
And every part doth in the golden glow doth glow:
Yet the rose doth not glow in my place,
For my love doth in mine, and thy love doth in mine,
And every part doth in the golden glow doth glow:
Yet the rose doth not glow in my place,
For my


======== CHECKPOINT 032 OUTPUT # 002 ========

driver’s sight,
But by the giddy wind she breaks the latch.
So my maid’s tongue wails when she hears the wail,
And I her mother’s tongue when she hears my wife sigh:
Her wailing leaves the bed, and leaves the poor poor wretch,
And poor wretch’s foul lips, that did for my love.
‘”O maid, what a sweet mistress
Who can say no good to my dear wife?
Till we have, or no such day,
A glass in the back of her hand,
And with it hold the latch to my bed:
No love, of no true love can survive,
Nor shall it survive for one that loves me.”
She stops him by the shoulder, her lips pursed.
‘O no! thou wilt leave me this,
For it shall come to thy mind, to show thy self;
For if it, thou shalt find, my self thou art.
Then do not fear my self, since thou wast a true friend,
Since I love thee, and I have a true friend,
I must never tell a lie or lie to a friend,
I love thee in spite of thy lies,
And when thou art all alone, yet still thou shalt find;
If he lie, yet he steal’st all,
If he steal’st all, yet he giveth all.
‘My lord, you are all so much more than I am;
Who, seeing you in him in scorn,
As if in his pride, were in rage,
Had, with a semblance of fear, as if in delight,
Doth show thy worth by thy deeds in me.
His face, in some kind of gross confusion,
The sharpest blade in the world is struck down,
And, on his back, a great white dove;
The sharpest blade in the world is struck down,
And, on his back, a great white dove;
‘Thus are my offences to the time being spent;
I will then be revenged upon him for his trespass.’
In his sorrow, like a dove,
He throws the dove in the air; and now she turns
To make him her excuse, with more fear:
‘Let my love beware,’ quoth he, ‘but if I dare, she shall break;
Her lust will in a moment be revenged on me.
The boar that doth trot down the stream,
The lark that boar’s nesteth in the bushes,
The dove that boar’s nesteth in the meadows,
The boar that doth trot down the stream, the lark that boar’s nesteth in the meadows,
Or at all events, she hath the right.
‘And now,’ quoth she, ‘perhaps my self will be slain,
Thine own self I would make the wretch’
To tie himself in knots in his chain;
For he was his self, his self alone,
Yet not in self I will tie myself in,
And in self I will tie myself in another.’
Thus says she in a low, stupendous voice:—
“My self, my self,” quoth she, “is in my self,
Nor in my self I am alive:
Yet as for myself, in my self, I am dead,
Yet as for others, in their self, they are alive,
In their self, they are dead; yet as for myself,
In my self, I am alive, in their self,
And in their self, I am alive, in their self.”
‘So may I say to thee in one word,
Since you have taught me to love more, more well,
Than to love you less, less well:
I love you more because of you, and more of you,
Than you due to me, more well:
But the sooner, the more ill I am;
But in the meantime, the more ill I am;
The sooner, the more ill I am.
‘For when, O love of my self, thou art the thief,
Or a swine in the stream,
Or a lion in the meadow,
Or a swine in the stream,
Or a lion in the meadow,
Or a swine in the meadow,
Or a swine in the meadow,
Or a lion in the meadow,
Or a swine in the meadow,
Or a swine in the meadow,
Or a swine in the meadow,
Or a swine in the meadow,
Or a swine in the meadow,
Or a swine in the meadow,
Or a swine in the meadow,
Or a swine in the me


======== CHECKPOINT 032 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Neill’s death was delayed for the sake of a young friend:
‘Twixt us we have some fond hope of that which now lies
Sometime in your memory will find a more glorious state:
This I fear the most, that even now I know
Thy youth, as old as thy days, is old’st still in want of words:
O, how often a friend when I meet him woos,
And calls to mind the sad face which greets him;
‘Grief!’ quoth he, ’tis my fault!
Thou canst not live in shame, nor in me alive!
‘Then what shame,’ quoth he, ‘canst thou live in fear?
A thousand woes, but nothing sweet,
So let a thousand happy thoughts drown the world in sorrow.’
‘I love you, you alone are my love,’ quoth she.
But then what love cannot do, what good cannot do
Is nothing but hatred and grief, and is not enough;
For in me that is so much hated is so much love;
Thy worth shall live, and not thy worth will die.
She answers him, ‘I will, and then I will be gone.’
His face, pale and trembling, she takes from him;
Her eye, on his face, she tears;
And to his grief the painter’s glove she doth extend:
The painter’s glove, which the painter’s love so lov’d,
In spite of all the cold, doth hold forth still,
As if a wind were to blow from the mountain;
The painter’s glove, the wind’s tempest which blows it,
That hot to heat doth seem more hot in this winter.
And thus she proceeds to her maid, in tears;
She answers, ‘I love you, thou alone art my love;
If you could not love me, and would not give me more,
Thy true self, thou dost make my life.
“What a waste it would be!” quoth she; “if thou wouldst not wither,
A thousand tears shalt cover thy face, and thy breath be dry.”
‘So he will leave her, and she will not stay:
She will not stay with him, he will stay with her,
Her own death, and all eternity,
With this she goes: “Poor coward! die, then be of my love;
If it did survive this death of mine,
And if it have not died, what shall I say?
‘O! this shall never be, and nothing but words will live;
For there is no man with the mind and the heart,
To ever talk to me, I can see no reason why,
Yet, for thy sake, I may say, ‘this’ again.”
“But tell me, my dear boy,” quoth she, “how long shall I be dead?”
What is it, thou ask’st, that shouldst kill thee?
If not, then I am thou, thy dear one;
For by thy part hast I been poisoned,
Like a maund-black from one of thy fair flowers.
‘Thus is she entombed; ’tis as though an old-sack’d mourner had
Wrapp’d the child to her lips, and put her face in the morn;
Her breath, it is sworn, did bring her life
And brought to her her lips that blood so red.
But I know that thou shalt not live to see it,
And that thou wast my living, I am dead,
To make thee mine; thou art my self my self.
The thought of this, my self did take thee away:
She did not leave him, but fell away again:
Then do I not weep, nor do I cry,
The more for sympathy that thou art thy neighbour;
Thou art my dear friend, and thy self my self.
This she did break and tear, that she may no longer speak;
Like a mute beggar with no breath,
Swelling on himself in his own vomit,
His self-love’s foul-fac’d muse,
Doth to this vile thing weep, and cry out: ‘O, what shame!’
When she hath done so, yet in thy self
Her weeping tear drops from a burning wound;
Such dreadful sights do seem to dwell on thy soul;
In his grief’s heavy hand her tears are refrid’d,
Her tears with their red blush are purg’d,
His tears redoubled, his tears white.’
‘”O, that thy love should burn the earth so unjust!
Thou must never forget the hour of thy love’s coming:
O, that the earth should burn as thy love burns the day:
O, that thou wast his wife and thy lover’s


======== CHECKPOINT 032 OUTPUT # 004 ========

subsidized so quickly it is doubtful of what true or true.
So long as thou wilt have the will of my Will,
All this will shall stay, and I not have to stay,
Unless thou wilt do all these deeds in me again.
Then will I be dead, and not be seen again.
For why shouldst thou then die, in such haste?
Thou art old, and thou art young,
For you must be young to live and die for me,
And yet death doth not make me youth’s lure,
Thy eye’s edge with the sun doth tempt thine eye,
And I, too, my eye’s foil tempts thine eye;
And now thine eye doth tempt mine eye,
And I, too, my eye doth tempt thy eye,
And that the day that thou shalt see my sweet face,
Is soon lost, and thou shalt not see the day.
Yet from the burning torch whereon she stood,
O behold that bright light, bright as a sun!
In her bright-white hand lay Lucrece,
And in her red hand sat Lucrece,
And in her pale hand sat Adonis:
A pair of white-locked glasses were to Adonis’ eyes;
They had not yet figured her beauty in,
But from the white sheet Adonis drew
The deep-bonded maiden on her side stood.
She looks on his face, as if he were her husband,
Her face doth confound his mind,
And yet he sees her face, as if from some deep-bonded hell.
O, dear dear dear, I did not know what a love-suit was,
But from my eyes I see a pure-bearded babe;
He is crowned and high, and is buried where he is.
His hair, in many a pomp, doth stay
For she doth weep with him on the ground;
And now he doth make her cry, ‘O my love, this time of night
Is more welcome now, and so shalt thou live.’
‘Therefore in my heart I beseech thee this,
And all thy soul’s work in mine, so be it,
That my life shall live, my soul’s work may live,
And yet life’s work in me may live.
For love, love, thou lov’st, is a bastard,
Who dares betray thy soul’s life by thine eye,
O be of good cheer, for thine eye thy grace be.
O, no, no, no, no! no!
Thou art thy fault, O! my fault, thou art my fault,
And all my love’s fault, O! my love’s fault, O! my love’s fault!
O, no! no! my fault, not my love!
Then love, by my grace be saved!
‘O, how dare I lie!
But as she walks, in fear, her eyes look on me,
And all their affections doth shake her hand;
Like a sad-beguiling angel, whose sweet voice doth greet her,
She sits by him and shakes his hand;
And Adonis’ breath smells like a heavy misty night;
For when in fear she shakes him again she sighs,
Like a swine that weighs upon her own breast.
“O love, this wretched devil, when he finds you,
How much more dread the sight of him!
And yet more fear than ever doth dwell on him!
“But this I have to say: Adonis, why weep?
Why do you mourn for my life, for my son’s sake?
For this I’ll say, my love, thy love is dead:
Thou willst not see the day till he sleeps again,
And thou canst not weep, for no man can weep
Until thou wilt kiss him again, for he will not.
And yet not long have I felt thee to know,
Or even to know your grief, till now,
Like a deep-bonded maiden doth weep with him:
“My love!” quoth she, “this was the night,
The ill that would have him in it,
The wanton doom that would make him stay.
“For what love’s sake,” quoth she, “this devil was mine,
And I must have him, and not thee,
So thou shalt have him, and not me.”
“That should be the night’s theme;
That should be the day’s theme;
And then the day would begin,
And then the night would begin.
And then I am dead, and thou my sweet will,
And thou thy very will, and I thy very will,
And


======== CHECKPOINT 032 OUTPUT # 005 ========

inappropriately.
‘Therefore it is with all thy grace and grace’s fair grace
That I think in thee I am thy son:
Thy art the father of thy shame, and thy son of thy shame;
But as thou livest, so mine is not:
Thy art my friend, my friend is not mine;
My friend is not mine, but thine:
Thou art my friend, thy friend is not mine.
‘Then are they in the gate that leads to the fair,
The gate that leads to the fair where thou dost stay;
To the fair where thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
The gate where thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
The gate where thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
The gate where thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Where thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Where thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Where thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst thou dost stay, thou dost stay;
Whilst


======== CHECKPOINT 033 OUTPUT # 001 ========

rec to her eyes with her tongue;
She did not say, but did hold her tongue,
To give her a kiss on the lips;
She did hold his tongue again, and when she had begun,
Called it hers, and so did she kiss it.
‘”This is true,” quoth he, “though I say this,
Mine eye sees not beauty,
Nor beauty’s shadow nor beauty’s lust:
So may I this day love thee.
And I to your gracious aid do vow I see thee,
Or else they will not see my true self,
Nor mine own beauty’s shadow, nor mine own lust,
No more for you to kiss me.
Now this strange thought to me,
By chance came from the direction of Lucrece’ eyes
She is a slave to men and is deaf to their sound.
As soon as she sees thee,
She turns away, and calls on my voice:
She sings some hymns in her breast;
And in the morning all these mourners sing
‘Tis not time that gives me grief,
But the hour when my soul ‘gan drown’d.
Then ’tis time that hears me call again
A time which I do vow to cherish,
And then when the hour is done, I should break,
And kiss thee again, for I have but one dream.
My soul, if it be dead, shall die by my side,
O no, I have sworn in the oaths
Of my love that thou shalt love, and thou shalt know,
That I thou art thy friend in all this;
Then shall this promise be, and no less,
The love that hath my heart as a prize.
‘And for this, Collatine doth ask
What thou hast in store for me,
What thou hast in store for me in your eyes,
Which is thy true love, that so many of thee crave?
‘Tis but if thou have my heart, that my heart shall live,
And to the world my true self, that thine self to whom I bring.
‘Yet I love my body, and my soul my part,
And nothing else is in my soul but that which thou lov’st.
‘Tis well to be blunt and cold;
She in her pride shows off her own sharpness,
And she in her pride is contented.
‘Thy true love is both sweet and true,
As well as well as well as well as well.
‘But let me say that thou wilt not lie;
For that my dear wife did give me,
That she may say, ‘O love, why dost thou leave me?’
No, thou art no love at all;
If I am, then let him deceive me,
That he may know I am not love.
‘If he do,’ quoth he, ‘perhaps I have some advantage here;
And it shall be so, if thou wilt lend me this help,
To teach thee a lesson how to be fair,
And how to govern him in love.
‘For if thou wilt,’ quoth she,’my life shall not last,
The life of love shall last;
But life shall not last for love to die,
My life in death doth not last,
And no more life doth live for my life to die.
‘When I had the sword, he had not the spear,
And he was with her with him.
‘”No! thou art so, but I am,” quoth he;
“I’ll be the one to slay thee tomorrow;
And for that, I’ll bow out in self-defence,
For if thou wilt make me, then will I be slain tomorrow.
O that I had that knife, the knife should never shoot,
Which in his power is to strike,
Even now and then, on that knife,
His voice is hollow, and in him it no delight,
But when his voice calls him to halt,
And calls him to return, the knife will not kill him.
So I have but one wound to repay
All those that were lost, and that is me:
For my life and that of my love.
Yet that, like a drunken maiden,
She turns and walks out the door,
To show the guilty eye that all this evil.
What a shame it is!—The poor little boy!
The father’s daughter, to keep the world from seeing!
The wife’s son, to keep the world from seeing!
O do not weep, as thou dost in sorrow,
For no love can bear the pain that is come!
As much as I can bear it, and never seem to change,
What can I say, or do?


======== CHECKPOINT 033 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Super
The sun being full of fire,
Nor light to thy bare cheek,
Nor light to thy bare chin,
Nor light to thy bare face,
Nor light to thy bare tongue,
Nor light to thy bare ear,
Nor light to thy bare chin,
Nor light to thy bare tongue,
Nor light to thy bare tongue,
Nor light to thy bare tongue,
Nor light to thy bare tongue,
Nor light to thy bare tongue,
Nor light to thy bare chin,
Nor light to thy bare chin,
Nor light to thy bare chin,
Nor light to thy bare tongue,
Nor light to thy bare tongue,
Nor light to thy bare chin,
Nor light to thy bare tongue,
Nor light to thy bare chin,
Nor light to thy bare tongue,
Nor light to thy bare chin,
Nor light to thy bare tongue,
Nor light to thy bare tongue,
Nor light to thy bare chin,
Nor light to thy bare chin,
Nor light to thy bare tongue,
Nor light to thy bare tongue,
Nor light to thy bare tongue,
Nor light to thy bare chin,
Nor light to thy bare tongue,
Nor light to thy bare chin,
Nor light to thy bare chin,
Nor light to thy bare chin,
Nor light to thy bare tongue,
Nor light to thy bare tongue,
Nor light to thy bare chin,
Nor light to thy bare chin,
Nor light to thy bare chin,
Nor light to thy bare tongue,
Nor light to thy bare tongue,
Nor light to thy bare tongue,
Nor light to thy bare chin,
Nor light to thy bare tongue,
Nor light to thy bare tongue,
Nor light to thy bare chin,
Nor light to thy bare chin,
Nor light to thy bare chin,
Nor light to thy bare tongue,
Nor light to thy bare tongue,
Nor light to thy bare chin,
Nor light to thy bare chin,
Nor light to thy bare tongue,
Nor light to thy bare chin,
Nor light to thy bare chin,
Nor light to thy bare tongue,
Nor light to thy bare chin,
Nor light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare tongue,
Or light to thy bare tongue,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare tongue,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare tongue,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare tongue,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare tongue,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare tongue,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare tongue,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare tongue,
Or light to thy bare tongue,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare tongue,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare tongue,
Or light to thy bare tongue,
Or light to thy bare tongue,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare tongue,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare tongue,
Or light to thy bare tongue,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare tongue,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare tongue,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare tongue,
Or light to thy bare tongue,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare tongue,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare tongue,
Or light to thy bare tongue,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare chin,
Or light to thy bare tongue


======== CHECKPOINT 033 OUTPUT # 003 ========

lash to him; but she was her own:
She that loves him, she hath no excuse;
He that loves her, she hath no excuse;
Then each of them commits his fault,
But he in one of them is guilty;
The other in another commits his fault.
What then shall she say,
And shall she say, “O dear friend, love’s fire?”
‘”The fire is red and white,
Than red and white when burned in the fire.”
“Thou wilt leave this world in sorrow;
My sorrow’s not for thy sake,
But for thy sake, my sake is greater:
Thy self, thyself, thyself thyself are more:
Thy self, thyself, thyself, thyself thyself are less:
For thy self, thyself, thyself, thyself thyself are not,
Thy self, thyself, thyself, thyself thyself be not.
“Thus do I confess to thy self love;
And now thy self I will do my best to convert,
The heart of love is mute; my heart deaf;
Whence is love’s heart but mute when he sings,
To greet thee or call his name?
‘My verse, the heart of love,
Strikes my heart with a sad heart’s strike,
Sets my mind alack with restless sleep,
The thought of it all and will stay my eye.
To me my love is as one from whom another may fly,
That all is my subject, and none else’s delight;
He that looks on my beauty cannot live in me,
When his eyes are full of tears and frowns;
What is my subject but my love,
And what my love is but in him alone?
To him my heart sits still, listening,
And yet neither ear will touch,
Which on her face bears the name of her god;
“Lo, what a fright would it be!
That no man, no husband, but all the world loved!
‘Lo, what a fright would it be!
That no man, no husband, but all the world loved!
Yet my heart will sing, and yet neither ear will touch!
‘”Whence art thou that thou art so bold?”
‘Twas not my right that thou wilt break,
And mine that thou art so rash that thy right break,
The right of conquest, the right of bondage;
What is thy origin but thy right being broken?
O therefore is it that thy right being broken,
Thy self thy own self being imprisoned in me,
O therefore is it that thy self being imprisoned in me,
The right of conquest, the right of bondage;
What is thy origin but thy right being broken,
The right of conquest, the right of bondage?
O therefore is it that thy self being imprisoned in me,
The right of conquest, the right of bondage?
O therefore is it that thy self being imprisoned in me,
The right of conquest, the right of bondage?
What is thy origin but thy self being imprisoned in me,
The right of conquest, the right of bondage?
O therefore is it that thy self being imprisoned in me,
The right of conquest, the right of bondage?
Why, that thou art so proud of so great a state,
What a shame and scandal the shame is!
If this be so, I’ll write another time,
To prove thee wrong, and prove thee right.
If this be so, I’ll do another time,
To prove thee right, and prove thee right.
What a shame and scandal the shame is!
If this be so, I’ll write another time,
To prove thee right, and prove thee right.
‘If this be so, I’ll do another time,
To prove thee right, and prove thee right.
Then shall I say, ‘I’ll be queen of the world,
And sometime of kings I may slay.’
‘”So I say unto thee, and thou shalt find;
And sometime of kings thou shalt find;
Thou shalt find, and sometime of kings I shall slay.’
“I will not steal thy jewel, for in thee,
Thy hard-bitten heart hath corrupted,
And thy soft brain hath made thee hard;
Thy heart hath been a gentle mistress of mine;
I will not tear her from her sweet bed,
Her glass of crystal’d water will not burn her.
‘”Why, love, that thou wouldst in my presence tear,
For such a thing couldst thou in thy heart thrive,
And all my love, all my love would love thee in my bed,
Since my love, love, was love in thy heart,
My love, my love, thy


======== CHECKPOINT 033 OUTPUT # 004 ========

Shell
‘That from thee, from me
This dear heart may seem false
Who in thee is wrong, and whose truth
Gives false hope to the false hope of the night?
Who would think that the soul’s eye did behold
The true beauty of this earth,
If this beauty itself were concealed?
For in my own breast my true heart,
Thy love to you, and to me,
May still be alive to be called my friend!
I’ll not bewitch thee, O thou wilt deceiv me,
That in thee I am to be thy self:
And to this day do I think to make thee a guest.
My verse of praise is this: ‘Lo, I love thy virtue,
When my beauty is so weak, so is my dear love:
My self my true heart to thee,
Thy worth the same as thy self,
When my self is too weak, so are thy self:
Mine being weak, so are my self’s sake:
And yet thou mayst mine be a double thing,
To thee mine is my self’s worth.
‘”For in the earth thy sovereignty lies,
And in heaven thy sovereignty lies
But in thy pride is pride too strong.
Therefore are their eyes blind to the sight,
And blind to their sight’s view,
For each eye sees but one thing;
And if the eyes of the world were all blinded
And each one saw the same thing,
And each one, in their shame, did not look
But each one in shame did seem;
The eye of heaven was full of shame,
The eye of earth was full of grief,
But each eye saw no thing that was good
But one thing, and each was proud of all.
‘O, O, what a dreadful thing it is!
For from my dear womb did I breathe
Hast thou then thy dear heart’s content,
And all the rest in vain, being gone.
‘But as thou art gone,’ quoth she, ‘why shouldst thou stay
That which thou art with the time of thy life?
When thou art dead, what is that to thee?
Or where is that wherefore shouldst thou come back?
The sooner, the happier hath she been!
O, why shouldst thou stay, that which thou wast gone?
O, why shouldst thou stay that which thou hast done?
Or where is that wherefore should thou come back?
Or where is that wherefore should thou come back?
This is all-knowing and all-substantial,
And yet her heart is but a closet of thoughts;
And as her heart may not hear the cry,
Which it hears but as it would hear you,
it hears but as it would see you:
And yet when you behold her, be afraid,
And not as fearful as if you were there,
But as if by nature or your love,
You would have been thy best.
This argument was a joy to myself
To have learned this art from a nun and nun
Of pure virtue, and that of beauty,
With such care as in a true book!
Her beauty was both new and old,
Like the blood of two true mothers,
That is to say her new invention was new and old.
‘Now may I pray for thee, O poor widow,
The hours are out that I may return,
And if so, in a moment I’ll return to thee.
“Thou art so hard as a hardy thorn,
And as soft as a jade,
Or as stout as steel,
Or like a turtle, or like a boar,
Or like a bat, or like a dove,
Or like a dove, or like a bat,
Or like a dove, or like a boar,
Or like a turtle, or like a boar,
Or like a turtle, or like a boar,
Or like a turtle, or like a boar,
Or like a turtle, or like a boar,
Or like a turtle, or like a boar,
Or like a turtle, or like a boar,
Or like a turtle, or like a boar,
Or like a turtle, or like a boar,
Or like a turtle, or like a boar,
Or like a turtle, or like a boar,
Or like a turtle, or like a boar,
Or like a turtle, or like a boar,
Or like a turtle, or like a boar,
Or like a turtle, or like a boar,
Or like a turtle, or like a boar,
Or like a turtle, or like a boar,
Or like a turtle, or like a boar,
Or like a turtle


======== CHECKPOINT 033 OUTPUT # 005 ========

achu is still young,
And she cannot hold him in the dark;
Yet being quite dead, yet she still holds him still:
When the time is past she looks toward thee,
And then she turns back and forth,
She bends her chin, and frowns sadly.
“Thy friend,” quoth she, “there is a devil to be hid;
The devil hath committed a shameful crime,
And thou dost repent, for thou art a devil.
‘But be a nun, and thou do abhor his disgrace;
In thee shalt all this be done, as to one that hath seen:
For where in thy body were he committed this crime,
And he shall hereafter be disgrac’d.
‘When they have tasted of her, and had tasted of all,
But in that which they have sworn to eat,
And tasted, they did their oaths to give
And all their vows were broken, and all their oaths of friendship
In a bloodless world did they bow before.
What was the greater glory of this sad hour?
How long it was, how long it did remain?
Thy love, thy fair love, doth owe every sum
Of thine, to all this I will lend thee,
And yet thou shalt not love that which is not my,
That to thee was not thy life,
And all is in vain.—
“He’s gone, and now I’ll wake him,” quoth she,
And I’ll sing this hymn of my love:
‘Now I’ll sleep a while, and then he’ll awake.
‘To make himself awake, and then no longer,
Or he’ll not be so kind, or he’ll be such a dumb fool.
‘Then he’ll be so nice, I will tell him so;
Or he will be so lame, and then his tongue breaks,
Or he’ll never be so fair, or he’ll be such a fair fool.
O how happy we shall be, how happy we must be!
‘So that one by one thou shalt swear,
Or one by one I shall swear.
‘”Lo, this is a sad night; but let it not be:
The more true is his eye to hear,
And one eye to see, one to look;
Yet each eye hath two ears, each nostril is
Like a dove. Collatine had his queen,
Which, like one of the boar’s fledcings,
Steals from her eye one of his golden pelt.
‘Lo, this is a sad night; but let it not be;
But let it not be, but let it be:
And if thou shalt say that thou wilt,
Then what of him then art thou so kind
To lend, and to lend him that which thou wilt lend?
I’ll have thee as a guest of one love;
That one of these two love’s lords mightst remain,
Which may be as good to us as he should be to thee.
“My verse is not thy book,
And I will not teach thee the rhyme;
To write your life for me as your life for me,
The other my verse shall teach:
And one that shall be read by millions
When every tongue shall say, ‘The other,’
And ‘The other,’ ‘The other,’
And ‘The other,’ ‘The other,’
And ‘the other,’ ‘the other,’
and ‘the other,’
And ‘the other,’ ‘the other,’
and ‘the other,’ and ‘the other,’
The other four are gone.’
‘For love’s sake,’ quoth he, ‘why have you sought
To kill me with so many darts,
But I have not sought my revenge,
Though thou, that art my foe, be slain;
For by your own will I have done thee wrong.
Now this verse be thy guide,
By his will do me good: and as the time goes by,
This verse thou shalt be a witness;
To me thy will will hath the power,
The most honourable lord’s will,
The best friend, the most beloved son;
The best slave to bondage:
The most harmless child to shame,
And most harmless to be despised:
If my heart will love thee so, my soul cannot love thee,
Yet that in thee art best kept out.’
‘I was not bred to kill,’ quoth she, ‘or to rob,
But when my husband was, I gave him life;
And life’s ransom is life’s life’s life’s life’s life.’
‘”Kill her and your life and all your world’s worth,
I will bequeath her to my love,
And your world’s worth to my love,
And all your world’s worth to my


======== CHECKPOINT 034 OUTPUT # 001 ========

Desk to let my maid out.
‘Thence he takes her by the hand,
For she hath too much ado to kiss,
And he turns to her to kiss her again.
‘Then I, Lucrece, and all the dearest friends of yours,
My self and all my self being made
To kill the day or night with lust and to see
Those things that live in my soul that will not kill,
Which you with the help of nature have kept
Have kept to mine own desire.
“How much more is it worth than a hundred livings?”
“That’s more than I can say.”
And in her place sits Lucrece’ sister,
Who, by some heavy hand, bids her stay:
Cave, let go, and stay where I belong,
Let loose my sweet Lucrece’ face, and my dear, but bare head,
As I can, but not without a fight.
And as soon as this said, the maid goes,
To greet them with all her might.
“But thou hast forsook me in desire,
And yet I did vow to abide by thee,
And not to be thy friend, nor be thy neighbour,
But to make you my slave and my slave’s slave,
Which you for my sake to steal are none.
Then if that I be gone, why shouldst thou not find
My beauty there? Or was it all beauty, my love?
Or was it all self-love, my love?
Why should one beauty, then make two of me,
When you my self had so many beauties,
When you my self have many a very dear love,
Have each one by nature so many,
And of thee I, in one, by thee so many?
Why should one be my true love, though all by nature so?
My true love is mine self, and yours self is me.
Yet if thou art my self, thou art my self, and mine self,
Then thou art me, and mine self is me;
But if thou art the other, and me neither,
Yet I am not the other but thou art the other.
O that which is my nature,
The thing which thou hast in abundance,
And hath done that which thou art forced,
To do thy self wrong, then I wilt not do it,
For I was not yet thy self, but thou art mine,
O then by me thou art my self, my self thou art,
Thou art mine, and mine self, that art thee,
If thou be mine, then thy self art mine.
But if thou art mine, then thou art my self.
‘And now he crosses his back toward the fire,
So he, fearing lest it rain, stops the fire.
“O dear boy! the fire is out, and thou hast sworn,
That the world that thy self was wont to burn
Was set free, and that thy self was never to burn;
That thou was but a stone in heaven,
And dost thou not believe in that which thou art?
Or is it the world that I have made,
That now thou art but a stone in heaven,
And dost thou believe in that which thou art?
Or is it the world that I have made,
That now thou art but a stone in heaven,
And dost thou not believe in that which thou art?
But, ’tis true,’ quoth she, ‘this world is in me altered;
That I was not yet thy self,
And that thou art mine, now my self is altered;
“My love,” quoth she, “it is not of thy advantage
To kiss; but if thy lips be troubled by my heart,
Or by the thought of you, my body shall stay the sting
Of your sweet act. O if this, that didst woo thee,
What dost thou do if thou shalt not see what it is?
If it be my face, let it be seen,
But if it be no face, let it be seen,
If beauty be thy beauty’s mark, let not love’s mark,
For beauty’s mark is never, never be, ever.
As you are no longer my face, so my mind be.
In the hope that one day you shall see my face again,
I will take counsel, and let my mind go
To your fair eyes, where none were to see me.
I’ll be mute, and be mute now;
To be mute and still, I will not be mute now.
But thou art not mute, thou art deaf, and yet hear me speak.
The worse sin is, thou that dost speak:
the better sin is thou that speak’st:
The worse sin is that I speak


======== CHECKPOINT 034 OUTPUT # 002 ========

terna’ry might as well be called’sweet’ (as the unseasonable summer would be) with thee,
O what sweetness in thee! How vile a thing was thy smell!
If thou be thyself sweetest,
Thine is thine, thy other is thine.
Then to thine own shame I will not be,
If my body have thee in any way,
Or in any manner in my being
O, that I may be thy dear friend,
I pray thee thus, that thou mayst live
Thy self, and me, thy self, and all:
As thou hast done, and done again,
Thou canst live, and live again; and be dead,
And live anew, and be dead again,
When thou re-living Muse deigns,
And the world’s greatest monument doth sit.
‘My love,’ quoth she, ‘you have taught me not to hate,
That was true love when I was a boy,
And love when I am a man: that is,
That, when I am old and come to be
In the world’s greatest heat of days,
Then my love will be taught in my youth,
And your love will be taught in my youth,
Though you be dead, and yet life in me still be.
‘But now he comes, and in a very large closet
A nurse-maid, she sets her glass,
Whereon she pours out her glass of clear,
Which she drops on the fair white bath.
‘My love,’ quoth she, ‘I have read in the past,
That all men are kind to one another,
And that no man loveth another is love’s suit,
But I have not the time to tell
What I am to you, in time you should think
How lovely to know your friend is new,
And when you have had your friend, how well you like your friend
How best you like to be in one place.
For then should one that you know well,
Take pity upon him whose ill will to do him good,
And he with his ill fortune to make his wish,
So do I, for that which you seek,
Which is to be your only aim in life,
Being a pure, simple thing that you cannot have
In thought alone: you must live and let go.
‘What of thee, O true friend, what of thee
When my soul is no more than a flower,
In a lifeless substance dead, where all my parts are;
Which by all outward beauty was made,
And is gone, to die, in this dead-spring,
That in thee’s light is born the light
That ever lives, ever did live before.
If that, let me not fear I must go
To sleep, nor sleep to the spring;
And yet from the spring’s spring comes the cold chill
Of winter and of spring’s freezing frost;
And so I, in love’s time,
Lie where I can, but from my love’s will I will stay.
‘But be not too much afraid, for what is in me,
The day’s prize is not to be had at all,
nor to wear the night out,
But the day to night is to be done,
To be gone, and never return.
‘”For thus said I once more, ‘O fair goddess!
Look what beauty in me my youth hath done;
To wit, to wit, I have writ in my heart:
But my lips have not taught me to write nor read:
That it is but your will that shall tell me
What I was, what I am now,
And what shall you find me in your dreams!
But here I say this I love you in the hope
Of such happiness as you might find,
When all the world’s proud monarchs, kings, princes, and princes
Are all the fairest of all, you shall have
My praise in all the world, and I love you in your sight.
‘Yet I must say I did not know thou art gone,
Thou art still alive, thy grace to me still is lost.
Then why should I weep that my love is fading?
“Poor girl,” quoth she, “I have seen thy face so green,
That all my youth looks on it with disdain;
For the first spring to wear the other away,
What worse still for that green is this,
Than this spring’s sweet flower, that leaves your flower.
If thou wilt bear the summer’s winter out,
Then I w’illenot to do you wrong,
But to give you summer that summer’s beauty,
The very summer that should be yours,
That must give you the sweet-bedecked


======== CHECKPOINT 034 OUTPUT # 003 ========

agenda from his mother for her sake.
‘O that man could not, in heaven’s eye, lie so untruthfully,
As to lend a false hand to the tyrant,
That by the swaying sway of his will he should leap;
And in the place where he was straying,
He waded from a high-pitch’d path;
He dived like a boar into a hedge;
And dived again like a lion, but without his crest,
With a gentle stroke he rose and gone.
‘This, too, is the story of the traitor;
My poor son, when it shall come to my eyes,
Or shall I be found guilty of his crime?
For where the tyrant lies, and where the brave man lies,
For the weak, and for the dying, and so on,
What then shall he do, save his weak mind?
When he can no longer plead, where else can he show his will,
Then for his willless will he will fight,
Like a vulture, devouring the morning’s prey,
Against which, like a creeping pestilence, he devours his diet,
To give death a more abundant name:
And death, in that name, was a name new born
From the mother, from the father,
And from his origin of desire from his mother.
For when I am old enough to have told my story,
And know where those days to come are,
That the time is but to tell where you came:
Thou hast no longer need’st to be idle:
For time seems to me a perpetual thing;
It doth in perpetual time renew and renew;
But as time doth die, it renew’st by renewing anew.
‘Thus shall I beheld that thou wast the muse,
For my muse, thy music I may invent,
Thy self, thy image I may enchant,
That to thy self mightst thou art made of thine,
To thy self I shall be your painter,
To my self I shall be my painter’s love,
To all thy love I will be one pure creature:
When this, then, thou shalt live in the painting,
That in the beauty of thy art thou art,
I am your best, my love, and this I love thee more,
Since that is my best that I am not your best,
You have no art, in my love that is better,
I am thy best art, and this I adore thee more,
And that my love is your best love,
And that your best art my best,
Therefore all praise is thine, and my best is your best.
So I love thee more than all, because I find thy art better.
“This man’s a devil, but for that, thou wilt be mute;
Thy will is hard and weary, as I hear thee cry;
Mine is gentle love, and all my life doth live in lust.
‘Tis but to kiss my friend, that I should fall,
In love’s soft touch I am dead, or else in lust,
And when I have so much shame I will not love thee.
‘Tis said with a heavy-bonk’d grin,
That with that grin she falls, like a hard-fiving lamb.
And as she flies, her lips, as though with sorrow,
Will kiss the place where she was before,
The moment when she doth she think it forgot:
That is when her tongue, like an owl,
Will, in her sweet womb, call the night’s end,
To kill the thief, and so end thy life.
And she on this, by the aid of a dove,
With what little speed her hand did chase
The thief by the hand that did slay him;
The dove, on the side in the way, did seem,
To hear his grief, to give her another look.
‘What can a dove say of her fair complexion,
How she in looks doth resemble a hare?
Thy self may not deceive thee by that,
Unless I can, thou art my friend, and I will kill him.
I must not let him go, thou wilt, though he go,
For I am thy self, thy self’s treasure;
And for thy self I am thy friend, and thy self thy slave.
If thy self ever had any honour,
Or ever had any self-portion,
Or ever had any kind of self-appalling power,
Then would I say that thy self hath no honour to hold,
For thou art thy self and art my self’s slave.
If thy self ever had any honour,
Or ever had any self-portion,
Thy self is thy self,


======== CHECKPOINT 034 OUTPUT # 004 ========

insignificant and weak, but full of bold hope, strong with courage.
His arms are heavy, his hand doth tremble, his eye doth dart;
And when he takes the knife from his hand,
Strikes him so, but such force did make him kill:
For what an accident could he so desire?
If he were in love, and in death in me,
But in death I in him were a part:
The other two I were none of,
But in him I was the father, he the other,
The other being father, the father’s son,
So he did take his leave and go,
To have a wife, and a child by him.
I love the man who takes my life and buys me
And I hate the man who buys my life and buys me
What in me you have but an unused part,
When I was only an idle beggar in my breast
And had been, now I live with a man in me,
And to live in you (that’s true) is my heart’s task:
Since to live with you (this is untrue)
And have lived in you (not live in me)
But to live in you (not live in me)
For that, my heart, the life I gave you,
With whose death you still live in my breath,
And I in that which you in me live in breath.
“A thief was wont to take me by the hand;
And yet I beheld her leaning upon a tree,
And she would not, nor the earth would not budge;
She must be tied in knot; to prevent such trespass,
I will tie her still, and then I am dead;
No word could help her, but ’tis her,
To hear thee, but me, and then she whispers:
‘He stole my son from me and from the way,
And my wife from her; but she still kept his head,
And not the wits that made him grow
Like a creeping tyrant creeping in through the night.
His teeth, for their softness did soften them,
And the poor thing in his chin’s rotten bottom
Could not, but her eyes had a sharp knife made
To break his sharp teeth and kill him before she had time
to kill him.
‘Why let this child with the knife die of a wound?
Look what a woman’s heart is made of,
When a young boy’s heart is redoubled with sorrow.
His brows, his lips, his nose, his neck, his cheek,
His breast, his cheek, his chin, his legs, his face;
And here the painter had the picture;
And then, smiling with the picture on her face,
She looks at him and replies, “Why kill me?”
Then with that she cries: ‘He stole from me.’
But why kill me?” quoth she, she knows thou lov’st not,
A vow that thou mayst fulfil, and that thou mayst abide,
And that thou wilt keep, thou art my lord and my friend,
Thy love and thine is thy love, and that is thy wits,
Thy wits, and thine art me, and that is thy heart,
Thy heart, and thine is me, thy heart, thou art my sweet friend:
Thy heart, that thou lov’st to my heart, and thine is mine,
Thy heart, that thou lov’st to my heart, thou art my loving friend.
Thy heart, that thou lov’st to my heart, and thine is mine,
Thy heart, that thou lov’st to my heart, thou art my love,
Thy heart, that thou lov’st to my heart, thou art my friend.
“Harmful,” she boath’d him, “my dear friend, my dear friend;
This foul night is my only comfort and hope;
Thy woe, my dear friend, my dear friend, is my grief:
But since thou wilt hear, it shall be thy hope.
The best is my hope, the worst,
The worst is my hope thy hope:
The best my hope is, the worst is my hope,
“For the world’s sake,” quoth she, “let those in charge,
That audit their deeds in others’ eyes,
To see what errors their infirmities show,
Then I will prove them all wrong.
Thy blood may not purge thee of faults,
Or blot their stain upon the face of thy days;
Thy eyes and lips, and liveries, and all their parts,
Which by their outward signs might be seen,
Are, like an abomination, mute and defaced.
“What dost thou


======== CHECKPOINT 034 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Cosby’s life and death are best left to die,
Then he lives and dies, and there lives the best friend.
‘I can not tell you my delight, nor my sorrow;
But thou hast my honour, thy self’s honour,
Which to me is the most dear of all.
By this, he comes and gives it to my mind;
My self to whom this honour is due,
And what honour that it leaves, to thee it doth belong.
‘Let the thief then, that stole thy prize,
Upon whose face thy dear life depends,
Let it be confessed that I am guilty of this offence,
And you, the thief, on whose honour so depends.
And this I tell you, the truth is plain,
And you, the thief, on my honour’s disgrace,
And me, the victor on the offence.
And therefore I do answer you,
No, it is thy honour that thou hast done this offence:
What of thee, O love of me, am I not guilty?
Thy self is such a disgrace! let thine self do it again!
Thou art the same to all these who have sworn,
That by thy being put in my offence:
But if thou art true and true,
I fear not thy love, but thy guilt shall be
My guiltless chastity.
Love is love, not aught else,
But hate and allureth it; so am I, and yet am
Not the same to love, nor to love any other.
In short, thou mak’st the fault of thy art
A thousand errors, and the fault is mine alone.
“What dost thou seek so vile a crime,
as this unkind, untimely murder,
That I will inflict on thee? thou wilt seek, thou wilt not seek.
O but by thy own foul, hateful skill,
Thy eye so pure, and all thy lips black,
That all this to thy lusts deceiving thoughts,
Thy foul eye, thy foul tongue so kind,
Thy foul tongue such a foul tongue,
That thou all such a thousand faults of words,
Thy eye, thy foul tongue such a foul tongue,
Thy eye, thy foul tongue, thy foul tongue,
Thy eye, thy foul tongue, thy foul tongue,
thine eye that doth behold such a sight:
Thine eye, thee that doth behold such a sight:
Thine eye, that doth behold such a sight,
And thou dost see such a sight so proud:
So shalt thou see this image made,
That every eye, every eye hath seen,
And all of them so proud in their wealth,
That even to-day, we look upon them disdainfully:
Yet look upon them in their wealth,
And yet we look upon them in pride.
Look on them in their beauty, and say,
That ’tis not for thee, nor for them,
To be my debtor, but to be your self,
Of my self, and for thy self, and not to be free.
This verse was composed in a dream,
That in it our mind was deceived:
This was to be a story told,
That you, my friend, my dear friend, were my guests
And you my guest in this life
Thy self, mine, thy self, this life, and all this,
And all these, and all these to-day,
The mind is not told where this is,
My love in my love is told there.
“Love is a cruel thing, a senseless thing,
A child of lust, with blood on his chin,
Shameful to women, and proud of kings:
So am I with them, but not with you.
Whence were the plague of old so hard-pressed,
Thy proud age come to an end?
Whence is the world so full of sorrow,
Where sorrow and joy are so far away?
Where joy is full of sorrow’s proudest grief,
Where beauty’s proudest beauty, and beauty’s greatest joy:
Where beauty’s proudest beauty is full of sad woes,
And with grief and with joy full of triumph.
Thy self, mine, my self, my friend, this life, and all this,
Thy self, mine, thy self, this life, and all this,
As if I should be lost in this or that,
But live and die in my self, and be dead of my self.
Then why is my love so so hard,
Even when the world is full of cruelest pain?
Whence have I begun to doubt
Why I should in any wise live and die,
Or be buried with my friend when thou d


======== CHECKPOINT 035 OUTPUT # 001 ========

block, this should be done,
But if she could not, this should be done,
And if she could, this should be done;
‘And if he be, then thou wilt not know,
He is not thou, for thou art no man:
“Inwardly he goes he goes, and inwards he goes,
And inwards he goes, and the heavens inwards
Both make his course and his end meet,
Which, being well made, must yield him no more.
‘How can the earth, whose bounty is in him gone,
Save from a desperate plea from his lips,
Save from a sad heart to weep,
Or, for that, from hell, to know,
Thy death is such a desperate show!
Yet that which is most dear still to me now is,
For that which is most dear still cannot be,
Or still cannot be, or can never be.
“Hush, my poor daughter! How late is it?” quoth she. “Since then I have no sleep,
I’ll wake her now and then, and then stay.”
Poor Lucrece, thou art such a devil!
No, I assure thee, that is not my love,
A sweet kiss, a kiss so bad, I must kill.
To kill thou art so vile a deed,
That I should make thee a nurse, and nurse
all sick of thee. O thou whose death’st thou to blame,
Make that my life’s expense,
And thy treasure live in another’s loss,
For ever more poor Lucrece’ heart will stain!
Her cheeks red with tears, her hair with tears,
And her breath with burning fumes make wet.
‘Look what my son was about to do;
This poor devil, that by witchcraft so forbid,
Had no power to shape his will,
The world could not but make him change his will,
That the world might in his will make him change his will,
And live for ever more poor Lucrece’.
“Thou art a coward and rash,
And a coward and rash,
Even to thy will, to my will,
And then, for sin’s sake, I will not kill thee,
But thou mustst live and I will kill thee.”
‘Tis true, but what follows ’tis true
I am the son of a goddess;
That I have a son and daughter both of him;
I love them both, and love my life no more;
So do I, thou art not of my liking,
For life’s sake, thou art dead, not of my liking.
And yet he did break the news, and the maid was gone,
So were his poor daughter and she the maid,
Who, seeing her sad state, hastened to the gate.
She puts the lock on his door, and from thence she
Calls on the light, that she might not hear him,
That night’s dreadful cry she makes to heaven.
Her nails to his bare flesh are as sharp as sharp-snouted hooks,
Or as sharp-snouted hooks when they break, so is he
That steel in him is not sharpened, but is dull.
‘My dear wife,’ quoth he, ‘if thou wilt hear me, tell me this,
If thou wilt, then the morning dew upon my brow,
Whose golden light doth dim my senses, and I lose all amaz’
Though I be blindfolded in dimness,
O no, behold this blind thing, which doth see me,
My eyes doth see thee, and yet I fear,
Like a wild boar, do not fear; for fear is the swiftest prey
Of every bush and gazelle;
For fear is the wither’d coward, and wither’d bold,
For fear of my self thou art the foe,
For fear of thyself thou art the friend,
And then, lo, this coward withers at my swift foe;
Who, perceiving my unswerving rage,
Bade me yield, and wert aloof;
For shame of this, I am bound to my will:
Such petty jealousy, for shame of such a foe,
Such jealousy still will not kill,
When it kills thee, who it kills by such deed.
So I tell thee I love thee deeply,
And yet thou shouldst not be my love,
For thou art like me still, and yet this thou dost love,
That thou art like me still, and yet this thou dost love,
That I thy love still still remain and love,
As thou art in the cause of my love.
Thus do I pray that thou mayst have a mind,
Which knows what kind of suffering thou art


======== CHECKPOINT 035 OUTPUT # 002 ========

dodged with a cold sweat, and in it came the fire that had burned so long:
Then stood a pretty young woman, clad in black,
And in her fair hair a kind of gentle grace:
And when she had been let in, she rose, and did not go,
The air in her cheeks and cheeks gave a burning fire;
In the hot water her cheeks burned, and in the hot water she rose.
‘”So then thou wilt tell me that love is so hard,
that thou in the marrow mayst be cured,
Though thou lov’st such soft stones as thy lips do.
Yet this is true, that thou, my love, art mine.
No, my love is mine;
As thy tongue my hand art all my love’s part.
Love in thee is but one,
And no part of the whole is ever mine;
But my love is in thee both and all.”
“O then thy love, that’s of such a mild disposition,
Hath to this confined me, my fault must attend:
Thy love hath made me my fault’s slave,
And mine to blame shall be thy love’s doom:
The fault of all my faults in thee is mine,
And thou my slave, whose fault shall pay the blame.
Her face with outward rigour
As if she were a stage, like a stage
Of thievish play; or like a chamber of smoke,
Or like a painted tomb of decay:
But she in her pyre still threw forth,
A thousand kinds of fire that did not burn,
Which burning from thence burned away the shame,
Which from thence burnt away the guilt:
‘So, what had my honour to do with thee,
With that vile garment of my self’s blood I threw,
That now in thine own image did stain,
As thou thyself in my self’s blood should doth stain,
So mayst thou as a mother do stain with thy daughter.’
As for me, my duty was more to watch
Than with his lust, nor with mine own offence;
And in their eyes of scorn they have both sinned,
Since love hath done them both injustice and shame.
‘So then thy honour to me was not greater,
Nor to my honour to him it was lesser.
My honour to thee is all the greater,
When I have no honour to it,
So being of no honour to thy self thy shame,
O, the best is the worst! the worst to be so.
His lust, mine, mine’s, his was not:
But he that did, that he did love,
Shall as a lamb being shot by a wild boar,
The kill-off’d boar would not leap for fear of being struck.
His rage, mine, mine’s, his was not.
‘My honour to you is less, mine to you is much.
O what a hell of a life it is!
To be an office to you in such misery!
And yet it is not to be but to be,
Thy honour that hath mine from me should be.
‘O my grace! to see the heart of another
And see thine own self blush and cry so,
For shame’s true beauty is a sad state,
For shame’s true beauty doth wail.
‘But now the wind which blows still from her fair shore,
Or the stream which she feeds from her bank,
Or her neighbour’s blood is spill’d on his face:
So am I, then thou hast a part to play,
But I shall make my woe play my part in war.’
‘”The plague is so great, and so great an expense,
That I myself, being poor, have to bear it.”
This I could not say, but what I mean
Was not fear, but trembling fear, for fear is good,
Love is bad when I fear it.
And as I have a wish of mine own,
I will have love not to spend my life,
Though I live to see it end:—”Lo, what a dreadful death
Mine eye doth survey the grave, and thence he doth look,
For thou hast a face of deadly skill,
Which on his brows the lines hang;
But what thou o’erwits bears him such a hideous doom,
That when thou beholdest my face, thy mind doth tremble,
And then woos the world that thou wilt kill me.
‘”And from the edge of the tent where she lay,
Bearing her face’s contents in her breast,
The wretch that by her arms hath fed,
Is on her cheek in terror, and her lips in cheer:
Her eyes are as white as snow,
And her cheeks like


======== CHECKPOINT 035 OUTPUT # 003 ========

ponder on her as he did upon her,
And all love withal was broken,
And love lost, with her a second gain,
He was victor, he doth lose her life,
And for love she is bereft of all.
‘Yet when I saw thee, as you are,
When I saw how many tongues the eye of mind
Advised me as you to think and do,
With your lips my love made my tongue,
And mine own was love’s own in me:
Now, as you are now, my tongue’s sweet alchemy
Sets my soul to that which is thought,
And makes me love you in that which is thought thought:
And thou, that sweet beauty in me,
Hath so long as I was, thou thy sweet muse,
Whence now, love hath to-day put on,
Hath made me a man, a woman, a child, a child, a wife,
And by this I may say that thou wast thine,
And never dost deprive me of thee,
For I am your slave, and thou shalt have it.”
“But now Adonis was slain, and Tarquin subdued;
And Collatine and Philomel were slain, and Tarquin defeated;
And Lucretius and the Trojan queen, slain;
And the unnumbered legions that trod under them
Made it plain that men were conquerors,
And all of them like lords of Rome,
And all in some unvarying plot,
That their lusts had no place but in each.
‘The thought being on, it doth make the breast seem young;
The mouth seem green, the lips white, the nostrils white;
The head seem dull, the back dull, the tail green;
Yet not the least thing amiss with all these.
As I look on this sad picture,
The sad object being done away,
The painter doth show the dying body,
And as a dying star dies, the dying part appears:
Yet why dost thou then bequeath to this?
Why shouldst thou the painter dote on me
when thou art living and the painter on me?
thou art but a mortal in love,
Thou art but a mortal in love,
And in thine, thou art a mortal in love,
Who in thine wasst thou such a slave,
That in mine eye thou art no more than thou art.
If I had been a mortal, why shouldst thou art mine,
Thy love would die in thee, and no more,
My love should die in thee, and no more,
thou art not so, for my love is dead,
And no more then can I die in thee.
So shall the birds that hear thy sweet song live;
The boar that lays hold of the flock that it saw,
Will, with the rough-hanging quail, dart from his nest;
For fear of his boar he strikes the ground, and falls;
But the bird that would have been king would have balked;
O, what an abomination! he himself doth dally,
Yet she will kiss him, till he take her by the hand.
‘But how did he touch the fair queen that nurs’d him?
For if he had, then Collatine and I would have died,
For Collatine and I Collatine’s eyes had blinded Collatine,
for Collatine had been born this way,
And Collatine this, and Collatine that,
Collatine and Collatine’s arms, Collatine’s cheek, Collatine’s chin,
And Collatine and Collatine’s back, Collatine’s face,
That Collatine with his back in mine was cast,
And Collatine with his back in mine was win’d,
For Collatine in mine was win’d in mine.
‘But now Adonis, as before,
Was in the least discontent with his course,
And he in others was more abashed.
The night was bright, the day cold,
The stars were shining in the sky,
And the ocean-going light
Asleep in her bed, waking her up in thought.
But now she saw the stars rise again,
The sun being set, the night dimming,
The moon rising, the wind being loud,
And the clouds themselves seeming to disperse.
Then she saw the roses, and thought she saw some,
He was rich, he was young, he was old,
And yet she thought he had some of those things in him.
‘Had I lived, as I live now, and still in youth,
Thou shouldst not have sought to be buried,
And would


======== CHECKPOINT 035 OUTPUT # 004 ========

onset for my part to leave him, for that is best,
His true love being the chief, the rest his sorrow;
For in mine, Collatine is but a beggar,
And Lucrece a thief, with Lucrece more:
And therefore have I advised him against his friend;
And so I the rest of my self have advised him,
And advised him to me by him alone.
‘Gentle mistress,’ quoth she, ‘this is for my friend’s sake,
And here this false eye is drawn, my dear friend in doubt,
His fair, and this false eye that bids me live,
That my sweet Lucrece to myself should die with him.
But why? I do know that Collatine is dead;
For though he never saw his face nor heard his voice,
No, no, Collatine, when he saw the wretch,
he in his bedrewed his fair hair, and there sat
The groom of a false god, on whose sway he stood:
“So, my dear boy, if thou wilt, this groom shalt reign,
In that name I will consecrate thee,
To my true love’s name and to that which is thine.
But since I love thee so much as thy self is,
Then for thy sake make me this pilgrimage:
If thou live, my verse shall be my fame;
For to die by me thou must die.
In love I shall find no excuses,
And no love-defying monument, to prove,
My death shall be brief as my love’s;
Love doth but entertain and entertain and entertain
Of ill-hurting hours, the more to himself he wakes.
‘Thus is love enrag’d: ‘Tis thou art mine, and thy will is mine,
And I am thy tutor, your school’s disciplinarian,
My tutor to your friend, the school’s guide,
And to my dearest friend all that is in mine,
As thou shalt love to love, so shall thy friend.
By so do I, that thou mayst never behold me
As I am now by nature’s eye, and nature’s eye is gone,
Nor by my love’s love’s love’s hate’s eyes shall my sight,
Which every eye can see, but not the sun;
Wherefore, in love, thy love’s true self lies,
Though thy love’s true self as thy self lies,
thy true self thou mayst tell thy self to love;
For thine self, in love, is thy self self’s love,
And thine own self’s self thy self’s love,
To give thyself thyself but for love thyself be,
And by that love my self was but thy self,
Thou mayst be the light, thyself all darkness,
Who in thy inward beauty shines forth thy light.
And, seeing my self, my self I must be,
And thou as I to myself, in thy inward light
Are light, thyself to be, and my self light,
To be, I love thee, and to thee alone;
And if thou lov’st not love to thyself,
Then I’ll be true, and thy false love to me.
‘So, thou lov’st me in thee, but thou canst not cure it
From me thy true self, so to do I cure thee.
Love’s lusts have not reposed in this,
And the outward lusts in me remain:
My self to be a god is the same,
And to be a god in me is as little;
As all the things in heaven are as one,
Yet is there no beauty but one of these:
In thyself there beauty lies, in thee nothing.
Then are thy parts made all the worse,
And thus I am thy self again removed.
‘What did I do to deserve it?’
‘That thou couldst give it, I have not asked,
But thou couldst withhold it, for me thou art mine.
“Look, Adonis, your face’s fair hue,
Whose pale hue thou lov’st with proud, proud eyes,
Or at the sight thereof with pride,
As it would seem, it was thine own, and did not stain
Upon the blood-lettered blood-red mark of thy,
So my love must not be corrupted with his,
Or my love my love be corrupted with thee.
‘For thou art true, and for thy part
Youth’s sweetest and fairest are not dear to me,
For they seem to me in thy beauty,
And I in mine are but shallow tenants:
The best and most precious of my fair,
Saints and plaints that are in my blood,


======== CHECKPOINT 035 OUTPUT # 005 ========

ruled from him was brought up, his pride and that of his power, his life’s sweet pleasure.
To this he says, ‘The gaudy Muse of her pride,
The richly wrought-out maid, the brinish, and the laugher,
The hapless child, and all the more for the fault of her love,
Her lust, in her pride, and in that of her pride,
Grew like a rose in his lusty state;
Then the world in fear of his lusty state
As it were from one of his enemies’ eyes,
The Roman would draw his knife, and with his blade
Kill the thief, and with his knife kill all the world:
As for my love, thou dost not give me thine,
Yet know it is my love; and I am the prey,
I am thy slave, and shall ransom my love hereafter:
Thus thou, mine self, my self art my love,
Thy own self art thy self, thy self’s slave;
Whose slave was my self, that thou art thy self free,
Whose slave was my self that thou art mine,
Thyself thy self’s slave, thy self’s slave, thy self’s slave,
To use thine own self to rob thee of thy self.
Therefore shalt thou thy self rob thee of thine own self,
Thou wilt deprive all other thy self from thine own self.
O love, wilt thou excuse my love,
That love hath a mind, and a heart,
And doth change that which thou dost change,
By thy parts change to thy parts increase,
By thy parts to my parts decrease,
To my parts increase to thy parts decrease.
The more thy parts are made enlarged,
The more thou mine parts my parts are shrunk,
And then I, like a son, by thy parts decrease,
The loss of what was thy part, and of thy part.
“Thus the golden torch was about her head,
She on it, as he on his would, circled;
At first she thought it a dream, but then she knew
Her eyes were dimmed with fear, and she would cry:
A dream, though it were true, but not so,
When every eye knows it is false, when every heart knows it true.
In vain, she tells her tale; for fear of thy lips,
He who lives by his life but by death’s doom,
Will live, and die by him who lives by life’s death:
If he die by death and by his life live,
The sun shall come and set the fire to burn him there.
‘For all that I did, my purpose was so,
To entertain myself in the affairs of love.
If my passion would excuse me from thence,
For want of love, or for want of reason,
I should in that place be absent, and leave thee
For in that place should my true desire be born.
For when I have said the truth of thy crime,
The other might say the same,
That I did say, I did say it in my imagination.
‘O love, be not deceived, and swear not,
That thou art married to me,
In deed, not to me, my will is ever renew’d.
“When I had the gift of many a fair flower,
I did take it with such care,
That even to-morrow morning I find weeping,
As if from some deep grove on the bank of the stream,
Cupid being present, the tears did run down her cheeks.
“What is this,” quoth she, “do I desire?”
Then answers she, “a dear sister’s bed.”
“No,” quoth she; “not if thou dost stay,
The door would lock for my sake, and I stay.”
And the door shuts, and she is gone;
And then she tells the story of the night,
Towards noon she hears the heavy thud
of her husband’s dead body, and doth hast a look,
She runs, like a horse she will not trot;
At first the thought seem’d to chase her,
Then she brakes, and then she rushes;
“Oh be silly,” quoth she, “it is dark in the house;
My eyes have not yet pierced the heaven’s level;
When, all cloudy, the skies are filled with clear:
I did behold the stars change their course,
And each one with their own image in his
His or her cloud fell upon their sight.
Yet, despite of these ill effects,
No more did she weep than now,
And now again her cries were kinder than ever before.
But since then I have sworn,
That she hath


======== CHECKPOINT 036 OUTPUT # 001 ========

Argon, that he should in him retire,
And live to see her, yet bequeath to thee.
‘Why dost thou forsake thy own eyes,
Of all your largeness to lend me your love,
And love to this or that thing I have not?
Why shouldst thou spend the night in bed,
Though mine own unending desire doth stay?
Why dost thou hie the hours long since I took thee,
And dost mine eyes my eyes that to thy love doth stay,
To make thy day seem night and day tomorrow.
O that the world may be my shadow as dark as night,
By thy shadow I may live with thee;
For by that shadow is life confined,
So far from love’s love’s eyes do my heart turn:
That love which in him is dead,
Thy worth in thee may live with thy love,
That my love’s fair beauty may live in thee,
To live in thee in thy love’s fair beauty,
That thou my love’s fair beauty die should live in thee,
Whilst thou art dead in thy love’s fair beauty,
Thy worth in thine might live in thee in:
By this thou be my love’s fair beauty in thee.
Now all was fair, and all was unadvised,
And this was thievish in spirit,
The vulgar tongue that did make it rhyme,
By adding a second meaning to the first:
“Lo here is a pretty lady, with bright green,
With round cheeks, and round, straight ears,
And red, or no colour but white,
The most admiring thing of him,
In the midst of all things beautiful and ugly.
In him there was no light, no smell,
No colour but in his vapour made,
But vapour, which from his vapour did mix,
Made him wet, wetter, wetter, wetter.
‘O where am I,’ quoth she, ‘from thence I may go,
By water, but by th’ absence shall cover me.
For now I will stay, to be revenged of thee,
And from thence forth to thee I’ll hang,
And make thee mine own torment;
And from thence my torment shall stay,
And from thence my torment shall stay,
And thence my torment shall stay,
‘The thought that in a place where my self lies,
All this grief that my heart so dear hath done me,
Upon the earth in a state of discontent,
And to the world in that hell is new born,
I will soon be buried; and all my shame will stay,
The world in a state of discontent:
Yet for all this, I fear no judgement of thee.
‘And so I was so intent upon this quest,
That I gave it me by accident,
And did the work to prepare it for me.
‘So, Adonis, thou shalt have my mistress;
Her will, my mistress, in no way alters;
For if thou prove fair and kind, thou shall have me;
Even so, she hath no love to deface me.
‘What is wrong?’ quoth she,’some boy that doth mingle
With my mistress that is, and is her own child?
Whose worth, my mistress, in thee I do debate,
Thy love is my own and my love’s worth.
The thing that is best, and best for me is;
For what is best, I love so, my love is best.’
‘Then from thy breast thy soul doth lie;
For by thy soul doth my love remain:
Whilst he in my soul by thy side lies,
To take away my self and me in his,
Then thou wilt never win my love,
For love doth not lie with me so.
“O, that my poor dear, from thy breast,
might aught in thee still be seen,
In that sweet heart that was thy sweet womb,
Whose soft marrow my youth gave me thy life,
Thy breath from thy breath giveth life to mine;
Thy heart’s fresh blood make thee alive again,
My love’s new-born blood renews my life,
Thy eye that hath eyes that do wonder in me,
Who art thou when I am dead? When am I not dead?
‘O then by thy soul I once were,
Thy heart did convert to thine,
And then thy heart again converted to thine:
Thy eye that hath eyes that do wonder in me,
Thy heart is thine, and thy heart thy life.
Thy heart doth convert to thine,
Thy heart doth convert to thine,
Thy eye doth


======== CHECKPOINT 036 OUTPUT # 002 ========

dylib

That, to be fair, we may say
Whose side is right; but all truth is false,
And beauty lies at the heart of both.
In short,
What is false is good, beauty is both.
“By this I state thee wert a boy,
And for thy good, for thy image be set,
To make thee good again, or else thou
Be my slave, and my slave to the world.’
“Then for my sake do not break me from this bed,
Thou wilt break thence, if thou wilt not then my bed.
O then not my bed, for my shame thou art,
Thy worth to me is but to kill thee,
For why then art thou so proud that I do kill thee?
Look what a doting murd’rous dame thou wast,
A poor dame’s slave, an untutored slave,
With no control was he forced to remain.
‘My maid’s husband,’ quoth she, ‘our mistress’
‘So thy husband may see me again,
And find me still a beggar’s paradise.
No more will thy mistress keep him out
Where he can feed his lustful appetite,
In this or that flat she lies,
That she with lust should dare say: ‘This,’ quoth she:
The thief doth leave her, and that fair day
Is to be revenged on thee by stealing;
For the thief doth steal thy sweet face,
And the proud maiden in thee sits:
Myself that did that steal thee,
By thine own hand did I steal thy dear name.
O how did my dear love from away,
Wherein so poor a maiden lies,
To be buried in this false stain so fair?
O let me not fear that that your love is fading,
That thou mightst in thy self, thy self to die,
For I hate thee and thy self, and thee to die.
If I would give thy love thy whole, and thy part,
Let me not hate thy self so as thy parts,
If my parts could in thy self be loved.
‘”Then is he gone, and she to her chamber
Steals all my sorrow, and makes me weep for thee,
Who, to see him, did for the sake of thy heart lie.
And now she hath a look, and sees that he hath fled,
From his sight with a fearful eye doth dwell,
Who, as a thief, bids the poor poor steal a kiss.
“And now he’s come and gone, and now I
Mine eye is gone, and mine heart hath seen him gone.
For he, my heart, my love,
To whom I have sworn is a stranger;
Yet do thy loving love, do not take away my heart,
As the thief, if the thief leave his mark.
“My heart, my heart,” quoth she, “is so weak, my heart’s strong,
That my heart shall in no way contend,
No defence can my heart from mine eye;
For it is not mine eye that doth hate,
but mine own heart, and thou art the better,
Whose heart, thou art my love, is in thee,
And thou to blame, I shall myself kill thee.
‘My heart,’ quoth he, ‘is so weak that I cannot move
With my trembling fingers to lend the knife,
That hath no strength to hold it,
Nor will my strong hand be able to scratch it.
Yet have I been with the world’s best,
And yet no love so fair a sight
To call my self but a woman,
And have I no love but by your hand lent,
A kind love to live with, not that which I am,
But only that which you best make my body:
‘Tis true that I am, and you are my,
But that I am not, nor yours is mine,
And you me, and yours mine is a place.
For from these lines of praise come I many a tune,
And for that which you in me tell,
I pray of your sweet angel your lips do sing.
‘To know thy shame, to hear your disgrace tell.
And when I have said to thee, ‘How am I to hear thee,
Thy true beauty is dead, thy shame fresh.
So have I spied on you, and for that I say:
Thy love is dead, thy shame fresh;
Thy love is new and new your sweet love,
For if thou be dead I’ll live to hear you,
Thy love is old, thy love fresh,
Thy love is new and fresh and yours new.
Then would I have thy help, thou wouldst make


======== CHECKPOINT 036 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Grim in his bosom,
And did not then come, nor did I but pray
That thou mightst see my true sight;
For thou shalt see my true self,
Though on my self thou art dead.
O, behold her face, and thy face’s face’s face,
Are both naked and in my breast,
For they both were one, when thou art dead,
Then death’s breath can’t kill thee,
But heaven’s breath can kill thee.
I love thee in thy image,
Though on my image thy likeness are slain,
O that thou hadst not been with me.
That is not what I in you in mind say
That you in me in my mind,
Are creatures of thine, but of thine own sake.
Look what fools did do for their sake,
To keep the Roman lord prisoner;
Nor in their love did they resort
To shameful chastity,
Nor in their love did they undertake to kill;
And that they did do, not in their own desire,
But in the spite of their own will’s giving,
To make the world’s wretched slave for that which they lack;
And that which they have beguiled for ransom,
To make their debtor’s self their slave,
And then to make themselves their master they fight,
For they can neither love nor hate nor despise;
They have no love but they themselves hate,
And love, though never with it, can hold no pleasure in mind.
O, what a joy it was to behold,
When on the earth thou art the earth’s child,
Then is my heart so dear and so proud,
that it bids it have thy rest,
And leave nothing behind but a wretched state,
Though life, and all things worth’st so well,
Have some place in thee to dwell.
Look what happy objects a slave bred,
Who is not bred by age’s back,
But is of such a worth to be brought thither?
Thou hast aught to be proud of, and then none?
Thou art nothing but a proud gazer,
Being proud of nothing but thou being rich,
And then thou shalt feel that nothing so good
Is to be felt nor never touched by.
O let not my self-love, or my love’s love’s love,
Be in thy bed, where thou mak’st not a tear,
O not the pillow of pity but thy pillow’s breath;
Then I’ll be mad, and then nothing will stop my weeping;
For pity’s breath makes no sound, and thou breathe’st not thine own breath.
And now I behold the black-fac’d Lucrece,
With long hair, and in it a red dot,
Doth lurk the unseasonable date of my death;
But when the light of that day doth dim,
My ghostly self, now, as before,
In shadow and colour with thee is now gone.
What more is there that can defend thee?
And where is the strength of thee so strong,
That you, like the painter in thee,
Could yet in his full-colour painting make thee shine?
O, my love, my love, my love must in my art live:
Thy self in me cannot, nor nothing else can hold thee,
But thou thy self I am, and thou my self must be,
The self that canst not stand thee alone,
And then canst do nothing to hold thee in care,
And be buried with thy self in such disgrace.
‘”But thou hast sent me some herald,
I fear, and fear not, for fear of such a thing,
thou hast a spirit unto me,
Thy self in me thou wilt be made a god.
Thy love, which is to me thy self,
Thy self in me thou dost make a god;
Thy self in me thou dost make a fool;
Thy self in me thou dost make a man.
Thy self in me thou dost make a devil;
Thy self in me thou dost make a husbandman;
Thy self in me thou dost make a deceiver;
Thy self in me thou dost make a beggar;
Thy self in me thou dost make a beggar-god;
Thy self in me thou dost make a beggar-god;
Thy self in me thou dost make a beggar-god:
Thy self in me thou dost make a beggar-god:
Thy self in me thou dost make a beggar-god:
Thy self in me thou dost make a beggar-god;
Thy self in me thou dost make a beggar


======== CHECKPOINT 036 OUTPUT # 004 ========

IS.
‘O thou hast no right to destroy my treasure,
Thou art my slave, and my gain I am stealing,
Thou art my dear friend, and I my captive,
Hence, to prevent this theft, I will break out my eyes;
Thy heart shall make all excuses, and my cheek shall sing,
This ransom shall be thine, and thou shalt never break,
thou shalt not steal nor be broken,
So long as thou art with me, that thou liv’st me.
The thief with the fair maiden, the one maiden with a mind full of love,
The one who didst steal the other’s life,
To get their life’s end with his own, to steal it again,
Sits the sour thief before he deceives;
Then are thy hairs fair in praise of thine self:
The truth, thy head and body in praise of thine,
Thine own iniquity, thy soul in stain?
The self, in all things, is thy most beguiling.
Yet when thou art in my power, and my love being done,
My love’s end is done; yet my love is not,
But my self is not loved.
Let my sweet heart, my beloved heart,
My beloved youth, and all love’s progeny,
That is my true love, and that which thou hast kept,
I’ll bear it for thee hereafter.
When thou lov’st me with thy beauty,
When thou lov’st me with my wit,
When thou lov’st me with my story,
And all with my self to tell the tale
of thy true self, and all others to tell the tale of thy self,
This self for my self was mine:
Since then thou art my self, and mine for mine lies,
As mine own was mine, and all those that own
That own were mine.
‘But I may say that I love thee now;‘And then I think of thee still;
But since then thou art thyself, and mine own for mine lies,
Then mine self will be mine.
And yet for thy fair self thou dost excuse me;
When I love thy fair self again, that I may return
To thee, and return still to thy self.
‘For this,’ quoth she, ‘in me all my sin I am disgraced,
And my guilty thoughts, though thy guilt never end:
My shame, thy shame, your guilt, thy guilt,
The fault of thy offences that thou shouldst not seem so.’
“But thou art not the same as I,” quoth she, “no more than that.”
‘That’s what I do,’ quoth she, “do to the poor beggar.
‘To steal thy wife and kill her was thy wish,
To rob her of her liberty;
To rob her of her chastity;
To rob her of her virtue;
To kill her in revenge for thy wrong;
But this I did undertake, and then thou dost yield,
That I thy self should by a stroke kill,
My self’s shame, mine own guilt, thy shame.’
“But have you seen the silver tongue in my cheek,
Whose true hue gives it beauty,
To your acquaintance’s eye the best:
The best is that which you best desire,
And for this we all praise thee.”
“This, what is thy nature?” quoth she.
“The one,” quoth he, “that makes this say so:
The other is the same;
And, like a bird, each plumage
Hath wings, and every bone a part:
Harmful to all, to be admired, to be loved,
That beauty doth so often appear,
That it hath this quality so strongly tied;
And by this the eye that bears this review,
Hath all, and all is in my heart,
When thou wilt behold again the time when
These three shadows doth meet again,
And beauty doth once more appear,
And beauty doth once more die,
Like a cloud that doth seem so white,
As when it falls by the bath-star sun;
But for that cloud doth this rain appear.
‘This,’ quoth she, ‘this, what is thy nature?
This, this, this, this—’
She adds, and hiss with a loud cry;
This, this, this—these are the words that she says she speaks;
‘This, this, this,’ quoth she, ‘these things belong to me.’
So her lips hang mute, her eyes fixed on the rose;
And like the gaudy Venus, she sings, ‘Lo, in this red rose,
O mistress, if


======== CHECKPOINT 036 OUTPUT # 005 ========

neutral, my dear;
The time is ne’er to say nor do I know
Whether the child will be a boy or a man,
Or whether he will tell his story in his boy’s book,
Or whether in his boy’s book he will write more,
Or whether in his book all we hear is vain lies.
In short, love is a simple device and
So it is with me now.
As I am in pursuit, so is the other;
And so is the world in a state of fear
With this love that I have sworn,
To keep the peace of that world between us;
And so is love my love my true love,
Which by my love have found acceptance,
Thinning my love, and my false love my true love:
The earth, which on it dependeth,
Sets in motion the siege that the siege makes,
Sits and abandons, and all in vain.
Thus with this he makes a more solemn vow,
Thinning the heart that bears me in his charge:
And all things short, that are, seem not so:
To hear, or see, or touch, can you,
O, and yet you do not know how to touch;
O, yet you do not know how to kiss;
O, yet you do not know how to laugh;
Yet then you laugh, and yet you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
But yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
But yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
But yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,
And yet you laugh still, and still you laugh still,


======== CHECKPOINT 037 OUTPUT # 001 ========

opponent on the one hand, and on the other both dumb,
And with that dumbness, like a mute deer,
Whilst in his head Lucrece with much ado sings,
To each honour he shows his horsemanship,
And with that honour Lucrece, like an angry lion,
Sits in his face, and cries, ‘Sith, thy horse did steal my life.’
‘Thou traitor,’ quoth she,’my heart’s duty to remove;
Thou traitor to my heart, for that which thou dost steal!
A thousand excuses seem’d to persuade me:
Thou betray’st my heart that it doth in vain forsake;
I must be fair, not black, to thee,
I shall love thee if thou dost not hate me so,
And then I will kiss thee in the morning,
And to-morrow take physic by night’s fair;
So shall thy love to me survive thee,
And make me a slave to be thy wife,
Which to-morrow I shall never have again,
And then shall you never be with me again.
By this my love is subdued and subdued,
And I with a perpetual groan,
The sun hath cast forth his fair shade
And all the clouds are newborn,
Wherein all the fairs they see hath lighted,
And bright with all summer’s glory doth light
And all beauty in deep drench’d water,
Whose heat is cold, whose cold vapours in his face
Pleads all into the ocean, whence it resteth:
This inundation of his face and breast,
By means of the wind, which makes it stay,
Tires his breath, and thence doth his body go;
Who by the wind dearer than water’s edge,
Is lost, and doth beget nothing to be found;
That’s all; the shame is his;
For shame hath no pity at all.’
‘It is I,’ quoth she, ‘that so many slanderous tongues tell
of mine offences, that all men can say is mine.
Thy eye, my heart, thy liver, thy eye, thy liver’s dial
Have in their glass an antique scale of my shame:
That scale they can show thee in another,
They can show thee in all the many, each one his own;
When I am in love, thy face shall appear before me,
When in love’s shade the stars shall fall from the sky,
And all night’s day’s day in the northern sky,
And thou my love shall in this false night sleep
Dance the dreary night with my sweet hours,
As in a trance to the spring’s froth.
‘Tis a pity to have your love stolen;
Mine own poor act of love was my friend’s;
But now in the prime of ill fortune,
The sun hath his treasure seized from me,
And, lo, I am his slave.
‘Tis no use to lose a dear jewel,
Unless it be yours, to use it for good.
Look what I have done to him, to him I say:
For I have made your life a life to kill,
And mine is the fame of all the world’s.
So that this praise I make on you,
What honour you will give to this earth;
Let it not be compared to wealth;
For where you find wealth lies, what you find there,
For where you do find wealth lies, what you do find there,
what your honour in your worth lies,
What wealth is that you do find there, what you do find there.
Look at what is lost, what is not there,
Look at what was lost in your youth, what is not there,
What is not there you can read or write but
The thought of many a thing is there,
that seems lost, but yet you cannot say it you did.
That which you can see, that cannot you see,
How far the lines that enclose it,
Are from thee nothing; for what seems from thee is
Bound to others, in thy self you feel.
Thus love in thee lies, as in thy body,
For love in thee lies still, as in thy soul.
Myself I shall never leave without aught from thee,
Myself I shall never leave without thee a whit more,
Myself I shall never leave without thee a whit more,
Or thou shalt never leave me no more than I have left thee.
As if by some act of chance a force
Thy hand did issue, the mortal man in question
Could not get his breath, nor could he touch it;
But he did thrust the palm downward upon the ground,
And to his right, on whose earth’d brim lay


======== CHECKPOINT 037 OUTPUT # 002 ========

comedians
In the morning, or the night:
Or night the day, or night in the
Time-Turning-Off-Herd-The-Odd-Stupid:
Love can make love to thee in others’ sight,
And to thee by nature’s hand she hath bred,
Of more than one subject, each a part,
Which her fair mistress, that beauty had to hide,
For his image of love did live, yet
He hath never left her side, nor never touched her sight,
To kiss her or to nurse her sickly fears:
Love’s effectually untimely wounds are not
Towards those woe-fac’d foes of freedom,
That never can be revenged upon my love,
But in thy honour’s defence I will keep my tongue,
Nor ever to break up their truce,
As their faults with thee should last as long.
Thus do I hate myself, but have thy right:
My tongue, in thee it seems, can express no offence,
If that foul stain of yours be so grossly discharged.
If your truth be replete with such lies,
And to every fair fair fair fair, where all creatures live,
The earth’s praise may seem fair, but thy tongue is fair,
Thou art not an earthly being’s son,
Thou dost lie, and thou wilt destroy this earth.
Let my tears then fill the glass;
And now I read thy story in pencil;
And this I do weep, thinking it all,
And that your beauty so tainted doth lie,
Let me make your faults public again in my mind.
For why should my tears be shed in their verdict,
When every tear in the book is justly painted?
But those in whose parts she herself did pollute,
O where was the good sense in my heart
Upon your sweet lips and on every cheek,
O where was the colourless hue of your love’s,
Where were the pearly violet and the rich emerald,
Where were the fresh green and the dead violet?
Why should I yours be thy sorrow’s theme,
when my love yours may be the better of two?
But where is love, and what of that beauty
Where is love’s best ornament, and what of it most worthless,
When you my love’s best ornament is best shapeless?
When your love’s best ornament is best kept out of sight,
Or when your love’s best ornament is best concealed,
How can your love’s best ornament survive but cold winter,
when I love’s beauty is the store-house most kept,
But in the winter when you like my love spendth,
Thy love is but a shallow closet from cold,
And your love’s deep-diving sea-way to the west,
For my love’s deep-diving sea-way is cold and dry,
And damps and weary winters with unseasonable summer.
To have her I will bequeath, to make my love more,
Than you, my dear sweet, who with my deeds hath spent,
Bequeath to my love, I your possession,
And bequeath thine own life and your sweet heir.
The very hand that feeds on my love’s woe,
Shows what an increase he inordinate love makes,
Whereas his hand in my love’s increasing flood,
Or if his heart could not love, can neither be nor hold,
Or if his heart could not love at all, he must die,
For then love is my instrument, music, my muse,
Till then it sounds, music to me, but not all at once.
So I will bequeath him what he will not give,
So will I bequeath his treasure to all whose gift it contains,
And all my love’s contents will live in my memory,
For never love, like the dead, can no longer stand,
Nor love alive be dead, unless some new-appearing charm,
To the living dead it will stand in honour.
I would give thee, if thou wouldst give this sweet glass a tear,
Or if thou were my beloved, if thou wilt give it again
Then be of my love, to be thy self, in thy part.
‘”O love! you which in thy self were created,
Which for thee art made, that all men may see,
And by their consent thou art in their power,
That all men may see, all men may judge of thee,
For thy self is good, thy self in the general good,
thou thy self’s part, my dear friend, this, this, this,
That all those things which belong to me are,
Hath nothing in themselves which cannot in themselves be.


======== CHECKPOINT 037 OUTPUT # 003 ========

warning for her own sake.
“You have done me wrong,” quoth he, “my heart hath been kind, my brain my heart hath been kind,
And your affection hath done me wrong, my heart hath done me wrong.
Be gentle, do not be tyrannous;
For I am not a devil, but a heavenly being,
That in him may rise from his seat,
And in him in him may he leap,
To kill the day, to kill your friend dead.
That it may my self be king and state good,
For when it bestows virtue upon my self,
That I in thee may say, ‘For thou art my self, I am all’.
“So true a love it is, that in the face thereof
I have no love of thy kind,
My love I have no pity of thy kind,
My love is love, not pity;
My love is my friend, my friend is my friend,
For love, and love, have no pity of their own.
‘Look,’ quoth she,’my poor self I may be seen
As thou do’st to creep on to the bottom of a hill,
Or dote on to the shady grype,
Or as the crow flies, in a remote part
With lofty towers or in gloomy caves spread;
Who for fear of their being seen, sing or do fly.
And oft the boar which lives by a weed did,
Not his horns, nor his claws, but their white,
Or horns, nor his white claws, but their black
The flower blushes red like the sun when hot it doth dine:
Thus is it, I must thy pen, and thee mine.
‘Tis tempting, this false duty,
To turn back, that thou mightst see the foul act:
I should not have done it; I should have told thee.
‘To love,’ quoth she, ‘if love, like a tyrant,
May hold my tongue, and thus he confounds me,
I should be thy slave, and live thine in love.
And being dead, being dead, yet I defy thee:
So is that thou art my slave, and my love’s captive.
O, lo, with my woes I have not laid
All my affections upon him, for fear of seeming adverse,
Yet now he hath done his pen more justice;
His papers more modestly trimmed;
His pens more full, his stories more brief;
His verse more refined, his books more new:
In short, nothing at all was my matter altered,
But his passion in my body, his inward part,
Showing it no change whatsoever, never had it so keen,
Or such a gross feeling of his hot desire,
As if from his passion it could not be,
Being as a thing of substance doth it stay,
With me, his passion doth live, and doth not die:
For now, like a drunken man gone by night,
The world shall behold the painter’s sad face;
Then his sad face shall stand, and he shall never see
The beauty which in his youth doth dwell.
“Why hast thou no love of friends?” quoth she. “Grief is not so dreadful to know;
That we no more dread in any part
Of the day, or night.
But as thou art nigh-twenty-eighth in thy power,
Shall this urge of yours, this false eye,
That every part of me, even as thy part
Lest my soul should wink, through thy bright eye,
To that true thing which doth entertain thee,
This false eye, which doth entertain all my parts,
Doth keep my spirit, and hath no part in my sight,
Which thou dost fright me with this false thing:
‘So, when thou art dead, no more false than thou art,
Thy false pride doth still live, and thou art still a true friend,
Thy true pride doth live again, and thou art still a friend,
Which thou dost slander again: ‘Tis true,’ quoth she, ‘he said he said;
I must give thee my love, for thou didst betray
My life, thy life, and my friend,
So shalt thou live or die: and if thou live, all is but a dream,
And death, if not, then at least half a dream,
For I hate thou that lived, and thou me that die.
What is it, then, that thou must live for me,
When I was my self and I thy self,
And thou was my self, now I thee are.
What is it, then, that thou must live for me,
When I was a self and


======== CHECKPOINT 037 OUTPUT # 004 ========

Rev,
With no cause but love, to bequeath her to thee,
For thou lov’st her that in thy name’s stain:
Her true love must survive, that in thy name’s stain,
Be not our subject, nor our love’s slave,
Nor do we our subjects, but the guilty guilt,
Under the shadow of his decease,
Toucheth in his pride and defameful disposition,
Then, my love, for your sake, do this:
“What do you think of those hills where I live,
And look where you like in these gloomy nights?
In those cold caves where thou art gone,
To make thy self anew your dwelling,
And to take thy place in the world you made
In me that did my invention thrive,
And in thee that I gave your invention a dwelling,
As all the plants, your flower, my vine, your tree,
As all the living things that are alive with thee,
Are in my pure breast, and in your blood,
And in my holy blood are you my altar,
And all your part thou convert’st to sin.
But thou dost forsworn this promise, to rob my heart of all,
When thou wast in my debt of friendship:
As if thy love were no love at all,
But to thy love was a bond of thine,
Even as thy love’s due owed me is.
‘O my Lord! tell me that thou hast harmed my son,
When thou didst break the tie of love; when thou didst win thy life,
When thou didst betray me for love’s sake;
When thou didst give me life, to spare thy suffering,
Then that thou shouldst rob my life of all thy life,
If that be so, why shall I say thou didst steal from me?
“How did I not bewitch you for my love’s sake,
And so did I when you did woo me from the fire,
When you did woo me from the sweet smell,
O never leave me, if thou gav’st, I’ll stay,
But if you take away my heart, then must thy love stay.
Thy self that makes thee to me the main object,
is the sole object of all my desires.
And thou, whose body beauty gives thee strength,
And thy soul that can bestow me beauty’s power,
The sweet ornament of my heart’s bestow’d love,
Thy love’s sweetest self to me, thy true love to me,
I’ll take away from thee all these things that I love,
And in thee shall I dwell all my beauty’s work:
And therefore will I live in thee and in thy image,
Though thy beauty being so, yet thy form thy self did destroy.
‘”So that thou mayst be my slave, and be freed from servile servitude,
So that I may live in thee, and in thee still live.
As one living thing in thee, the other in thine,
So shall I live as a slave unto thy slave,
Thou hast servile servitude to me, and to the one,
Thou iniquity to all the world doth mock,
And yet in me he reigneth:—
Thy worth shall be thy worth nothing,
And none else’s be thy worth to me.
Yet do not be afraid, my love, if thou be my slave:
I love you with all my might, and with my own might,
For as thy worth being thy worth to me,
Thou my love, if thou be my slave, my worth to thee,
I’ll leave thee, and leave thee alone.
‘So that thou mayst be my slave, and be freed from servile servitude,
Till then, my love, my love, and thy worth together,
Till then thy worth is my slave, and me the worth of thee.
Thou my slave, why dost thou stay still
Sick of that servile prison I will break?
For why dost thou not remain still
For who doth my love remain so long?
When thou hast spent my life in the course of love?
Thou art my true love, thy friend and servant;
Till then I can say no more, but I fear to tell,
And when you shall return, I’ll take thy life,
And spend thou on my body alone.
O, it may seem too soon, that thou dost make my love
Hate my sweet self, and make thy love love
Or my sweet self, and make my love hate thee,
Or my dear self, and make thee my love,
Or both, and make me my love:
Whilst thou art my love, yet


======== CHECKPOINT 037 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Cirin’s name,
The old man was dead and his heir alive.
That boy the Roman nurse once took to be,
When he again was her wife, still he was with her;
And like an unwilling slave, she hiss for his sake;
A river which flows with her own running water,
And in her gentle stream gives drink and rest to rain.
This is true, but for my love it did seem,
That she himself would come to her aid.
“So then my poor dear friend,
As soon as she hears the door being hiked,
The priest, the maid, and the rest
To each and every door in his way come
Hiding their faces, in whose shadow she doth survey
The sad fate of my love:
The boy will not find his way out, and I have no power
To force him there, if he come to me.”
“I love thee, my love,” quoth she, “but if I have thee,
My love shall not be in the way.”
Then sighs she again, and again she adds,
“I was once a woman, and now I a man:
A Roman, a man, a boy, a man with one look,
Hast thou thy self to deceive, and yet thou dost rob me?
O then is love the love of love, not of beauty?
My tears in thy cheeks do fill thee with grief;
O yet they do not overflow thy cheeks,
And in their red, o’erwhelming rain do my tears overflow:
And yet thou wilt keep my tears, for thou hast aught well done,
Whilst I myself in my tears weep still:
The better for my self my tears will be,
As if in those who are most proud of me,
I should blush for my worth being despised,
And make them my friends to be proud of me,
To see those I am so proud of, and so proud of thee,
that they have their own praise by thee:
I do adore thee and you like one,
And therefore would thou be my love, if I could speak to thee,
Like him in his youth and youth of youth.
For I love thee, my love, so love thy state,
That all praise turns to disdain, and all praise to scorn,
And in him the self-same praises,
As if the one should be praised, and the other to scorn.
“Let me tell thee this story, and I’ll give thee more,
And tell thee my story of the day, and I’ll show thee thee night:
Let my story of love, in thee, become another,
And my love’s delight in thee should be greater,
More of thy sweet self, and my love’s delight in thee dull.
‘Thou art my love, my love, when in me thy face shines,
And in me thou dost lie, that thou dost deceive.
When thou art mine, I praise thee, and in me thou dost deceive,
For there thou art the heart that doth sing praises,
And in me thou art thine, and in me thou dost speak.
When thou art mine, I love thee, and in me thou dost lie.
‘Tis lawful to say a poor wretch,
‘She had not but her beauty hid in her hair;
That hid it from view, and so it never was seen.
“Look,” quoth Lucrece, “a maid hath in her a boy,
Or else the sweetest child ever bred,
Her fair hue changing with his new complexion.
‘She was not of the night, or moon,
But was of one like to her self:
And yet all day she did fret about him,
The one near to him was ill,
And night she was much vexed,
To whom she put the other’s body:
For when her eyes would look on the sad spectacle,
she would cry out, ‘O dark night! dark night!’
And then her pale eyes would seem to glow,
Like bright sapphire, like red as night’s blood,
Whose bright hue and colour seemed to melt from the ground,
At night’s shadow, or the hours’ slackness,
As from the sun, to the eye it did appear.
“That poor fool, he will not wake;
And all unprovident eye that hears my words will see,
His false eye that fears the day’s dark night,
Will wink, and in it false sight will set,
And be asunder when it beholds,
And asunder when it perceives night’s night.
No love that should my lips borrow may be,
And never my lips in my heart’s eye ever did borrow,


======== CHECKPOINT 038 OUTPUT # 001 ========

Occasionally to make it as smooth as water,
Whose edge is smooth as snow,
Or crystal as crystal-white marble.
For now she sits by a deep-spring’d tree,
Which with golden bars doth hang her head,
That in her hollow is seen all fair,
Though as glass she hath no eye;
The stars, in their pure hue, in thy sight,
Are white, and in thy sweet glory black.
To-day she goes, but night she doth stay.
‘”To-night, my dear friend,” she says,
“let this be your last; it shall be remembered
As an antique of my youth and youth’s past:
And like a jade, it shall sit upon thee
Like a serpent in the deep ravine;
And all that stands between thee and me shall grow
The deeper thou creep, the deeper thou creep’st me.
For I have not yet seen thee,
And thou art not yet my sight, but thy breath.
Now, lo, I know not what I am,
But thou art not, and I love thee no more;
For my eyes, as their contents are filled,
So thy thoughts and my actuate me,
As if thou thy self were one.
Then, in the general impression of thy face,
By thy fair shape, form, and height are enlarged:
What were before thy sight, now is thy face.
No man that hath seen thee before,
Or ever knew thee, shall ever know
my beauty, nor thy parts nor thy parts’ shape,
Nor thy beauty’s scale shall ever be measured,
Nor thy parts’ size nor their contents ever measured:
But I thy beauty’s scale, thy parts thy parts,
And all my beauty shall remain in one:
So then I was not a god, nor thy being,
But an unadulterated thief,
Who, like an unpolluted devil, would not be so fair,
And not be so gracious in his boastful tongue.
‘Now,’ quoth she, ‘I know nothing of that;
Love, in all my might, hath laid the main,
Which is this to be made for thee,
For thou, thy nature’s store-house, thy art,
And all thy worth, worth is to be made mine;
Then with that, I shall be the true store,
And all, all, with that, I in thee.
“O no,” quoth she, “that couldst thou, to make thee
A storehouse full of tenants,
And store the spoil of thy labour,
For in that store lies the store that thou shouldst grow:
What canst thou then then sell but what is in thine,
And what is thine is thy worth in all this?
Then thou, my loving love, that in thine own will,
Thy self hath defray’d all debt,
And all thy worth in all this, for this is thine.
O how could I, after thy self’s decease,
Be revenged on all that owed thee?
For what part of my worth is my tongue paid?
And in what part of my worth is my soul sent,
Where can I then be put to be revenged,
O what part of that which I owed thee,
How can I then be revenged on thee?
So then what is mine worth that I owe thee,
To do with thee in my thoughts thy harms?
This thought in me, being mad,
O most madman, if thou ever couldst kill me,
My life and my wretched state will be wasted,
And I in the deepest despair shall drown thy name;
Let this be the end of all my thought,
And all this I say, ‘This is not thy self,
Till this is the end, I’ll kill thee all in one.’
To give thee to my eyes a false sight,
And make them blind again as thou art.
‘But as this I prophesy,
Thy power shall soon lose thee and me,
And that in thine might I die in spite of thee;
But if my sin be sin, my life shall seem sweet,
And thou shall be thy fair love, even so shalt thou live.
And thou shalt not live in my death,
Till thou in the power of this will, in my death
In thy dying death thou shalt live, and I thee
Returned to thine own free will, to live in thee.
“Ay, madam,” quoth she, “my fair angel,
From his bed-chamber I may behold
The sad state of a child;
When a mother’s face hath been made sweet,
A father’s gentle groan resounds


======== CHECKPOINT 038 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Book

And every one that would be most kind,
With a certain fee would bequeath’d the deed.
Who had said I should bequeath thee this debt,
Or make thee my slave? I must not have thee,
The love I have for thee is no more;
And therefore the bond I lent thee is no more,
For love was never made to rob, nor to robb;
But what did robb do, did rob him of his gain,
Or put him back to robber once again,
In this robbery, this robbery’s robbing end.
“O pardon me, sweet Collatine, my foul desire!
That you love me, and it is my desire,
That you mean to make me my mistress,
A place wherein you might please me to live,
And where you might be myself to do this:
If you should have me then, you did change my mind;
For what you desired, what you did not,
Found a home with all your might, not an end,
And I to you, my fair possession,
My love to you, my fair-expected end,
Shall live a life of many, but one love,
Which to you best was lived by your own hand.
Now be I not a man too fond,
To boast my worth as far as you can see
As you can live on what is not you.
Or if you can live, my will to live
Being stronger, to love you stronger,
To hate you to hate me, I hate you to hate.
For I am strong, and your strength is not
Against me so great a threat is.
If you think that my self-love is strong,
I hate you for you, and you for you.
I will, then, stand before your eyes,
And prophesy your doom: my love will not stop
The tide that turns the world from me.
Even so, my soul will not wake from thee,
My soul will not wake, my soul will not wake.
My body’s doom is as one that wakes from thee.
My soul’s doom is my doom alone:
Mine body’s doom is that of mine alone:
My body’s doom is to make mine own doom,
My body’s doom to leave thee and never be gone.
‘My soul!’ quoth she, ‘now thy body hath gone,
Mine own self to live with thee in disgrace;
And now thy self to live with me in disgrace
In his body I’ll live, and be thy self again,
And thy self to be my self still again.
‘”And thou gav’st not a flower that ever grew in me,
What canst thou but praise, and know not where it lies,
That thou canst see it grow in me in youth,
For it never dies, yet never sheds thy light,
And never in thy body is it dead,
That every bower might the morning gently sing.
Whence shall our praise be, that thou so lov’st
The sick that we love in our infirmities?
Whence shall our praise be, that thou so lov’st?
Whence shall our praise be, that thou so lov’st,
that thou so lov’st such sweet love,
That thou so lov’st such a barren tomb?
Whence shall our praise be, that thou so lov’st,
That thou so lov’st such a barren tomb?
whence shall our praise be, that thou so lov’st?
Then, like an old-fac’d lamb, thou art so sweet,
That he still doth chide thee, ‘Grim trespass,
I will not hie thy love, though thou kiss my tongue.
‘That he, that done by him so lov’d,
May be dead, and my love alive again.
My love’s life, my dear love’s life,
Is but a shadow that doth live in me.
It never did survive
Even in the bosom of her womb;
Till now her pale womb is free again,
And the fresh leaves, platted in the spring,
Which to the ripe buds give the flowers their colour.
‘So shall she sing, ’tis true, I love her,
And she in tears, like a flood-god that doth flood;
‘So shall she cry, ‘Lo, my love, the water hath done,
My tears did not wash my tears from my cheek,
Nor did the world’s fair rain wash away the tears.
So shall she cry, ‘Lo, my love, the time hath ended,
The world hath endued thee, my tears have dried my tears.
Let him not say, ‘O love, thy self is


======== CHECKPOINT 038 OUTPUT # 003 ========

asteroids as soon as the light of day should show his face;
And I the day, that my sun hath done his work,
Will not be left here to spend my days smiling,
Nor in the mansion of my love to behold.
What shall I say? O what will not I say,
To all the world that knows my heart’s beauty?
For me, love can do me good;
Love’s eyes, which I know to be foul,
Came at my heart’s content, and made them hate me,
Though mine own eyes did give them life,
As the wind did her brambles to cheer him on,
Nor the sun that doth his bright colour batt’ry hie
Whereon by clouds her beauty makes his fair shine:
Her sweet grace hath his fair parts to compare,
For in the fair place, his fair beauty shines.
How dare he in vain tell my love is gone,
And come to me with all that I have,
With cold and disdain beguile me to think on thee.
For if love be dead, I will be alive.
Look what a fool a careless heart such a brain,
could say. Let not his counterfeiters be counted,
The eyes that make his face, his tongue that speaks,
Or his brain that thinks himself to speak,
Have done him honour for his decease.
‘Poor creature,’ quoth she, ‘this deed is lawful,
The bastard of such a mother’s lust.
For that which I love, though against my will it be slain,
What I want, nothing can be desired of thee,
But this will the bastard yield, and thou shalt have.
‘That my love should kill me if thou shalt leave me,
That my love should kill me if thou shalt live with me,
And that my love should kill me if thou shalt live with me,
I in thee, thy heart, thy soul, thy will,
My will is to leave thee, to leave thee alone,
That’s to be done, by my will in thee being done.
O what a wretched state my love is!
What a wretched state my will be!
What a wretched state my will be!
‘O my love, why should I be silent
When all the world knows my will is broken?
Or would I have sought to express myself,
By being present with him in his bed?
Or were I not in his bed, when he did moan?
Or had my dear love come to him, yet there he is,
His beauty hath no body to change;
Therefore he takes no pleasure in my tears,
And yet all my lovely beauty, all my matter
So do thy will seem to my sweet-pleading eyes,
That they wonder at thy trespass, and be glad.
Whence then are you, that so lov’d in me?
Thy love, when thou livest, mayst live again,
Thy will may live again to-morrow,
Thy will, that makes thy will live, is thine.
For this thy will I will prove,
Thy will is thine, and I the rest of this world.
This my will thou willst prove,
Thy will thy will prove, and I the rest of this world.
‘O shame to the proud Roman,
Make me believe that my love’s absence is so great,
And my love’s absence the worse for it:
For what the Greeks had done to me,
I still have the same sense of shame.
Love’s love is true, and all other passions are
False, like spirits impiety to men.
What is love, then, when it is not made
To dwell upon the thing it in is angry?
Where is love when it thinks it loves none?
What is it that is so mean, so vile,
That is not so nice but in the least
Hath no right to hold it, or say it is?
How can I love when my own will alone is strong,
If my own will alone hath force to make me hate,
Thou must be my slave, even then I will do,
And I must leave thee alone in this hell.
If then thou wilt find me, there’s no excuse,
I’ll do thy will, and take no leave,
And let the devil be king, and leave me alone.
And if thou wilt find me, then stay thy hand,
Thy will is my will, and I your will,
I’ll be your poor mother’s and not your good will,
Since thou art my slave, and be thy good graces.
My love is true, and all other passions are
True, and all other passions are false;
For what the Greeks had done to me,


======== CHECKPOINT 038 OUTPUT # 004 ========

decree, ’tis well known;—I had th’aunt to know it well.
The woman, not in her power, fearing lest some foul crime befall her,
Hath drawn from her, and hath fled,
As from the herd; so she with Collatine,
To kiss and fondle the fair Lucrece and the bateless
Of her doting husband, should the guilty kill her.
“If thou wilt,” quoth he, “my soul shouldst die before thou leave,
I would kill thee, and yet thy body shalt live
To know thy sin and to cure thee of it.
Thou mak’st love to her like a mortal lock;
Her lips a whit red with poison’d water,
As if by it some foul fiend had swerve,
Which as it flowed into the channel
Of her lips’ melting boughs, she could not breathe;
She could not hear his cries, but the cries’ foul intent
Was so deaf it did utter a thousand hollows,
And in their foul haste had time lost,
Where every part of her world’s store had been
Possessed, all, to one or another place.
As a poor tomb which once stood in thy hand
Doth now stand a thousand times replete:
Her eyes have no closure, and therefore can no light,
Seems to wither, and die like a fading man.
When thou art dead, the world will wink and smile.
If the sun return to his light,
What beauty have I seen of thee from the grave?
How have I seen thy face in my pride,
And done with that beauty my crime?
If in my pride I did do thy fair deed,
What was thy self worth in the deed,
And do thy proud deeds to increase thy rank?
Then are those thoughts which I had the good sense,
Which through thy thoughts in my good pleasure make,
That in my good pleasure should make me better!
For love in love doth lose itself, and in it be made again:
Such love doth lose itself again, to give it again,
Or like a dying painter he makes it anew:
He makes it anew, and again doth it die.
To this self doth it boast, that it doth shine.
How, like an old-killing bat, doth it fear the day,
Doth it fly from the bright sky, the day being late,
And thus the foul night doth blot out the sky?
“And by these lines he adds the meaning of night,
He says ’twas sweet, and ’twas sweet, and ’twas harsh,
That in his thoughts ’tis all praise and no blame;
For to praise the proud deeds of his hand
he must show a deep-piercing pride,
And in his constant frown it shall grow;
When in his pride it shall grow, it shall show youth,
And pride in him shall grow age,
And pride in me shall grow pride of thine.
If thou wilt take away my love, I will not take away
From thee all thy beauty that doth lie
In my love’s place, my love’s treasure and thy shame.
Love in me will not steal thy light,
Mine eye hath no sun, my ear no ear,
Mine eye hath thee no sight, my ear no taste,
Mine eye hath thee and me both naked,
And like a sad-tuned dove I stay mute,
Nor let my sorrow in thy quiet make thee better:
For when in thy grief I have said,
All my shame and all my grief’s waste I leave,
And thou my treasure thou shalt live in my heart.
But if my treasure be thy shame,
Thy shame shalt live in my shame, my heart my heart’s loss.
‘Then from the blue water of my Lucrece I stood,
Which, lo, the grype’s hue was as dull as day;
Whence, Tarquin, did she catch the hare,
To kiss the sweet flower that had budded therein?
Thy dear love doth like that doth make him gush,
And he gush forth the dewy blood.
But being woken, her hand did invert,
And the wound which it bore upon it did seem
Gripping out, as from a dream, the wound,
Which the painter did not intend;
But, seeming to tear, the bleeding wound began anew,
The wound that should have been wound forth again
Shook it anew again, and, swelling more,
With this swelling swelling he gazeth,
And, lo, the wound that should have been gazeth again
Gazeth again, and again the


======== CHECKPOINT 038 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Florence is she of the earth and of the heaven.
‘So she hath been with my youth,
And my youth with her.
‘O love, be of more than one mind,
But be of one mind at all times:
The one’s true mind is to be remembered,
And his false mind to be hated,
Which is his false image to deceive the world.
‘Since he was love, this thy reason shall know,
And from him the poor infant that loves thee,
From him his heart I may return,
And with him my love shall dwell with thee.
And this I will do; and when he finds me,
With more than idle talk I’ll make him angry.
‘Well then, sweet man, if your fame were so great,
One day thou shalt appear, or else one day thou shalt vanish,
And then the matter will be your own;
Then with a sigh the sickly boy will take his way,
And tomorrow they will be together dead.
My spirit’s pride was first bred in scorn;
That pride so heavy may seem a thing rare,
To be eclipsed with all the other’s dust.
‘But in this respect the sun hath his glory,
That his heavenly glory should shine for ever.
“Ay, well,” quoth she, “since you were born,
I’ll be thy maid and maid of love.
When you are old, where are you going?
Or where will you live?
Or where will you live soon after?
Then come I to my self-love, and in spite of you,
I’ll take care of you and spend all my time;
To be gone for nothing, for you are my state.
And now the wind, the sun’s shade,
Who doth rain down a kindling of fear,
And turns for his fair queen, to bathe her in mud;
The sun, in a fair rage, doth burn down every fair flower,
Which from his huge brim doth extend;
And when the flood-gates of his fair temple are driven,
The mud upon which the earth sits is drained;
And then a flood-bed that feeds all the earth,
And every coral fountained in all beauty:
Whose sinews his fair flowers, all whose fresh flowers doth
Reserve his bounteous bounty, who doth not scorn
His name, his beauty, nor his worth so much:
Or else his worth, his fame, his majesty,
His fair beauty, his virtue, his beauty’s worth,
Will not steal thy virtue from him alone.
But the better part of thine is so set
That nothing is worth but thy worth’s part.
And so his lordship with a feast doth
Demand a little treasure in thy chamber,
Where, supposing thy body was liv’d,
Thy office could not, with thy life or youth;
Yet thou couldst be my love for ever.
thou that dost entertain all those that are dead,
For I did summon thee, and by thy help
Will make thy life so holy that thou wast not slain.
‘For behold, my face thou shalt see,
And in thy hollow my heart will answer all the call.
‘So shall the plague of the night come,
And with an iron hand shall I wail the day,
Who in his fair fair fair mansion by the bay
Is his foul mistress, as it were his slave.
‘I have said this,’ quoth she, ‘I did say it was true.’
‘Then prove I not untrue; but be sure,
That it is true, and it is not false;
For no fair is so fair as thou wast born of,
But of his fair fair fair state, and of his fair lord,
His fair lordship, his fair state, his fair lordship,
Sets all with an iron hand that by force of arms doth kill him;
And then by an iron hand doth call him to be:
Who doth lend him all his strength, and bids him use it
As much treasure in him as thou gav’st to borrow;
Thy will, and thou that will, give all of them.
Thy will, and thou that will, give all of them.
The one hand that did give, the other hand did remove;
The one held the other’s right, and the other the other
‘Loose tied, the other tied the other’s loincloth.’
When all these, for the first time,
To both he had held the one and the other,
As the first time from thine own right,
He came in thine own right and was loathed,
The other in his own right was loathed and loathed.
His


======== CHECKPOINT 039 OUTPUT # 001 ========

pool from thence it travels with Lucrece to Troy, where she finds a captive-beached boar who will not tame her: she lends her knife, and strikes him dead.
So she subdues him, and with her nails she begins to kill,
Making no resistance with her blunt-footed speed;
Her lips, in tears, the air breaks from their bright colour,
And a desperate groan ensues;
‘Fool,’ quoth Lucretius, ‘you will not break these bones;
For that I do vow, you must not break my vow;
For when I speak, mine eyes shall behold me weeping;
Thou mayst but blush at my misdeeds,
And thou wilt say, ‘Tis true I am dumb.’
‘O gracious lord! in thy sweet womb are bred
A purer womb and a purer child,
And I in thee was born a bastard child,
To kill and be buried alive in your mother’s womb.
‘But beauteous thou shalt not love another,’ quoth she,
And yet she must be buried with him:
The grave-wandling queen says, ‘But where are you buried?
Cease thy desperate urge, and stop the bleeding.
‘My dear boy, my beloved, let me pause
The moment of your parting to set an end,
To spend your present hours in the task at hand.
Look what beauty in death doth stand;
My body is alive and well to decay,
That in death’s wake doth make me forsake thee.
That thou shalt in the least time live in sin shall live,
And death, thy greatest sin, shall reign in thine.
‘My dear boy, my beloved, let me pause
The moment of your parting to set an end,
To spend your present hours in the task at hand.
‘What sorrow do I owe thee that I have
To live and die for thee? what comfort do I owe thee
That I live to die in thee so long?
Why didst thou not look on me before
When I had every right to look on thee,
And now, as death feeds on the helpless babe,
My love-killing breath doth give vent to her moan,
Like a cloud that falls on a wet day,
Or the wind that blows on the sea,
Or the sun that shines on the east.
‘Tis true that I have many enemies to contend
With my fair self, and in a league with him;
That my self to himself hath no self-inflicted shame,
And so to myself my self shall live,
But to him I shall live but for the self-love.
“To win me,” quoth she, “I must kill a thousand times,
And yet be dead before I am slain;
For why should I kill myself in vain?
To win him I must take the coward out of me,
And live a king I did despise,
And yet to live and die for that I do love.
What I in the picture doth do in the mind
That shows me to be his, what in him appears
Sits me in his true shape, and in his shadow,
Sits me in his false state, where there appears
his true self, and in the false parts;
And where his parts have but one part, the other
sits and lies by his side, and stares,
Like a slave to the controlling master;
When he sees her she grieves him, and she cries out for him,
And calls him “sweetie.”
‘But ’tis me,’ quoth she, ‘that you mean,
To curse the day I’ll spend in idle hours,
And to torment the next with nightly weariness.
‘”This night,” quoth she, “once I saw a pretty boy,
Showing so little youth in the world,
Playing with his plaything in mud;
Thy lips are red, thy nose black, thy cheek green,
And my heart a ruddy mess of whiteness,
Whose proud bristles do enclose thy body;
The other cheek is white, the other his own,
Whose sad little blood doth bear the blame:
Who, seeing me die, should say “No.”
“Ay no,” quoth he, “but this I have seen
Till now I have told the tale.”
Then she shakes her head; and quoth, “My love,” quoth she, “this hurt;
Thou canst not kiss me, and yet I cannot.
Whilst I was yet your master, now my mistress,
And in the sweetest sense now your mistress,
What beauty canst thou in my bosom bear,
To put away,


======== CHECKPOINT 039 OUTPUT # 002 ========

collabor at each other’s feasts!
But I must confess my graces unto you are as great:
Their colour may not cure the sick,
Nor cure the blind,
For who in their state of mind
Works for sight or hearing but with blind eyes,
Unless they could show it to thee,
Like himself, as he doth in his place,
Or in others by their wills.
And that false eye that looks for a god,
Will forsworn his promise, nor his majesty,
And they with false love are as deceiv’d:
The weak-neck’d wretch will kiss his hand,
And when the wretch’s lips have full open,
To kiss his honour, he will kiss back again,
For fear of his honour’s being seen,
To kiss his honour again himself will be untied.
I say unto you now, the day will not wear out;
But night, whereon the sun hath shade,
And whereon night the stars shine,
The day will now bear the blame, and night the glory
Of my careless neglect of my care.
“How dost thou go, madman?”
“For where thou shalt find Tarquin.”
This poor beast, so grossly corrupted,
Will not seem so: but when he appears,
In his foul state of mind, with eyes like worms,
Will smile at his wits, and say “O pity me,”
And lo, this sweet love, he is no better.
‘Thus Tarquin begets me again, ‘Will,’ I say:
If thou wilt win, let me borrow thy hand;
Let it be my life and thee thy tomb:
With a kiss shall I live and be thy tomb.’
“That he shall not leave his prisoner alive,”
For if he do, shall we be his prey?
The tiger will bear him not away;
But if he do, let him stay;
I’ll do all that I can to catch him.
‘So Tarquin comes, and kneels by the way;
His brow is full of sighs and groans,
And low his voice gives them the deep impression
Of an infant crying for his mother’s sake.
My dear son, I know thee still cannot die,
And yet I am thy executor still;
To die with you is all I desire;
I am but mortal, and therefore cannot bear to live,
Nor yet die with you.
The world and the world’s own will,
And therefore cannot bear you to die.
Love dies alone, and the world, and still
Are not equals, but only befriends us.
In him this brief present lies
And beauty in languishment,
By the eyes that see with their sad eyes
The world, with grief and dreading mourn,
Sits all at once at his ill-favour’d end,
And doth fight, till he can no longer breathe;
A second time she calls out for him,
And he answers her sadly;
And now she adds that his fame is new,
And in that time more than ever he’s in want,
The world’s eye doth watch over his,
The world doth pity her, but pity his eye;
The world doth pity his heart, but his heart doth weep;
A third time he doth laugh and cry;
A fourth time he neighs, yet still cries “O none of you,”
And then he doth begin:—
‘And now she in a dim cave where dwells
Her dead husband’s blood, or else his spirit,
Methinks it fair and just to borrow his breath;
The blood he drops on her face will never stain;
The tears he makes will flow again in his eyes;
He takes to himself the power
Of the universe, which to his care
Lends it his supreme stamp, the best part,
To make him immortal; that is to say,
To breed some son or a daughter, of his name.
“That I may bequeath this fair title to thee,
And to this I shall owe your name:
And to you I owe your right,
And by this I will be your slave for ever.
‘”Fair,’ quoth she, ‘as thou shalt not be,
My love is thy bond, and I thee all.
‘Fair, gentle, and kind,
All the best, all the worst! and I thee all,
To be, I will hold you no longer.
This was but the last straw for me,
And all the rest was nothing but a tale:
Yet now I wake with that which I have sought,
And love is like an hour out of mind:
To do my part, I will do thy part,
To do thee


======== CHECKPOINT 039 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Po from his breast,
And like a leper from the trees,
Hath crept so quickly from a pine steed
To the crest of a mountain rising there:
And now the sun hath fled in darkness from his face,
And in the green of night he hath climbed,
As from a heavenly high place.
‘”His handkerchief, round it hangs his long beard,
Which he doth not cover, yet by him affords
A view, so perfect that it needs no light:
Yet why thyself to-day thou hast done me injury,
When thou art, I love thee so much more than thou art,
Than I did when thou wilt be gone.
‘”I was, and still am, and still I am;
The present, I had not been, and still am;
I was your mother and your father,
Your dear maid and my true love:
That you now are dead, have no memory of me.
‘For shame and grief I was beguiled;
By now the knife was sharp, and no defence could do him end,
But, lo, in that dark prison, where no knife may be,
he thinks it lawful to kill him.
“He lies, like a lamb, on the ground,
Like a lion being kept in the dark.
‘So shall I wail my woes if ever thou dost use,
Whilst I in this guilty humour endure,
So shall you all in one, and make the day sweet
Of the one, and the other dreadful.”
‘Thus concludes he, till he with more pain renews:
At last she sigh’d and threw the drops of her blood,
And cold steel struck her that her joints did tremble;
And now Lucrece’ eyes in grief fill her eyes,
And when she beholds that her eyelids are blind,
Her cheeks are full of tears and wrack’d with sweat,
Her arms about her hips as if she were dead,
Her chin with a wringing motion distills them:
‘My grief I did not know but from thy lips
Was that your love might deceive the world;
But now I know thou art thy dear love:—
Thou hadst been with me long, my love is fading,
To leave my loving arms and to go alone.
‘”Now I see some ghastly sight
Between his brows aching as one,
Which at first looks pale, but quickly melts,
like a cloud having fled from a spring
Paling on the pale, and in the air it doth fly,
Whose smoke doth fill the air with fresh air.
O what a sight it was! then that he did fly,
From his bosom the cloud did catch him by the neck,
And from his cheek the whirlwind doth fly,
Which on that cloud his hand did raise
Was not yet so green as now it was,
To this moment it stood as an earthly devil,
And in the clouds asunder he flew.
O what a shame that her eyes were full of tears,
And her eyes were so pale with blood!
If this heaven-god should touch her cheek,
She would cry aloud in his place,
And kiss him in his eyes, and hold fast to your will,
The one fair will, which gives us so much of joy
To look on you, to be buried beside,
When we have died to the sight so loved,
For that which in you we call still remains so,
With that which in others so rich still.
O have I heard many such stories tell me,
Which seem more true, and true words still better
By expressing thy woe to my love,
Since you are so dear to me, and I to thee.
O therefore love should change, when change seems
To change from true to true,
When in thought, as in deed, is alteration,
Love is love from the thing it is,
And love from the thing it is,
Gives it life, and death eternal.
From this it seemed that he had fled thence,
And, in the night, did fly away.
For in the night he would fly away again,
To take up his prey in a foul-smelling cloud;
Then would he fly, but in the morning he fly’d back,
When every part of his body was shaken by wind,
The leaves began to bud, as when a rose did bud,
And all beauty fled forth to die.
But as she did the angel take from her,
To kiss the base of her head, he kissed the base of her head,
Which in this way did he fondly ride,
Which as soon as he got close to the saddle,
The rider


======== CHECKPOINT 039 OUTPUT # 004 ========

easiest to do, and yet he makes no remedy till he have done.
‘How shall she say good night to him? she will say good night, good night.’
And, as they say, he shakes his head, and in that he sounds;
And Lucrece with rage, she is wont to do his hurt,
For she did give them thy help.
When he looks upon her, she turns pale,
And when he looks upon her eyes, she brightens even more;
She in a smile so pale, his heart befriends her eyes.
She looks, she blushes, her face looks like fire;
The coal-black blood that is the blood that flameeth here
Doth burn in the airy chamber which she was so afraid.
She shakes her head, looks at him,
and with trembling fingers she spied the thing
She had not seen before, as soon as she saw her;
She hath seen now and then, yet,
She thinks that she saw no such thing in the day;
But now she knows it is an invention of the mind,
And it being painted in some strange book,
To give the impression of some other creation,
As in some dream or in some fancy.’
‘”Now with my mother’s help I climb the churls’ nest,
And down I’ll catch them by the hand, and catch them again;
And so I till they’re all dead, fall asleep again.
‘”If thou wilt be the first to wake up,
Who wert thou the first to wink, and then wink again?
Why do I wake up in dreams and dream in dreams
Of things past, things to come, and yet I still have
Nothing but fleeting minutes and fleeting hours:
And yet for my dear love’s sake must I wake,
Since my dear love needs no rest now to dwell,
for my sake my heart will not rest,
Nor I my life’s purpose will ever be free.
The day will then be a grim time, the night a warm night.
‘Look, I have no love in thee but that which grows;
And yet love is kind, though in me I feel cold.
‘And yet why love be kind, yet I in love feel cold,
for pity’s sake he lives and he leaves.
‘And yet why love be kind, yet I in love feel cold,
The poor little thing, that he touches, dies cold,
And death in me is all my shame, all my shame.’
So his thought she on his part did amend,
Like an old friend that once knew
His worth was all in her making,
And now he will be fond, and in me old friend.
Her voice is strong and sweet, and seems to make it go;
Her eyes are swift, their wrinkles dark,
And their hot desire are like bright candles.
‘”So be it: thou art the sweetest of all the children,
And yet to this day I boast thou didst kill.
What proud act did that mean?
Who were more worthy than any man in this?
But for my sake, I will not live to boast,
As others did in their prime,
Though we all be proud and glory in our youth.
If thou be the good-bonned one, I will lend thee a hand;
Thou are the true love and thou my love,
And for my sake in all things do live,
I will do thee good as well, as thou hast,
That is, a thousand times better than the same;
For even in thy sweetest guise thou art despised,
And I for thee shall live in envy,
And in thy false disgrace will make thee worse,
Which thou then in thy true youth,
Thy self will do my slander to grow:
So do I in my false glory now,
Thy self in my slander will make thee better:
‘Lo this, thou hast deceived my sister,
The truth must not enter her lips.
She may complain of his absence, but she hears him;
He must not spoil the peace of his moans;
The knife must not ravish his youthful vigour;
No, no, let him speak of my mistress’ age;
And there the maid hath a wound, and he doth answer
The woman’s wound, and she her grief makes clear.
She hath weeping water on her cheek,
Which on the blood being shed, appears new life;
She breathes it forth again, and there her eyes
Are filled with tears, like crystal balls.
This she did enchant, so her heart did love.
‘Had I not,’ quoth she, ‘her lips had never touched mine,
And now I suck, yet never have they felt.’
‘What’s


======== CHECKPOINT 039 OUTPUT # 005 ========

stereotyp the deep fear,
Which, like a creeping phoenix, doth rise up in the sky;
And in his flight he makes many a cloud,
Which like a dove doth leap from the sky,
And in a vapour he flies,
And in his vapours in vapours he flies.
‘Now this was the hour,’ quoth he, ‘and he that could,
In the burning coal of his soul he heats
The fire by burning with coal burned by fire;
And therefore this time he sleeps;
And now in his waking hours do I dream of his night.
‘This verse had many a character,
From fairytale to tragic, from tragic author.
‘To Tarquin,’ quoth she, ‘these two hours I sought,
To make thee my muse of my love;
Love of my self, thou art mine, my muse alone.
This sweet love which the world to itself bestowth,
I have no argument with thee, for love did spend,
Thy spirit did give thine, and thine gave to love,
And to my love thy sweet substance gave life.
In this the picture of love and reason,
To both my self and others was the story,
That in themselves there are but imperfect forms,
But in their goodly qualities so seem,
Than in thy evil qualities, thy goodness seem:
My self, my self, the bad nature are,
That do my self harm, and all my good in,
And in my goodness all things are but mixed,
Even where in thy self thou art, that thou art
No such thing as thou dost lie,
Which is thy self, and not to be harmed by me:
O no, no, no, no, no, do not think that I have this meaning,
And this is an act of pure fear,
To cause fear and dread in thy self;
And sometime it doth, and there it appears:
Myself in this strange fright, my friend in fear;
And in this fright he doth contrive to put me,
In his own image, put in his shape,
And for thy sake his own part of my sight.
‘”That which was but a piece of stone,
Or a tomb, or a steep hill,
Or any place where men would entertain them,
But was the possession of one, the other their mind.
That they might make their wills more strong,
They should live as gods, where they should live,
But be gods, for life, and death,
The dead were never gods again.
‘”But that he might see what was in the other,
He doth in it aspire, and in it find delight,
Or at least, to some semblance, he doth comment,
‘That his own invention might bestow so good a light,
Whilst, mine own invention would bear his invention waste,
Or, that mine own invention bear his invention waste,
That mine own invention are made so much more dear,
And thy living invention as thy living invention is better,
That he hath more advantage over me in this,
I will prove the other way, to your acceptance,
From this thy image thou shalt get.”
And now she shakes hands in the air,
Like one in love that is defeated,
To make her moan more, till his tears are gone,
He stops her, and throws her in the fire;
And yet she still exclaims, “O how sweet a sweet-smelling fire
May burn thee so, and so shalt thou dry.”
In that she says, ‘O sweet child! Love doth give light to the eye;
Though blind it cannot see what is in it.
For in the flame which it burns, there appears
A certain semblance of truth, an element
of truth quite different from colour;
Like a smokeless rose, whereon one vapour droppeth,
The other in the air doth disperse,
From one to another, varying the hue.
The one vapour that hath touched her hand,
Is pale, the other pale, both white:
Then do not blame me if my palm is stained crimson;
Thou art the fairest woman that ever lived,
But when the time is past my fair queen’s summer,
If thou my fair queen, willst thou ever live another,
Or shouldst thou my fair queen return to me?
If so, shall not I then return again,
But shouldst thou return I will return again,
In thy self, but in thy self thou shouldst not be my friend.”
But the more her voice breaks, the less she is;
And when she sings the theme of sweet love,
Her eyes are filled with tears, and the clouds


======== CHECKPOINT 040 OUTPUT # 001 ========

murderer, and all her kindred with thee;
She that hath more is esteemed god,
Than she herself being, whose power is none’.
This theme she sets forth in another register,
As if some one told her this truth:
So they proceed together like madam,
Making merry by themselves, for they see
The very thing they have done wrong, and wish they could do
Another; and with this repetition
That we can begin to surmise the past.
If you see her like herself in dreams,
In dreams make them like me in deeds,
And you by thy deeds shall know how true I am.
Let it not be imagined, that she was with men,
Thy love’s mistress, and that was thy wife.
“So be it, my lady, that she sees thee,
But if thou take thy leave of her,
Thy body art a wilderness where the fresh plants
May pollute thy youth and thy youth’s dead.
In thee my part were many forms altered,
And yet thou wast no shape at all;
To this I have added the following tidings,
Or at least, from the perspective of some,
Thy form did my heart but imitate,
And for this thy fair name in mine image,
O! my shame thou dost excuse my blemish!
O! pity on thy fair heart, that thou art so blunter!
This Tarquin, this poor slave, this tyrant,
Till he bring back down to life the old maid,
And when all the rest had rest, the thief would say
“Ay lord, be quiet and be not angry.”
Ay my lord, be not mad, for I have no words to say;
But be mute, and be not mad at me;
And if by that, foul Venus, that so call’d
Shall be thy foe, to whom thou wilt show me how:
But be wise and true as thou art,
And so shall never be tempted to make me hate thee.”
But love cannot but seem to lose her,
for love it seems as though she have vanished,
She being gone, hath but to do her worst;
Her eyes are open’d, her hair tied,
Her lips dangle like hooks in water;
Her eyes like crystal spheres open like night-wanderers’ hooks,
She looks down on him with a wail,
And often exclaims, “What a shame it is!”
But love knows no shame in losing sight;
To lose sight is like losing one’s sense,
And in such a state we shun all good:
That which it seeks, by removing,
is for our love replete with defect.
‘Yet now I read that the Roman gods
Enacted a strict chastity law,
That if a man in thine own right
Became a wife to him, then ’tis my duty
To groom him with chastity oaths and vows.
What I have said is true, all in all my life.
“To fight the devil, to kill the king,
To slay the prince,
To betray the state, to betray the good,
To betray my self, to betray my country,
To betray all my love, all my world, all my world’s place,
And all my dear life and all my dear love shall live,
And live to kill another, and still another,
If that kill whom I am destined to kill,
With others I shall not hate and then die.”
So that, in that time, the time, and the place
Which she compares to her own time,
Till now she looks upon it from her breast,
And to her breast the colour of desire
Seems pale, and yet, despite of all, remains still.
Her face is full of sorrow, as it were full of joy:
And as she looks upon it, the blood stops,
And that full of rage at this sight
Is diverted and drowns her in such an uproar.
She sits by the fire, frowning upon it,
And with sorrow’s fire she begins to burn it.
So long thus, my poor darling,
Her eyes the better to see that the wound is close,
And with her tears she begins again: “Oise! what’s wrong?”
“Oise,” quoth she, “all is well with thee;
And with thy continual complaining make my heart bleed.”
The more she cries, the harder she must be;
Hisses, hisses and neighs and groans,
Her ears, like pitchy hollows, sheeps, hisses,
The more hisses, the harder she must be;
Like a heavy-hanging stone she doth ride,
To put all the world in her way, and yet


======== CHECKPOINT 040 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Patreon of the time, as to be absent from this feast so long, forlorn at thy part:
For thou, in thy youth, and in thy youth’s dimness,
Yet seem’d to wander forth alone from thy gate,
From thy place, that thou mayst never wane:
And all this she fears lest thy love might stain thee with more:
Her eyes are fair, and their fair hue their quality;
But her true brow, which she calls nymphs’ eyes,
Shows none, but in the pure, crystal line,
That to the eye thy picture is best known.
O then what hope did mine eye, which did make thee shine
Appear in the form of a maiden,
Upon thy cheeks, like to the painter’s seal,
Grew a little more red than before,
And blushing more, as if from some holy fire.
thou wast the fairest, thou dost not despise;
But where thou art, it shall not profit thee
To live that which thou dost abuse,
Yet to die by this robbery will keep thee here.
I will not be a stranger to thee now,
For when the sun shall wake up his golden head,
His glory shall live in thy show,
And in it shall dwell his golden fortune.
The day that my dear love was slain,
And my youth was slain, and my life lost
When all my life’s fair fame of youth
Was blown away by an invisible hand,
And to thy unkindness still in my sight,
With this I think as if an eternal gulf
Appear’d me when I rose up, that I might weep.
So are thou now as I am now:
For now I know thee best, and I know thee worse.
If thou gav’st to steal my life,
My flesh would not let thee know it.
This said, her brows did incline downward,
Like a dying eagle, whereon it doth fly,
Which, by her side, obeys the sway,
Which at first doth flap her wings in both haste,
When, in seeming amaz’d, they in turn doth fly again.
So her thoughts and their replies do abide,
And in her thoughts and their replies do abide,
O how the best may be, in love’s best judgement.
Her face with a heavy blush greets thee,
And from her lip she doth utter a little hoot;
With either’s voice or her lips’ contents mix:
For oftentimes there are two tongues willing,
Which one speaks well of the other’s case,
And often both to both sets their stories well:
For in love’s praise, both lips to both tongues well speak.
Then would she say, ‘O sister,’ a child,
Grew up to this age sweet, though with youth old,
yet still she loves her, and yet it is
A child, and she cannot bear it;
Till in her childish tongue it rhyme,
And in another, far worse form than before.
‘Twixt thine eye and thy lips are three;
For in mine eye is love and in mine lip is wrath;
Yet in thy heart are thine two extremes;
Whose foul, black, and bloody parts are one in the face.
“Why hast thou made me this journey?” quoth he, “be my witness,
That thou shalt see my troubles, my woes, my sorrows.
The night, pale as snow, doth she behold my sorrow;
And thou hast seen this dark place, where I abide,
And this dark place doth lie still,
And as thy thoughts doth make it appear
With ghastly beauty that thou dost inhabit,
The thought that thy thoughts should in my thoughts deceive me,
And thereby, through my thoughts, my suffering be,
My suffering be thy suffering be thy suffering be.
Thy heart with thine own desire will, my heart with my heart,
The world’s fair heart being made lawful,
The world’s fair heart being unjust,
The world’s fair heart being not fair,
My heart my heart is fair, and mine my heart is black.
Let us then, on the thirteenth day,
Be holy unto those whom thou dost confound,
And let us make our feasts unto those.
Here are the hours, here are the seasons, here are the seasons cool.
The sun is out, the wind is in, the wind in,
The rain stops, the morn and the wind is in,
Let not my verse be so kind as to be harsh
As to have the effectual effect;
But thou art the more divine, that all things are made unto thee.
And when thou wilt say


======== CHECKPOINT 040 OUTPUT # 003 ========

‘) of his own free will.
He is not the slave of his will,
To obey the will of others.
In this he commends the painter,
For she makes such the semblance
Of his face, and his parts appear more.
He that hath painted a pretty face, yet his mind still doth look,
Which in his true face is painted all new.
The more the painter is with you, the better doth seem,
To your own composition of your days.
‘But now a nun comes and weeps,
Beside her maid that is yet sleeping,
To lend her some aid; but none so kind as these,
To help her by her ill-doing maid,
As to lend her some kind of help, but do nothing,
If a true friend should lend her some help.
‘Lo, as she sleeps, my hand is bent forward,
to make her desire seem greater
In a thousand ways she thinks her thoughts enlarged;
For her desires seem more enlarged in me.
The poor poor wretch that she is,
With a little grief doth her tears commence.
‘O! thou thy fair flower! thy fair colour,
What dost thou steal from that sweet flower?
Let none be afraid, for thou wast in love with her,
And then for this thou wilt restore to her.
And what of the flower, shall I say?
Thy sweet ornament, though it bear thy name,
Thy self to this false flower be corrupted?
thou mayst see in this my bad angel,
Sweet angel that thou through my love dost deceive,
When through thee my love dost thou use to prove
Truth in the light of night, or night in hell?
Thy self to these false roses shouldst thou make such
As thyself in thy sweet beauty didst beguile?
Whilst I in thee, through thy sweet parts dost deceive,
By thy good parts thou in me make such blest,
That if thou shouldst wither thou wilt live to see.
thou dost so use this life and this treasure,
That no mortal man should take it
Where thou dost live, that thou dost spend it?
‘So Tarquin, thy self in this, is extinct,
The time is past when I can tell thee how
To spend my weary absence in thee,
From me your love, and from hence I shall go.
Yet I, thy most beloved, do thy wonted will,
To keep my promise, and keep from wrongs thee.
“Why hast thou forsook me?” “Thou betray’st me, thou traitor,
If that thou mightst forswore not to speak.”
So replies Tarquin, “Thyself doth defy thee,
And yet thou dost not defy me with thy will.”
If thou wouldst, be a part of this,
A part which thou dost be without a name,
A true name to the west, and east both
Of things to be.?”Thy nature’s form should in her name
Be confounded with a hideous thing,
In her image shouldst thou be rul’d to stand,
And thus to prevent thee from gaining speed
A thousand faults and extremes should be
Between thee and all things, which being so near.
What dost thou think but an antique?
She hath her work cut and done,
And yet she cannot seem to do it for her husband,
For he hath her in a trance, and it is his wish
To leave her with him alone.
But all that is in him dependeth on
Of every word, whether said in his head:
Or if in her thoughts it may be said
That he cannot know what he is, yet he cannot know
What he is, nor what he thinks he is.
His thoughts do confound her, and there he sits
In her thoughts and in her desires,
As if with thoughts he did make her change;
But what he makes her change, he makes her make.
For if he did change, he changeth a woman,
And yet she hath her thoughts so confounded,
That his motion doth confound her still.
For now she sees a pale-fac’d face,
With dark-fac’d brow, pale brow, and shaggy hat,
With heavy brow, heavy hat, and hat like a heavy beast,
Sits upon a hillock at the base,
Lays in a ravine, whereon he will leap
Into the blackness of night, to chase the day:
If in his haste he should run a shadow,
He shall be mistook for the devil by night.
Look’d upon the sick, and heard the poor complaining,


======== CHECKPOINT 040 OUTPUT # 004 ========

379 as the prime minister of the blessed Roman state
Came up to the gaudy request of Lucrece,
And doting, despite their fair gender, yet still had not been his delight.
Yet for that fair fee, Lucrece, in fear, fearing lest it should fall
Out, went forth alone to greet the boar,
And that sweet Lucrece so admir’d,
Upon which his greenish pelt doth hang;
For to catch her would be folly, and thus her protest’d,
With tears was her compeers doth appear.
“O love, what a sight it would be!
I do abhor murder as soon as it may be used;
For in my blood is purest chastity,
Which for my sake is espoused most credulous;
But in thy blood all sins must be accounted unclean,
That is in my blood, thy soul, and me.
Thus shall I prove my love to thee;
The more true the truth by thy self shalt thou prove.
And to this object they commence:
For he, being in rage, with much ado throws
With others, the rage not so much with his rage,
as if they should encounter each other there;
Who, being no better suited to her looks,
May say thus, ‘He in me should in hell be:
The stronger he is, the more ill he befits.’
‘”If thou have no need, do not steal,
That which is dear to thee, I have given thee.”
Thus he tells them, and they with him proceed
In the same fashion; till they have said so,
The birds do obey, and the plants yield
Some part of thee, some part of me, none.
All one, thy beauty is thy flower.
Thus shall the fair shepherd teach the poor lamb,
To look after the fair lambs, and thou lov’st the herd,
By means of which thou mayst breed many a pure breed.
Thou lov’st the boar, thy boar, thy boar’s horn;
And from thy brambles thy strong bosom,
To hear the wind, the ocean, and all the tribes
Of all these parts, would make thee a king.
But that thy will mayst do me good, to show thee thy parts,
And tell me thy worth, and all thy properties,
That thou thy will mayst have mine own good will,
And to thee this praise may belong;
For now is I sure the thing I am dreaming
Thy true eye doth perceive thine own face lies;
And yet thy art still as thou art, though thy mind deceiveth.
O then it shall be as it is, Collatine;
Wherein all his mightful mightiness hath bred,
This doting queen is mistress of a king.
Her hair, like that of a true widow,
Whereon her beauty is aptly crowned;
And whereon her beauty is contending,
Her kind and true life maintain each other.
“But in that sweetly wistly sight
That the sun doth shine upon the night,
I beseech thee, that thou wilt be thy self all free;
And, behold, a gentle wind coming down,
As it doeth at an uncertain hour
Will blow thy poor wits from the place where thou dost lie,
In a little while a gentle gust reneweth.
“Now, Collatine,” quoth she, “I had better get thee some refreshment
In these two drops of ink that still stayeth,
That in the glass my eyes may read and know
What was done to thee, how it was done.”
With that he replies with a heavy snare;
And again with more heavy slurring,
For Collatine himself is heard:
O hear this! thou art my friend, and I my friend.
And when he speaks again, his eyes are pale,
Their lusty hue dulls them in thoughts and makes them weep.
His voice is like that of the lark’s,
When she, as the raven that feeds, must bark;
And from her black prison doth dart;
Whereon she doth ensnare the lark;
Then, darting like ravens, she leaps,
She hits the black raven with her long neck,
And if the black raven run straight, she betakes
Her sharp point, and the raven leaps at it again.
‘Well, sweet boy, thou art not a horse that’ll keep pace,
With his hoof or his bridle, or his turtleneck,
If he be not so quick, and hold on so fast,
He’ll be gone soon after.
‘But what should I do, if


======== CHECKPOINT 040 OUTPUT # 005 ========

shed with her heart,
And do her will, her will to fulfill
That which she thinks not, but will do again.
Love, as it were dearer than death,
Possess what she did crave, give what she took.
Who needs not chastity?—a goodly knife,
Nor should he curb his fondness,
Nor be so bold to break it from his plea:
The fault is with him, the remedy with him
is his; then to the blame he should fall.
‘”But wherefore mayst thou ask, O gentle maiden,
When thou thy youth, when thou thy youth shalt be live,
And beauty’s sacred seal on thee,
Is in decay? shall any soul thence prevent,
Then will thy love be remembered
Though thou art in the possession of so great a city,
What beauty dost thou destroy? let not my dear friend die
Before thou hast some pity to show,
Make him return his fond-pleading hand;
And he will not, so long as his plea is true,
The matter will proceed as it should.
When I was a boy my father was a butcher,
And in spite of him I did not disdain,
Nor fear him too much, for fear of his pride.
‘To be fair my dear friend, do not so shun me,
If ever I did call upon thee, by thy name.
O, make of this your friend my bedchamber,
And invite it to my feasts where it shall find cheer,
If I may so boast therein so thrive.
No, my dear friend, do not hate me so,
For thou art my friend, and thou art my friend,
And thou art my physician; if thou prove me ill,
I will do thy medicine for thee,
And cure thee as soon as I can devise,
If thou my physician be able, methinks
To cure thee in his sight, or cure thee in mine.
But to myself it is my duty,
To feed the helpless orphans of this earth;
And then would I say ‘Look, how thou hast such pity
That I fear’d my life so should this dire dirge;
Let no such terror in thy heart survive
Thy heart-sick muse would draw thee this dire conclusion,
That all lies in thy own bedchamber alone.’
To this I answer, ‘That I my self doth believe
That the devil hath set a mark upon mine eye,
And by him hath brought to me a very fair sight,
And to his eyes it hath begun a hideous crime.’
And he, mad as heaven, shakes his head sadly,
And looks upon her pale complexion;
Her cheeks pale and blot out his pale face,
And on her cheek and on his chin,
And on his bare back, as if from a fever,
Distinguish’d from the cold chill and the scorching sun,
And from this chill in her face his heat proceeds,
That from the cold, the heat dissolves the snow,
And from this scorching cold is there no heat,
Which doth thenceforth be termed cold night,
Nor cold day, nor night’s night, nor day, nor moon,
Nor night, nor day, nor year, nor date, nor date
Nor year, nor night, nor day, nor year, nor date, nor date.
Yet now the day hath expired, and night hath fled,
And thou dost be the last day,
For to-morrow thou shalt hunt the boar;
And yet thou art the last man and she the boar,
And thou art the last widow,
And she this to herself hast committed,
For lo, lo, thy life’s fair flower dies away:
The sweetest flower thou dost flower, thy life doth live,
The fairest flowers thou dost flower, thy life doth live,
Thou art no longer alive to be alive with them,
And to die, thou must die for the life.
So, if thou were slain, what might the world’s surviving ear
Have done to make it bleed,
That now the warlock and slave might be brought to speak,
And with the rest of the school to come,
With borrowed hours to watch the dull hours waste.
“O how she must bequeath, to thy honour,
to thy will, to my will;
And by that will, I must do all things within my will,
To make my will strong, strong, lasting, lasting,
And do all things within my will, to make it last.
And therefore in this mine wills are tied
That my will is to thee, and I must do this,
To make my will strong, strong, lasting,
And do all things within my will,


======== CHECKPOINT 041 OUTPUT # 001 ========

Crypt

From a fickle spring she did raise,
And that water still doth her store still droop,
And that all beauty still doth still blemish,
And that all thy beauty now doth live blemish,
And that all thy beauty now doth live blemish,
And that all thy all that is all beauty dead:
If I would leave thee there, where art thou,
And never be dead, if thou art living,
The time shall tell me thee I am dead,
And I may say that life is but a dream,
So long as thou livest, live to tell
The time when thou shalt say I am dead.
“O, the hour of the flood is past,
Where all the tribes that built Rome
With silver or gold ere long man had tasted,
Are either dead, or both sexes alive.
In thy face are they trophies,
And statues of all kinds, worthy and lovely.
A thousand favours from thy hand she took,
She bids them stay, and kiss again;
She makes them wish, and wish they would stay;
And then she proceeds to tear them so,
The wounds in their cheeks being fresh:
She that makes them bleed so she heals them well.
‘Why’en thou art angry? ‘O what dost thou mean
that thou art angry at me for thy crime?
For this I said I would show thee thy faults;
And to prove thy faults, I sought thee
In my own image, whose worth thy love lacked.
A look at my pride makes thee angry;
Thy pride is such that thy love, in thee,
Doth disgrace thee, and thus I thyself will be disgraced.
‘”O shame, then my love, in the night
Shall the painter take the sickly star from my field,
Or worse than that sad-fac’d devil that hunts him alive,
Or worse than that fair fiend that feeds on him alone.
Or worse than a poisonous worm that kills the bee,
Or worse than any bastard that ever spied.
Or worse than the sickly jade that gives all his light
The ill-tuned hue that leaves his lips black and bloody,
Or worse than the foulest serpent that ever stood before,
Or worse than a lion with black claws that bites a lamb.
Or worse than an all-eating tiger that can devour you
If one dares.”
O let them not be deceived, that they hear my story!
They that knew the tale told by me were fools,
And would not confess it to their heartless eyes;
If they could, they would confess it still:
Even so I commend myself most worthy,
And invite all who know of you to be so kind.
‘Thou art the one,’ quoth he, ‘I am,’ quoth she;
‘Thou mine own,’ quoth he, ‘that gives my poor hosture
All pleasure and all blame; ’tis thy fault that I stay
No more than a stone’s puddle doth dwell:
The river being full, the flood gusheth in it
And all the sea to wash it up again:
If thou dost wipe away all my flood-gates,
For thou dost wipe away all my flood-gates.’
But why dost thou leave the help of night,
And stay till day’s onset to kill me?
Why hast thou stay’d and come back again?
So that when I die thou canst not know
That my body is dead, and thy life doth survive.
He looks up, and sees his mistress gone,
And on that he prays her pardon will stay,
Which she answers, and answers again.
He stares, and her eyes are white with tears.
His lips are pale, and he gazes scornfully
At his face, his cheeks, his nose, his chin, his breast, his eyes,
Whereon he holds forth his tongue, his tongue being open,
Whereat his lips do presently bow and bow;
And like a cloud of dust he stares,
That in his visage in the misty night
He dotes on what he sees, where he dotes.
‘”The devil,” quoth she, “deserves the worst of all.”
“What of that?” quoth he. “That he might not possess it,
Hast thou forsworn, as heaven vows to thy might,
And made it thy duty to forbid it?
Even so, to thine own command, I ask thee this.
O pardon me, then I had better come back,
For if I did, thou couldst not possess it,
For if I did, thou couldst not possess it,


======== CHECKPOINT 041 OUTPUT # 002 ========

LET the hot furnace being warmed,
A furnace that will no hot hand nor hot hand’s tool
May burn the weak and die in a thousand minutes’ fighting.
‘Therefore thou shalt not kill,’ quoth he,’my mistress’
The maid that thy mistress gave thee,
The one thou dost love, the other thy dear friend.
I’ll make thee my friend, my dear friend thou dost love,
And if thy love should betray thy friend,
Thy love shall forfeit all in that I love thee,
Then shall I not love thee the least of thine,
Unless thou my sweet love convert to truth.
So by thy self I’ll convert thee to truth,
And thou my self a thousand times more excellent,
Than when thou art my self, my self thy self more good.
‘”All these false lights and vapours that creep in from forth
Are thine own invention, and cannot make their light
stay where they are:
But heaven’s sweetest jewel, that gives true beauty shine,
Tames them like two birds in the air,
Who sing the same tune but for different reasons,
Thine own sweet beauty being sung in heaven.
‘Then love’s golden foil and his white fleece,
Like the gaudy jewels of heaven that hide his face,
The painter’s green is so warm,
That the sun, whose fresh air doth his body stand,
Disdainfully doth the foil flatter:
But when the hot foil is dispensed,
The cold fire disperses and the glowing fire
Doth so cool the heat that no one doth touch.”
O yes, love in this, she hears me;
Then love in all this, she doth comprehend;
So she answers: ‘Thou lov’st not love,
If thou art loved I’ll kill thee soon.’
‘That said, she with a little chat,
A little look at his pale cheek drew a deep pity,
She takes him by the hand, and kisseth him again.
“Look at me, old friend, thou look’st on all these stars
That have given birth to your offspring:
Not mine, but yours that gave them thee
The power of their destinies:
As their stars do give thee the power, so do I yours.
When all this is done, let my love drown,
And then the world will be his slave and make him hate me.
If he should sink to death, that is to say,
His soul would live and be buried with thee,
And by thy self thou art dead, since thy life’s end,
And thou alone is thy self buried with me,
Thy self that makes thee dead and this thee be.
So being dead and thy self buried,
That this living thing’s picture thou dost leave behind,
With the lifeless ground that stands in thy way,
Let that barren earth where thou livest be,
And let that lifeless earth where thou dost be,
Which thence thou wilt take unto thy living grave.
‘But what of the dead, when they are gone?
The living will bear their sorrow still,
And the living will bear their sorrow still,
If the living have any appetite of life.
‘”Thus said she to him, her voice so low and low,
Which from her hollow breast her fair eyes did cover,
Upon his thigh her white trimmed hat did hang;
And as the bird did depart, so did her eyne;
She still did cover him, and then he seemed pale;
“No,” quoth she, “this is not sport;
I did tell you that you were fond;
But now I know better;
And all your sport being out, you still cannot tell
For you in me are many a confusion.
‘O, what a fright it must be!
My body, which in thee is made,
With thy worth’s decay thou hast done.
Yet thou shalt not mourn for me in vain;
For I am no tomb-bearer,
Nor canst thou leave a nun nor an orphan.
O, what a hideous sight it must be!
‘I’ll hunt the deer,’ quoth she; ‘the bear will not stay
In his ambush, nor will he dare touch thee;
For thine honour is thy honour to bear;
Thine honour, to bear thine own trespass;
Thine honour, in pursuit of that which is so:
Thine honour, to chase thine own false pride;
Thine honour, thou art no man to mock the sky.
O me! thou art still, and I must depart;
Why shouldst thou depart, if I still be gone?
Or if I still be gone, why shouldst thou still remain
Where I,


======== CHECKPOINT 041 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Elias in a dream
Are like a pair of dancing bees, with black wings
Bud she up, as if he was dreaming;
He leaps back, looks for her, and doth follow her
When the strong-pierced boar that had lain where he lay
Shows no fear; but he in turn neighs and neighs,
And neighs, to fright the birds, he doth fly.
She looks in vain, and sees no victor;
Her eyes are dumb, as they had seen many a king,
As the wind from heaven blasts her from her place.
This poor creature, to make her untrue,
Sets his finger upon her cheek, as though it say ‘This man is mine.’
‘Lo, my love,’ quoth she, ‘I have an oath that you will
My life, that you live by my side.’
His hand, in hers, was white,
Which on her neck she had a brass key;
Then his fingers, like marigolds, did govern her;
They did her vows, and they their lives were lived.
For if my love had died, your love, my life,
My life and life to you were one and the same.
But now thou wilt live (all others dead) and now thou wilt live,
You are two living creatures that should live beside.
Thou hast lived in my soul, not in thy head,
My flesh my soul to inhabit.
And in it the dead will live, and still the living will die,
But with your dead I will live, and still the living shall die,
But in my body and your dead I will live,
And still the living shall live, and still the living shall die.
‘Now this my love, that I so loved,
Did with him all the death that a thousand mouths did remove,
And that he did not kill with him himself.
‘”Thus begins my story:—My loathsome foe
Against whom thou hast fled, thou dost keep still,
And thou dost keep still, and yet the foe doth still remain.
At last, with her arms folded, she shakes them;
Her nails do her nails strike, and with them stay.
Her heart to her breast is throbbing, and her voice growing weak.
At length she tells the tale of the horse,
Which the queen, having heard the tidings,
Took from the forest the precious berries she had brought,
And gave to the birds a sweet scent of their fruit.
She did this, and that which she hath,
She with waxen leaves, in the airy sky,
Like a fair fair flower do cover the face,
Of which, in her bosom, sits a certain god,
Who by a kiss hath th’ unripe herb
Receives thee sweet love and takes thou his due,
When thou returnest my sweet desire and receivest
The bounteous gift that thou mayst bring forth.
For this purpose did she make an alabaster hat
That now the queen’s ornament would not deceive.
Now, as the wind takes on a more and more lively note,
A little while she lies with her bottomless head,
And, bending her head about her chest, as if it would catch,
Gazeth up her voice, as if she would obey,
Catching his ears, yet not liking her gentle music.
“The horse, that thou dost pluck, I will not permit;
The woman, the other, shall not budge;
The man, the other, shall not budge;
Thou art mad, thou art so mad, thou art so dumb,
So be it, the horse shall not go, nor the woman nor me;
Thou wast so strong, thou so weak, I can tame thee.
‘”Now therefore have I some grievance with my maid,
Till now I have sworn that I love you best,
For this shall I do, one by one, to make sure,
That you shall be yours, and me you to your liking.
What follows then, my heart fears, and makes no end
To that dread doom which is before me.
O none of you, mine eye can see
And hears no ill, nor hears any thing wrong;
That which it knows, it knows not to make ill.
Therefore, that false nurse which nurseth thee,
Thy eyes this ill to feed, and me this ill to feed thee.
O lest your thoughts (all in vain)
Thy eyes could see the perils of idle youth,
Which on thy brow remain the growth
Of youth, and of all things evil:
But if thy heart will think, thou wilt not love
The


======== CHECKPOINT 041 OUTPUT # 004 ========

Scorpion with all his might, yet could not win it over.
“That poor dame, thou murther than I am,
Canst not boast thy beauty is better
than his own ill.
That she hath such disdain for him,
Thy self she in all respects doth abhor.
O then with the tide that heaveth down,
How far a thousand dangers he doth venture;
What sort of him thyself in himself doth confound;
How far a thousand dangers he doth confound;
And thus far he confounds the very heart;
What an honour that makes a fool think so
That makes him fearfully cross that bloody river.
O that thy guilt was greater than thy woe,
And worse than the plague of that name,
That on my lips I lay to rest your disgrace,
Or you the proud, to whose fair praise I live.
‘The best is as it can be, as it is,
But best in love, with most ill.
‘O one that lives and dies with others,
Or is buried with others,
or dies with others, or was there no father
Who was born of thee, but died for thee?
Or is it his, or her, that he esteems so?
The poor wife that she bears him,
And the rich widow that she loves,
And all the rest are his slaves and executors.
The boy that looks upon his father’s image,
Is himself despised, and being idolatry’s slave,
Ceasing the view of his beauty,
For as beauty is the eye of the beholder,
so is the dewy feeling that gives the woo,
Which when we feel it, is as warm to us as snow.
‘Tis said in Love that ’tis not lawful
To give advice to men, that advice
Till in a brook they themselves learn to abuse,
And if they dare to be so rude they can never be rid,
And they that make such errors teach in others,
With outward signs of infamy.
O, how her husband’s mistress had not
Conceit and disdainfully done him this good end,
Since that he so deservedly languished in scorn,
His mistress’ eyes were not wip’d away
Her sorrow’d brow, nor his cheek’s dry shine,
Whereon the beauty of all things confounds:
But now the eyes of such a heaven were seen,
That their fair sun hath his visage so well warmed,
That to the world’s eye he would appear so much blemish’d.
O how she, having once the good of all,
Disappeared, but then the world would believe her:
To me the matter is simple, though the reason
Is seldom clear. O that mine eye may behold
A shadow so subtle it should not be seen;
Who, lo, canst thou not discern the deep sorrow
Which his eyes will not fix upon thy brow?
To show the woe upon my brow thou dost not see.
This vexed plea hath me to my arms held:
Against the will of my heart I’ll fight,
Against my heart, against my heart’s will!
What dost thou toil me with false harms,
That thou mayst think on my deeds and me what thou mean’st?
And if thou wouldst say so, say not more.
For I am thy friend, and thy foe,
Thy self that in me thou lov’st is slain.
And if thou canst kill the spirit of that,
That in me thou canst kill the living,
And in me thou lov’st to live a second life,
thou canst kill the living, too,
And in me thou lov’st to live a third life,
Thy self to live a second life thy self didst betray,
And in me thou lov’st to live a third life,
And in me thou lov’st to live a third life thou lov’st,
Whilst in me thou lov’st thou lov’st but thy living,
And in me thou lov’st but thine living thine living.
So then with thy help can I restore my love,
And with thy help can I restore my loathed hate,
And with thy loathed hate can I restore my despised hate:
For thou lov’st not love that is lovish’d,
Nor love that is lovish’d is not love in hate.
If thou lov’st love that is loved,
Thy love is never hated, and that which it affords,
That is not loved to hate, for it is loved.
Even so she doth say, “That he may not know what is in him,
Unless thou hast no eyes


======== CHECKPOINT 041 OUTPUT # 005 ========

acas the sun,
He in his fair armour doth hang on his head,
Like to the Trojan from whose bright arms he flies.
Yet be I not the fairest and most full of friends,
Haply I strive with your fair show,
For to have such an advantage over me.
What fair show in this is it mine,
To use your fair name, as yours are worth,
Where none, though all your worth so great,
Thy fair name, or’my fair name be,
And all my worth that thou hast, mayst hold thy hand:
But in my fair show, thy fair name is lost,
For thou wast’my fair name, and mine was ‘his’.
O that thou mayst see the face of this fair lamb!
Beggared by love and hate from hence,
Shall hate to gain thy revenge against me;
And that thy life should be bereft me
Than life in love, which my body should hold it captive.
‘But if from the womb thou be endowed,
Thy self, and thy self a flower,
Thy self in thy self, to be thyself doth grow,
O for that, by love, thy self should remain
Where thou art born again, where thou wast before:
O no, thou art not mine,
I have no self to hold thee by,
Till all the world, that is to blame for my deeds.
If I may speak so, so can the world at large.”
But as he thus contemn’d, his lips began to flatter;
Some say his eyes are red, others his lips red,
Some say he wears no vestal of gold,
Both fair and hue his true appearance tell,
And none to his complexion is painted so.
O then I do wonder at his beauty,
And I envy that he, who is such a thing,
Holds such beauty but in my face.
For as he sees some painted flower with painted face,
So many were woe unto him, and such sorrow
To stain his fair cheeks that in him still stood.
‘What do you want me to do, what of my mind?
O what use is that then in thine own?
For then I cannot but be confounded?
Or else be confounded so with other men?
But, madly, they call it love, and yet that is no praise,
And every word that says ‘love’ in this regard
Is but a gloss made up of woe and murder,
Which the world sees with blindness, and therefore cannot be
Told of thine own image, nor true of thy self.
‘O how sweet a breath!
And yet it was not till the time that I heard your voice,
That you told my ear what you meant,
And as if I did hear your motion,
I saw your face that you did make a heaven.
O be of right! be of wrong! be of false! be deceitful!
But most assuredly thou art my friend, my friend’s friend,
And I your fair self my friend’s friend’s friend,
The world to me is my true home,
And to thee I’ll be kept imprisoned,
As the imprisoned thief that keeps you still.
‘”O peace, dear friend, I hear you say;
In thy breast a thousand woes are contending;
And yet, in thy breast still I’ll lament,
The cause of thy restlessness.”
Yet more than this, he stops and looks,
He looks for her, but her face is gone,
His hand is cold and straight, his right hand is kind,
his left hand is sharp and tame,
His right hand, which, like a cannon, fires;
His left hand, which at first began fire,
Sinks still and, like a cannon, quakes again:
For whate’er he whips his left hand, let it fall
From his strong hold upon a steep hill;
And from thence he goes, as if to slay
The boar that had stalk’d him down.
‘O!’ quoth he,’my lord,’ quoth she, ‘this foul deed
Hath done me wrong, but it shall not be revenge.’
“What?” quoth she, “canst thou promise?”
Thy loyal wife’s face hath wakened the woo,
To whom it bids her bow and kiss:
What’s thy grievance then? do not leave it
That my mistress’ face is so ghastly in her mind.
To this she replies, “Thou wilt not love to lose;
For, as thy sweet mistress, so love’s eyes are troubled.”
“And now,” quoth she, “if thou wilt leave me,

======== CHECKPOINT 042 OUTPUT # 001 ========

Lot and cold with grief she woos;
The wind that blows her woes ever so high,
Shows her woe and sore cheek burn’d with grief’s wound.
This she thinks, that it is the sole cause of her troubles.
She may think for hours, yet she cannot hold them;
She looks with distended eyes, hoping some favour will come
With a swift or slow flight;
The coward gait, whose heavy burden it brings
To bear more swiftly the coward will.
Thy eye may behold the gouty state of thine;
Her lip twitches, her blood it hies cold,
She doth tremble and cry aloud, “O, my heart! behold thy shame!
Look how he beats himself to sleep;
He throws the world to a halt, and bids himself die;
The lion breaks, and doth thrall the gentle lamb;
She looks, with some amazement, on him;
She concludes her report by exclaiming, “Thy eye doth behold this;
But thou shalt see no beauty in him so bad.”
‘Then I will bow before a celestial host,
And greet him with sweet alms;
Who bids him still entomb his dear body in thine,
And then weeps, as one in Lucrece’ arms,
‘Grief cannot ever wipe all stain upon the face.’
O pardon the break of day, and all solemn sport!
The hour is near when Opportunity
The victor will have his due;
Thou art the conqueror, and thou shalt be gilded,
And beauty your sole possession for ever.
As a man is in love with a bird,
When in himself the difference is so great,
That the bird in his view seems tame:
He now with a jealous eye,
Or worse shows the wayward fool:
The lion, though not so kind, still prays his friend;
So is he with his dear bird, as he with her.
“When men are hunted, why not their horses?”
“They have pity on their faces,” quoth she.
“The heart shall know that it is made for sport,
And yet it desires no sport in the world:
And yet the world’s shame is so great, that it cannot bear
Even so modest a monument.”
Poor Sin, how she did not know thy art
Was in her breast a hideous image?
But to my black Muse I owe so much,
I hope she may the better still see
She in that state of so poor a state,
I hope she may all things that abroad should be,
live to kill her ghost with her own.
‘O fair friend! thou shalt not kill me in thy bed,
But when thou see’st this, kill’st I not my life,
For by thy stealing I should not live to catch,
And by my death I should live in thy breast,
And never live to see thy shadow in thine.
‘In the morning I did tell thee I did hate thee,
And yet thou didst not love me despite of my hate.
“That thou mightst betray my love to his wife,
Hath concealed her truth so cunningly;
That thou mightst betray me still to her husband,
Yet do not betray me still still to her husband.
That thy love mightst in another be concealed,
By false precedent of perjury buried.
O what a fool dost thou find!
To call the time when I did begin
To write to the world and tell them how sorry I am,
I cannot think of much to say;
I love thee so much more than this mortal sin can.
That thou that art buried in thine own pride,
Whose pride still doth bear him this heavy doom,
Thy pride shall in thy youth breed another hate,
And another that more aptly doth dwell,
And yet another like me that doth dwell
In the pride that doth stand in thy store.
And as they look at me, they beheld
A pale-fac’d youth with silken cloaks
Doth hurl insults at the pale, yet smiling face,
Who for thy looks doth scorn the pale, yet be gracious,
Thin beauty, that thou shouldst impart to me,
A fair quality, that thou mayst bring back to life,
To be kept in my love by thy beauty’s side,
And no less fair, than fair as thy store,
Of worth, which thou shouldst mine, by thy side.
But as thy fair image falls to the ground,
My grief to myself subsist, and to my grief doth dwell.
My grief, therefore, that thou shouldst bring me back to life,
Is in the fact that I am


======== CHECKPOINT 042 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Appears with thy sweet looks doth live, and all thy fair beauty die:
And thou in thy thoughts shalt live as a dead man,
Which in thy thoughts thou dost live,
And all dead as a living thing,
As the life-sustaining pestilence
Is blown out of her sight and all her light.
And thus did she make her motion,
When in a dream he starts and stops;
And in the night his shadow seems bent,
And all pale, but pale white, doth his shadow go,
And nowhere hath his shadow left his face.
‘And in this he falleth, or ‘gins to rage:
Yet never did any one dally with him,
Nor all the tribes that loved him so,
He never disdained, nor did he covet;
Love’s treasure is my youth, my youth’s treasure,
And mine is the fame and my name’s beauty,
And mine is the love and all your fame.’
‘And what dost thou think of thy self,
But that I am your master and your slave?
No art able to love, unless you have a heart
Of love, then you can not love me,
And then I am your slave and I am your slave.
No, love is not made of numbers,
And numbers are not all fair, but they are all kind,
They bear no sorrow except to stain.
‘”Lo here weeps the dying of night,
And all that time that we breathe renews our pain;
And when, all night, the eyes open up wide,
And all their bounty are forgot, their light doth cover
The night’s woes, the day’s pleasure,
And all the rest of us that are left
Are nothing at all but ashes of our sins.’
Now is she sad, but she is not so.
His complexion, pale and dim,
His lips, and their hollows do tremble:
His eyes, pale, with trembling fear,
With piercing terror did she find
That every little thing in her sight
Shows fear, fear, grief, fear, terror;
And often she think’st, what makes them mad, and what makes them happy.
But no, no love so cold that love can still feel,
I may be wrong, and I could never be right,
That my love you should never be so cold,
Were I a stranger you should have known me,
And you would know it with me when I am not alive.
As a dream-working boar, I like your sweet love,
Though it bark at you with a heavy hand,
But that which strikes at your neck every instant,
Like a swan, which bites at sweet prey when it doth move,
I love you more than that name ever knew you,
Unless your love were a flower, then my name is dead.
O! what a sorrow that face! that eyes!
Showing you love! Love at your worst still bears
A kind of fear to every tongue and every tongue’s ear.
If thou wouldst break the silence of my bed,
Then shall I not see thee again for some time?
If thou wouldst live to see the day,
Then love’s decease will make my sorrow worse.
‘And how, though I see many young ladies that are young,
Himself old, yet never touched nature’s tender hand,
But by the grace of nature’s arms did hang,
That they might hold them in their arms,
When Nature hath chafed my soul from love.
‘O thou what a worthless shadow the world hath cast!
Who thinks her beauty is so goodly reproving,
To steal the life of thy self and thee?
‘No,’ quoth she, ‘I know not beauty, nor love,
Not love but of men’s sense, and blood, and form.
To this my poor mistress I add that
I might compare thy life and thy manners,
And to you, but of your present misdeeds.
Then, in a most sour of accents,
I say to myself: thou art the sun, and I the moon,
To whom thou hast no right to leave behind.
‘”Look here what a sad spectacle it would be,
With two or three fairies dancing about,
To nurse the dead, or the young, dead, and young
Where nature intends none of them, yet we all go,
For we all pine for thee and for thee alone.
‘O how that poor flower which in thy bud
Holds this hope, and in thine eye grows
Thy hope’s fruit still bright, and bright still,
With all thy might still thy might still might do!
That’s all for me now, to thee next


======== CHECKPOINT 042 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Fest, to thy self I say, for I know not what is most pleas’d;
But as thou hast emptied me of all, so my name lies
In other men’s praise, as in thy own:
O where art thou when I hope my self to return,
That I, in thy shadow, am still free,
When I am, not on earth, but in thee?
What is mine worth? thy beauty’s worth yet I cannot know.
Thy sweet smell is stale and rotten and black,
Yet my sweet smell is new and dear,
And thou art the best, though not all that good:
No, no, no, no, no, nothing doth lie
In my foulest despair, my purest heart,
Wherein thou wast created and left me,
My sweet-tun’d love’s breath takes away,
And in it thou gav’st me to be sullied,
But where is my love that needs my love?
O that which doth live, must die for me;
For I in thee doth live that live which doth live.
“But in thee thou livest,” quoth Lucretius,
“an extinct tyrant, a beggar, a gouty,
A beggar’s son, a beggar’s wife,
Whore of cares, bankrupt, wretch, or bankrupt,
Hate of love, loathed by none, or loved by all,
Thy self, thou art thy self, and ’tis thine:
When thou art all, all things are thine.
If in thy self thy self art all,
And all things else nothing but thy worth,
Thy self is thy self, and all things else are thine.
“Thou art mad,” quoth he, “and in thine eye
Thy self, that in thy self art mad,
Thy self is thy self, and all things else are thine.
But when that self which in thee is dead,
And all thy parts in thine, are liv’d with thine eye,
O pardon me, that I may speak,
And not speak of thee but as a ghost,
To shame my self with words so untimely.
‘O Time’s knife! how cruel, poor excuse!
Who didst not then slay his prey with his hand?
Or with his nails did he scratch the sky,
To mark the deep-green meadows with his shadow?
Or by a painter’s golden fount
That did the world’s best with his rarest creation?
Or by the gilded arms and mighty turrets
Of modern day, with a reverend god?
Or in the breath of winter’s day
By day’s chill and the mild wind of spring replenish?
But then, woe be assured, there are none but heaven’s children.
‘And every hand that touches mine, touches mine hand;
I make no such attempt as mine eye hath cast,
To play the poet, or write the song.
“This vile serpent that eats the life from my hand,
This boar-eating lion that once terrorized me,
Shows me thou art not such a worthless soul
That I shall bear to pity the dead;
And yet, till thou wilt live, I shall kill thee for love.
‘Twixt love and death she is hard,
So hard she beats her heart in beating.
‘Then what shall I do if death by my side be done?
Love, that art hard, will not bear it;
Love, that is sweet, will not tire of it;
Love, that is kind, will not abuse it;
Love, that is kind, will not murder it;
Love, that is kind, will not rape it;
love is gentle, sweet, and true,
And, if you do wrong, your life is death’s ransom.
Thy father’s passion is sweet, and his passion is harsh,
Till sweet love doth teach it to love,
Love doth teach sweet love doth teach love doth teach hate.
‘O shame, this ill-hurting offence!
For what it doth for me is not death’s death,
But all the world’s best and worst evil.
O pity what wrong thou dost in the present state!
O most heinous of murders, that so young a man!
Whose eyes never till then have peep’d the night,
Even in the fresh buds of thy spring.
‘How shall my maid bequeath me to another day?
Her love, that made my acquaintance
Accomplish’d in her unkindness,
Will yet still cherish my dear acquaintance,
Unless I be depriv’d from her fold.
That’s a heavy sentence to bear


======== CHECKPOINT 042 OUTPUT # 004 ========

rewarding that she did find some favour
From her husband’s tender embrace,
Or had him persuade her to her desire.
“Fie, fie,” quoth she, “this is thy last:
O that you had such a gift, why should I return?
And now I find myself one of your lords,
Which you possess and I possess but not enough:
No gift can do that can’t be given to me,
Yet if you were in love, then it should not be forgotten,
I love you more than all the earth doth mine.”
“That was thy last,” quoth she, “and it shall stay
When I die, nor be left alive for love.”
But this comment, till his tongue begun again,
His cheeks were full of tears, and they fanned forth
The woe-beholding piteous clouds that his lips had hovered.
Such are the dangers of such a happy-go-lucky night!
That from the eyes of men there may be
Doubting your true love, to kiss a poor boar forn’ring.
“Poor boy,” quoth she, “you seem to me so fair,
What else can a fair child suppose?
Why should my poor wife be mistress to thee?
So my beloved wife is no love at all.
‘And now my sweet self, to-night,
How often have I gazed upon my self as dead,
And thought to myself ’tis my self that looks so,
I wonder at thee with sad eyes every where:
Yet what may it be, that ever thought my eyes could know
The wretched plight of the bereaved?
Love in thee is dead, and I live to-morrow.
If the dead be alive, life in thee still remains.
By this I answer, all hearts bow before me,
But my sorrows, my joys, and mine sorrows are in haste:
I will not bequeath this death unto your fair,
And that thou in my fair bequeath’st thee so.
In him you hold this false jewel of thine,
Mine is thine, mine is your true love’s and thou all’s:
My love in thee was but thine, mine in thee was thine;
Then like a jade falling from a rose,
Grew it self up, self down, self come back again.
‘My love in thee was but thine, mine in thee was thine;
And this thy love did invert, and fall out again.
‘My love in thee was but thine, mine in thee was thine;
And this thy love did invert, and fall out again.
‘My love in thee was but thine, mine in thee was thine;
And this thy love in thee was thine;
And this my love did invert, and fall out again.
His teeth did tremble, his brows did shake, his eyes did fly,
His chin did bend, his chin out, his back to the ground,
His lips, his tongue, his joints bent in a jocund flight;
His chin and his head did change shape, his head and head back again.
So he is to this false jewel, that in him we see,
O, my love, thou art but my child, and not thy friend,
So be it, till thy self is told, be it told in my tongue,
That poor Collatine did so poor a thing,
That many a deaf ear here in the house hear,
That all her sweetly happy tunes are undone:
‘For thou art mine; not mine is thine,
For thou art mine, mine is thine;
For thou art mine, mine is thine;
For thou art mine, mine is thine;
For thou art mine, mine is thine;
For thou art mine, mine is thine;
For thou art mine, mine is thine;
So shalt thou wail my death, O my beloved,
As soon as thou die, my life is stopp’d.
As from hence all things else seem to come
And be overseen with thy face in confusion,
To all those whose picture your picture contains,
Even so in me, nothing is to be despised,
Yet spite of thy beauty still, spite of thee.
What’s wrong, what’s right, what’s wrong’st thou to say?
What’s wrong, what’s right, what’s wrong’st thou to say?
Those that are virtuous are they not thieves?
Hast thou not, or thy soul, that hath committed thy sin?
No, it was thy trespass on my life,
And yet thou art not my friend.
“Poor child,” cries he, “be kind,”


======== CHECKPOINT 042 OUTPUT # 005 ========

hospital from the plague, yet she still did not find cure.
And yet, in the hope of gaining some benefit,
She did make use of a maid’s fault,
By encouraging a pretty and kind behaviour.
‘”Now,’ quoth she, ‘I must excuse myself,
And my poor patient from my bed,
For I have never seen a thing so cold,
As yet she on her pillow, whereon a pale light
Presents her pale face with her pearly blood;
And from a distance she perceives a devil,
Which looks on her with ghastly eyes,
Who sometime fears the sun’s long ill.
Thus to the dark-beguiled dark she lies,
Her eyes the fire that burns her cheeks,
For as her cheeks so are she burns them again.
This is my fault, my fault, my sin, my guilt,
The sickly rhyme I recite,
Which by this verse is brought to light
Is enough to prove my innocence.
But if I had sin more, what good would that good have
To say I love thee more, than I thee?
“O then tell me, dear dear friend, how I may get,
From thence thou wilt find me, thou sweet child of thine,
To kiss, that tongue that taught thee how.
‘When love enforc’d my heart, my body politic,
With a tumult of clamours through the air,
Then, for the first time in my soul’s motion,
My soul would break forth again, and forth again;
And this, too, my body politic,
Whilst the breach should be, my body would break.
When then Love enforc’d my heart, my body politic
With a tumult of clamours through the air,
Then, for the first time in my soul’s motion,
My body would break forth again, and forth again;
And this, my body politic,
Whose breach should be, my body would break forth again;
But when the break should be, my body would break forth again.
‘Poor Collatine,’ quoth he, ‘that hath so much beauty in me,
My mind hath no pleasure in dividing;
My lips, my eyes, my nose, my lips’ ornaments,
Are but trophies to my heart, but mine own eyes,
Save where they are beguiled, are no beauties made:
Nor should my tears shed praise on others’ praises:
So I at mine own stealing, and I at my own sweet,
Save mine own tears, mine own praise shall live in thee,
Then are you that are love to me, and to other,
As those that are not your own in worth.
O pardon me then, I once more saw a god,
Who so lovingly doted on me, yet my hand
Would hang upon my thigh; so would my heart,
That my chest and neck would quake with him.
Thou shouldst love thyself, thyself love thyself;
And never live another’s death by my body’s stain.
O, if thou art dead, why dost thou make me live?
When love is dead, thou mayst see thine own decay,
And in thy decay die, that thou mayst be loved,
And that love may live again.
O, how false, and untimely, deceits such a watch,
As thou in thy face shows, in all thy beauty doth lie,
Or steals thy time, or steals thy fortune.
O, that thou mayst behold the day that thou wast slain!
O, that thou mayst behold the day that thou wast slain!
And then thou hast no more to complain of me,
Or of what I have done wrong, than thou dost complain me.
‘”But why, O false and unkind, dare I say,
The thought of mine inordinate or unprovident
Shows the very worst of my offences:
And all in vain, I say ‘This deed is lawful;
Therefore it shall not be questioned whether,
I am virtuous, or what else it may denote.
Whilst I in my self-will enforced this deed,
I assure them by my deeds that I am not,
From thence they can see nothing wrong in me;
No offence could it derive thence,
That they in me offences have been.
‘O night,’ quoth she, ‘look what hath happened to me
Since I have fled the day with my woes:
The time is nigh, the night is past, and yet
I still dare not stay long with my woes.
“So therefore I have chaste love in my deed,
But love’s colour in mine is black and ghastly.
I may in my


======== CHECKPOINT 043 OUTPUT # 001 ========

validity at the sight of death,
Which is both sweet and sad when it deceives;
To this death, we all at once add:
For through the breath of love we must breathe,
Since the eyes that with sighs did frame us,
To see the sweets that in heaven we dote.
“That he that walks, as his worth our shame,
Doth in thought subdue him by this deadly hand,
so the knife shall not take him prisoner.
O, do not imagine that he can still
Stand still, even with his blunt instrument;
Till every part that touches him,
Will not reprehend him till he is dead.
‘O,’ quoth she, ‘why should I fear him?
Why should I fear him so?—’
This thought disturbed his heart;
For when he rose he began to sing:—
O, look what beauty doth lie concealed,
As blood doth clot in bloodless wrinkles,
But that in whose freshness lives beauty’s decay,
When beauty doth decay not only dies but thrives;
beauty hath power to stain,
As beauty doth stain in stainless wrinkles,
And beauty doth write of doting age.
“O,” quoth she, “why should I fear him?
As if in the moment of death,
He were with me, I might behold
His face in some sad-sack’d tomb,
Or in a tomb so full of fear,
As Death’s sepulchre should seem full of shame,
In that name alone doth Collatine lie.
This I will, mine own, and thee alone,
And live as one who with thee doth live,
I’ll be queen of that which thou art.”
So on she sits she looks on her aged face,
And at her brow, wondering at the sad state,
She starts, and the pattern of her steps
Shows every where, and what with each step she makes:
Her eyes have time, and nights no,
She sleeps with thoughts still to time,
Even to the morning when she thinks she knows
She is dead, dead in one fell drop of blood.
I am not your age, nor your majesty’s day,
Let your poor faults be my memorial;
The earth needs not love to love thee so,
That in thee thy time thy words might be writ.
“Lo, for my sake, thou mak’st me this,
To persuade the world to thy side.
Let him who desires aught else but love,
Be free, and let him sell what he will;
The world is thy debtor, and so his desire
Is for my sake yielded to mine;
So shall this night with thee remain night,
For he hath forsaken thee, and thou shalt find.
If his desire were any more, thou mightst find,
A thousand kisses to thy sweet self, and thou art well loved.
Let those that know thy self still,
Give the old favourites of their time
With their own colour to the youthful colours,
So-fair-shining-green-vessel’d stars that do oft lie
In the blood of dead stars, with thy love’s date.
‘The thought of treason be damned,’
And put to death a sovereign sovereign right,
That did no man else obtain by force beguile;
Who, as the slave of some god, would make this right
For his own sake, that he may live,
To whom he was depriv’d in death.
‘His hand, that churl he strikes, shall cleanse the water from my cheek,
And from thence to Tarquin I’ll poison his pride.
“Father,” quoth she, “if my heart shall desire,
To breed more children by thee, by thy example I’ll breed;
Then from thy womb will all that thou hast begot
Bezenge the bastard’s face, and render him a boar,
For with thee there’s no hope; with me there’s no hope,
There’s no hope left: I will be gone;
For what’s left of thee, I will engraft,
And if the sun hereafter appear, what’s left
Is death and disgrace to my sight.
“In vain,” quoth she, “once more, behold
The sun that doth now fill the sky;
Where once every night doth spend all day gazing,
Where once every puddle spends the night smiling,
Where once every hair blemish the colour white,
Where once every eye every tooth doth droop,
where once every eye’s shape hath but one bud,
Where once every eye’s shape hath more than one bud,
Where once every eye hath more than one bud,
Where once every eye blem


======== CHECKPOINT 043 OUTPUT # 002 ========

reinforcements in her head’s wide open face,
Then her fair cheeks like flaming pyramids stand
In the way of her ecstasy,
And in her breast lies all that are thought of,
Even to the edge of death, when her mind begins anew.
Let it then be a show of woe,
Of woe to those whose self thou dost excuse,
Then shall I swear, O never love I wink,
I have many tears, and yet there were none
That I had not cried aloud;
So shall I die that which I do say,
Though I have thee in many a sorrow’s length.
So then I will live, and die alone.
“Thou wast not made, nor cannot be,” quoth she,
“What couldst thou make?” quoth she;
Then say no more, till thou say more.
“I did make thee, not for an end,
But to clear up a shameful night;
For who’s guilty of a deed so fair?
The one for whose sake the other doth betray?
Or why shall I not be so fair,
as well to prove my worth by fair deeds,
As to prove one’s worth by deeds?”
As he with the bushes doth sit and droop,
The young birds in the hollow where they lay,
Die, and their young are no more,
But that sweet and perfect name they call,
Where beauty once lived, now dead,
To wipe his image clean from the world, and bring him to me.
‘But ah, it was thy father’s day;
The sun that did his wonted light set,
Hath dappen’d his garment in many a filching puddle,
And now he hath his heir, whose will it shall spend,
The prize of many a rich or poor widow;
In whom, it seem’d, the eyes of men have taught,
And from some rare earth have seen,
The tanned phoenix, the jet-black and beaded hare,
All beauties that can in one fell drop appear,
Or at the very least, at once seem
Resembling the youthful and full of youth.
So may it please the eyes, that they see that
The boar hides in the bushes,
And calls it ’tis self-slaughter’d for slaughtering.
‘No,’ quoth he, ‘no, no, no!’
And when he speaks, the deep purple blood
Of bett’ring the dying of night doth gush forth,
And, in the course of his motion,
At the burning bush with a groan such a cry:
‘But ah, it was thy father’s day;
The sun that did his wonted light set,
And now he hath his heir, whose will it shall spend,
The prize of many a rich or poor widow;
In whom, it seem’d, the eyes of men have taught,
And from some rare earth have seen, the tanned phoenix,
All beauties that can in one fell drop appear,
Or at the very least, at once seem
Resembling the youthful and full of youth.
O, how that she might, though she be buried young,
May more lovingly call attention to her beauty;
To show how her beauty, and her wit,
With outward signs, but inward signs concealed,
Were wip’d from outward shame in a child.
By this she says, ‘Since thou art but childless,
All my love, all my dear love, my dear love,
Thy true love, let my tears follow thine;
If that should be disturbed, let mine be lighted
Though my self, thy self with thee forsake me.
‘O,’ quoth she, ‘now is it lawful for me
To hunt down a boar, kill him with my spear?
To rob him of his herdsman beard,
To rob him of his gold chain?
to rob him of his fawn’s feathers,
Or kill him with my bloody spear,
Or shoot him dead, or else such a thing,
As is near, but little touches his keen mind;
Then if th’ offender desire,
That the coward’s knife may be well used,
Then my sweet love shall never rob him from his horse;
‘Twas the winter of love,
The first to greet his heralded day;
A yearning for her by nature to know,
As children that did not yet begin
To take advantage of time’s swift onset,
To spend their hours on silly recreances,
As merry old men of fickle minds,
to read the morning paper,
Or hear the morn, the ditty lamenting,
Or read the sad hour, the night’s delight,
Which


======== CHECKPOINT 043 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Loyal of his own might;
The very love of thyself with others’ disdain.
But if a prince, a true husband, be a king,
Or any other true father, no love from him,
Or even a kind heart, but pure for one love,
Or both, but one love, or neither true?
‘”My dear boy,” quoth she, “I saw a man being strangled,
And thought I saw a pretty girl bewitch’d,
And that beauty bewitch’d still another.
My dear boy, I saw a pretty girl bewitch’d,
And that beauty bewitch’d still another.
‘Tis my duty to stop the bleeding,
And to assist the sick and die when thou canst spare.
‘Tis your duty to keep them alive,
And help them, if you can, to stay the dying.
The time comes when I’ll be gone,
And every friend will give a kiss;
Who, thinking that he would see my beauty still bleed,
Pluck’d my neck and tore my thigh with his thrust;
And one by one he takes from me all his strength,
And throws it all in a sad harbour.
‘”Poor boy,” he cries, “this is not my time,
I am sorry of your neglect,
And of your wilful trespass,
Hath done me injustice and trespass’d a part,
With deep-wounded legs, and heavy groans my whole body knows.
My soul in sorrow for thy offence is bereft:
My love is but a feeble shadow,
And a vain hope, till I am able to look for thee.
‘Why, O false thief, shall I not confess
That I am your father, that thou dost make me beguile,
When the truth will prove more than my self beguil:
Therefore will I say to thee, ‘Thy beauty is but a shadow,
And every shadow is my father’s child:
I have seen the shadow in thy face,
And seen the shadow in thy breast, and in thy breast,
And thou in me dost lie;
Then would my blood do the deed, and thou my self would stain:
If thou gav’st my life and mine alone,
And I thou dost live but one life, why die then,
That life with me is liv’d in thee alone?
For that life thou dost live in one dying friend,
I’ll kill myself to bring thee back again:
If that life liv’d elsewhere, thou wilt live,
And that life no more liv’d be liv’d for ever.
“What else can you say but that says so,
What else can you express but that says so
And what else is said so for the one,
Since you all were one, each to love and admire
all that are in you, and in me you most.
What else can you say but that says so,
What else is said, if not then then at least,
that’s what I did for him, for myself and for thee.
But then his spirit had forsook him, and he had fled,
And when he saw that her beauty had died,
With bloodied Lucrece all alone,
That was left in the fire to burn her own place.
O pardon my poor soul, that mine eyes had seen,
In thy pretty cheek I saw some sliver of beauty;
And now for the first time in my memory I see
Beauty in a pure form, of substance,
In form not of substance, but of formless matter,
Hang on that, do not think so, that I love thee,
The very thing I say is true and true.
‘And thou with me shall all these dangers befall,
That thou art tempted to suppose me dead,
If this may be said, I will not live,
Or else I shall in vain say Amen;
And that thou mayst live mayst live in me.
As I love you best, so may my love be,
That in my spite of thee I may live,
As long as thou dost in all these dangers live.
‘For shame’s sake, my love, that honour be’st me;
Thy honour is to me buried in woe,
When woe doth my true love die,
And woe doth mine honour be disburs’d.
‘But then Adonis comes, and bids him join
The fight that is so dear to me;
As he for honour bids Collatine join,
he will, if Adonis be not present,
Thy honour’s rider on thine honour’s back.
‘But poor Brutus, in all his glory,
Thy fair name, but false


======== CHECKPOINT 043 OUTPUT # 004 ========

]
‘Then let me see whether she will let the time pass
When thou shalt hear ‘twixt the world’s ears.
But if she wills, be gone and come back again tomorrow.’
His eyes were wrapp’d in a cloud of white,
And from his bright head he flew with a falling tide.
So she in that night she had imagined him gone,
So now she hath seen him gone again.
‘”That man, that hath my heart, my flesh,
That is my love to you, dear Roman,
With whom I must spend all my mind,
I have no part, but your soul’s part,
I have nothing of all, but your worth’s,
As the earth’s spoil to yours is.
‘”For why?” quoth he, “you were not my eyes?
They did tell my face where you lay,
And if I told them, they would have told me where
Where you would live, and where you would be.
“Since I have been bereaved,” quoth she, “you must excuse me,
You were never my eyes, though you see them now,
And every tongue that hears them mutter them false:
If ever in my memory do call,
My name be buried in eternal truth,
To those that knew my love, or heard of you,
Love to you, for me is all my heaviness:
But if you did know me when I was,
Your love would know, and know how to make me change,
From the ashes of death away.
‘”So with his long-slumbering horse, he plays on the grass,
Like a lame horse, whose rider is slow,
Pitying his owner, and pleading that he pays
The debt of his trespass;
Then are their sighs a repetition of mine,
And from their sighs do my sighs come,
Like snow falling on your golden face,
Which as snow melts, your blood doth it drench,
And you shall never be free.”
‘O Time, thou art my friend! Time is gone, and I am done!
This said, his eyes fell upon Lucrece,
Like crystal balls that she could not perceive;
Her cheek, as white as marble, now stood free,
Like the ocean-going puddle she takes from the water,
Who in a river doth take such delight
That the bottom drops out to drown her;
Now where is she that would not be drown’d,
But in a desperate desperate desperate act?
O thou whose tears do open a flood,
For where hath thy might to flood, where’s thy might to dry?
Look, O fair fair ocean, where have I seen thee weep,
I did not scorn her but thou didst scorn me.
‘”And yet from their hollows did she hear some cry,
And she, bending on her head, loath’d to fall,
Came down, but as she fell she fell again,
Like a cloudless night having dew’d the sun,
And now raining forth fog again dispers’d.
For why dost thou now thy lips look so dark,
When thou art buried in my deeds?
So that I may show thee my truth,
When thou art my true self, and thou art thy self,
Who in thy deeds am I truly made,
Then mayst thou prove to be the thing
That doth thy self hate and fear destroy.
‘Yet being put to death, in that by-passive night,
By that bloodless knife that kills for love,
By that immortal knife that by-passives
Thy light thy life, and all the world away:
For all the world, mine honour is dead,
And all thy fame doth live in thee alone.
The day that I live may be measured by thy deeds,
But that which thou dost live is measured by thine,
And not by thine alone, but by thine alone.
Then would you be fair, my sweet friend, fair sun,
Whose golden rings should cover thy silken face,
Make thy silken locks white again, and thy hair green.
‘Tis but an age to be fond of wrong,
That even to this date, we do ne’er know,
Who ever lived so slight a date,
Whose black darks the world without and in itself lacked.
‘To be revenged on that I have done,
I do not excuse thee:
O excuse me, I am old, and thou art old:
My crime is past and thou shalt never be free,
And all my fame I do hold to shame.
By this I plead your infamy,
And by that I beg the pardon of all my foes


======== CHECKPOINT 043 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Certan thy parts, and to thy parts make them thyself;
Then what purpose do I in this,
Of ruining your beauty?
O not love, but of ruining my truth,
How long can I in vain boast?
So are you two lovers as I am;
And in me you can best grow, if you will live.
How can thou then be remembered,
if love had not lived and died,
It is mine that I can say ‘You are’
And ‘You are’ in mine, but you ‘Have died’
A self-love, that lived to hate me.
But do not say ‘I love’ to him,
I ‘love’ him, in truth is as fair as mine;
Therefore if you love me, be not so mean,
Love-kind, and I ‘love’ you,
You are not my worth, and nothing I do,
(For that I do believe)
Nor am my true love a cloak of wealth,
that I in my modest thoughts,
Shall obscure my true thought in a cloak of hate,
Or my real love a shining torch,
To prove to the world, that you are not mine,
That I love you, because you like me,
And you like me only if you like me
live in spite of your love to die,
The more I pine for your death by living
In spite of your loving love,
And for love that is dead,
Your present living hope, your present living shame,
What is left unsaid remains.
But with thy love, and for love, nothing
But my words, and for your love’s sake,
In spite of that which is best,
O most true love, thou be my witness,
And when I speak, let my words be true,
And all my words be true, in the same breath.
So when the Time’s lord, Dread Lord, desires thy help,
Or the Time’s lord, Dread Lord, agrees that I am
To spend thy time in vain, I will take thee,
By persuasion to thy will, and thence to thy desire;
And sometime to my will, sometime to mine own will,
Then sometime to mine own will, or to my own will,
And sometime to mine own will, do keep my word;
And sometime to mine own will, that would keep my word
The day is past when I shall stay and write,
I am a widow, and my self dies,
The night is ending and I in despair stand,
And weep for thee; that thou mayst live again,
And then let me say, ‘Dear Muse, in thine own will,
Thy love’s life should have been thy main,
And life to thine own self shalt be thy defence;
Since that thou wast thyself thy self, thou shouldst live a king.
‘But that my love may not kill the pride of age,
And that my love may not be condemned in blood,
Though I be the object of a curse,
My love’s influence is waning, my esteem growing
Which means my Collatine in my carriage is woe-bust
With rage, her rage in spite of woe,
And the tears that her eyes shed, have been drained;
‘What of it?’ ‘Not the fault of my poor state!
What of it? let it be the cause;
For to me it belongs, to thee it belongs,
To blame is love’s stain, not his own,
He may be a villain but his brand is thine,
And beauty’s true nature can never be blamed;
Yet when in doubt let him be cast down,
Then love’s truth in me is his shame.”
To this she replies, “That thou mayst not, my love,
When thou mightst break the bank of time,
That life in me, in you, seems endless,
And then there is but one thing left in me,
that in thee I will live.
If thou wouldst live, my love would live again.
To this she replies, “That thou mayst live, my love,
But when in doubt do I make thee swear,
That thou mayst live again, my love,
If thou dost, thou dost swear again.”
‘So long as thou art dead, die thou shalt never meet.”
So then she exclaims, “Let my dying tongue tell,
How sad it must be to die that I die;
Thy voice must be dead, thy voice dead,
My voice dead, my voice dead, thy voice dead!
My voice dead, my voice dead! mine voice dead! thy voice dead! my voice dead! thy voice dead! thy voice dead! my voice dead! thy voice dead! my voice dead


======== CHECKPOINT 044 OUTPUT # 001 ========

LLC for her self-love;
She is not my love, but her lover’s mistress.
“The sun doth not part, but his shade parteth;
‘Twas not raining, but heaven doth rain,
Thou art not raining, but heaven doth rain,
Thou art raining, but heaven doth rain,
Thou art raining, but heaven doth rain,
He is not raining, but heaven doth rain,
So thou art not raining, but heaven doth rain.”
“Alas, love is dead, and I never saw thee there,
I do not think she meant to be,” quoth she, “
Even as she speaks, so he speaks:
She speaks, and he herses, and they theirs,
In succession and rhyme, which they have,
Or given to me in their own hands,
Since they themselves most attainted,
Myself or another their own.
As for thee who gave it to me,
Thy self in thy self-doing act,
To whom it owes, or what owes it
To thee, or to thee at all,
Hath borrowed it, yet did not lend it to thee.
‘Thus saith the Lord of my heart,
The world’s due is in my hand,
And all things to me depend upon thee;
But as my self, my self to thee belongs,
To be of thy good pleasure and to blame,
Oft-sad, and rude, do unto my self praise,
For he is my god, and my fair self to him.
‘Why should I then not despise thee for my deed?
And why should my self to thee seem so bad?
The earth to me is thy store,
And to thee is my body’s origin;
To me is all my honour, my beauty’s store.
Yet ’tis my pleasure to have such thieves steal my fame,
For he steals not beauty’s light, but wealth’s disgrace,
When beauty’s shame alone doth so importune.
Poor fools they are, that in their looks they hide,
For kings, they in their towers stand made,
Who, confounded, do presently unfold
Thy sight, but to their shame by hiding.
Thy eye is thine, thy heart’s form is thine,
If in thine eye thy heart’s form be slain,
If in thine heart’s form thy heart’s death,
Or if in thine heart’s form thine heart’s treason,
If in thy heart’s form thine eyes are blinded,
Which sight hath in his sight blinded,
Thy heart’s form in thine eyes is dead,
And all my part in thine eyes being slain,
The shame of that which thou art to blame,
Thy beauty’s due is in thy sight,
And all my part in thine eyes being slain,
the rich and poor, in league
Against each other to bid a kinder stay;
Sith, ’tis thy sweet design to be rich,
And so to spite thee, keep thy fair store poor,
And make me your slave in that which is most needful.
When thou shalt see me my true self I will bear thee,
Where thou art in my affections, and in my will,
And in my will I’ll give thine, but in thine,
My will the poor will have thine, and mine own will give thee.
Thy servant, my dear love, thou do this more than I:
That’s to thy office is to keep thy heart,
That all thy parts in me are thine,
For then ’tis my heart that thou bear’st to bear,
And that every part of me hath a part,
That I with thee is my love, and therefore thy heart,
muste for Collatine’s death to abide,
The proud bastard of that proud bastard’s estate,
And thou my self, that proud bastard, to slay,
For having done my self wrong, thou hast done my good,
And to this bastard thy self thou hast paid my debt.
‘Why art thou my slave, and yet I thy slave?
Thy self I am, and mine is thy self,
For thou art mine, and mine is thy self,
Thou art thyself, and mine is thy self,
Thou art thyself and mine is thy self,
Thou art thyself and mine is thy self,
Thou art thyself, and mine is thy self,
Thou art thyself, and mine is thy self,
Thou art thyself, and mine is thy self,
Thou art thyself, and mine is thy self,
And mine is thyself, and mine is thy self,


======== CHECKPOINT 044 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Menu of Time’s glory?
Who is so bold that so little skill hath power?
Or else his wit and grace give truth a gloss?
Or else his wit and grace hide truth behind lies?
But thou thy fair sovereign, thy true judge,
And thou the fair sovereign, all the better for me,
I’ll show thee in thine own face,
And in the well-doing place where thou dost lie.
‘Fair lord,’ quoth she, ‘this night I shall not go,
And go myself, that never sees the day.
The better means of relief to me lies,
When the enemy thinks he is blind;
My own shame is greater than thy shame’s.
For why then have my sweet self been left
Dismiss’d in his pride, and mine own shame in blame?
‘Fair lord,’ quoth she, ‘you have the will, I have the will,
To rob and steal from your fair master;
And when this is done, you shall live and your name shall be called,
To rob a neighbour and kill a friend by lies,
To rob a stranger and kill a friend by lies,
To rob a stranger and kill a friend by lies,
‘Then be I not your guest, your guest in me,
And therefore your image should live in me:
For you are but your image in my heart,
And your likeness in mine is no part,
But being your image in me is your part.
‘Fair lord,’ quoth she, ‘you have the will, I have the will,
To rob and steal from your fair master;
To rob a stranger and kill a friend by lies,
To rob a stranger and kill a friend by lies;
Then be I not your guest in my heart,
And therefore your image should live in me:
The only true heaven is to be kept away,
The earth is his store, but here your image lies,
in vain I bid you my love, my love is strong,
And I your love you love to such an age.
O that my love may your love hold the world your esteem,
By which I may your love, your love may be your possession,
Your love to me is your life your possession,
And from me your love doth live, not death.
“Why should I, like a beggar, steal some drops of thy breath?
But when a Roman livery-gazer,
Stuff’d in the pearly elements of a green field,
Showing the world’s tender care and welfare,
Who sometime doth lend a hand to wreath a brow,
And on whose smoothy branches some blossoms sit,
In flowers of all colours, and in all places,
Or in any part of nature’s fair,
What with all their might and effects will live,
A constant strain upon this fair flower’s unity:
But if they prove barren, then all things grow ill.
‘So shalt thou review of my affairs from me,
Then the one fair shepherd that grazed me shall be,
The other a kind of jocund warrior that lay
With his cattle, till he shoot a boar at me,
Whose violent rage with the herd will not leave his rider,
And lead him to a bier where to hang his head:
The one, who will thus lead him thence,
Takes him by force to the saddle and he leaps;
The other, by force, takes him to a river;
And that the Roman might swim there
Doth but nurse his virtue, while the other
Will lead him on with slow rudeness.
‘Foul wretch,’ quoth he, ‘why shouldst thou spend thy days
With this idle talk of idle lust?
For if a false-speaking wretch dwell with thee,
Whose lewd tongue, in doing good, doth livery stain,
Thy self art in danger, and thy good report is slain.
The coward vanquish’d, the fool quenched,
The fool’s tongue quench the coward’s eye;
The coward quench the coward’s eye’s flame;
Whilst the coward quench the fire,
Whilst the coward quench the sun,
Whilst the coward quench the heat of battle.
So many a times have I invoked thee to my grace,
And for thy good work I’ll show thee where I’ll spend my days,
So that thou mayst find a dwelling where I’ll live.
The lily white pluck’d from the rose bough,
Whereon she would with tender fingers lay,
Whose bare fingers her soft fingers upon did caress,
Whose smooth fingers did her soft fingers upon feel,
Whose soft fingers did her soft fingers upon feel fill:
That


======== CHECKPOINT 044 OUTPUT # 003 ========

Sin is to my eyes but the shadow of his true face;
And to his face my words are but his,
Even so my love doth live in him,
To those in him mine eyes have power to see,
And in him my love doth live a sham,
That not my lips may speak his words,
And in his false face my words may be understood,
And in him my lips can never speak his name.
‘Why should I not honour my love by telling my story?’
She answers, ‘If ever I was in love,
And ever with thee was my love alive,
Or ever with thee were your love dead,
Then would you be mine, and then the thought would seem
The worse for me now to think of thee.
“O let the turtle return and do not leap;
The eagle, the green morn, the beauteous dove,
are but shamblers, not agents of some good intent;
Whilst they in secret surfeits do devise,
As if the object were some heinous crime,
they should not rob a widow of their breath;
And if they were, she would not rob her husband dead;
But the thief, in her adulterate eyes,
Gives the husband his freedom, the wife her husband’s disgrace.
‘But in that case, how shall I be revenged?’
To make my woe hear those thoughts which my heart
Teach me to say, ‘I love you but so much more;
The worst was the best, and my best was worse.’
When poets have translated the sad-tun’d lines
Of helpless women, or beggars’ stories,
They have cited Lucrece’ mother’s story,
And she is as telling of that which she saw.
“I am a dumb child,” quoth she, “now you see
That I will not learn to read the wise,
I will not love you more than you like;
But do not so, because you lack grace;
And lo the time your words are too short,
In mine eyes thou gav’st my beauty spent,
And I their waste to be kept fresh from thee;
That is to say, thy time in me is wasted.
That Time is but a toy of Time’s ill
Till Time’s proudest invention is to teach us what to do,
And with that time, we imitate what he did
With things we have not;
And in Time’s sights nothing is new,
For nothing is learned, nor nothing is true,
But nothing else is, but Time’s delight.”
“And now in thought’s prime, the shadow hath come,
That all things mortal may behold,
Which life in spite of death’s decay may inhabit:
As death, that death to me hath sworn,
Sets no bounds on this praise,
For death to me, to thee belongs this shame.
Let there then be peace, and there no strife,
Beauty, and truth, beauty’s adjunct,
Whose parts are in harmony,
And beauty in love seems both sweet and unjust,
That both must strive with beauty to win;
As if we were foes, or at least foes of one beauty,
We both were foes, and that foe is dead,
With beauty dead and alive.”
“If he have the heart of a devil, let him not preach;
If he possess a devil’s heart, let him not preach;
If he possess a fool’s heart, let him not deceive;
If he possess a deceiver’s heart, let him not deceive;
If he possess a true god, let him possess
A devil’s heart, a true god’s, a fool’s god, a god
And I the world to him be worshiped,
Thou wast thy advocate to the world that doth dwell,
The world’s fair queen to be thine iniquity,
who in the world’s fair might
As Venus herself in the sun doth stand,
And in the sky with her beauty doth stand,
And in the sun doth stand Venus and her lover.
Who in the world is not more beautiful than
The sun itself in glory doth sit,
With his beauty crowned like that of the sun,
But in the night doth she mock her beauty made,
And in the day doth he mock her beauty made bright.
‘This night shall not pass by day nor night by night
Nor night by day nor night by day,
Nor day nor night, nor day shall ever touch thee,
nor night, nor day, nor night ever touch thee.’
He gives her a deep groan, and she a kind look,
And when he again begins to speak,
She grasps his cheeks, but her lips are white,
And


======== CHECKPOINT 044 OUTPUT # 004 ========

Asheville:
For the sight that peepeth in his chariot;
But I tell you the world is not fair:
O, if love be fair, why should beauty hide,
And vice-versa seek to destroy it?
For to love, truth is but the instrument;
To love, reason is no tool,
Truth is not beauty’s instrument,
Reason’s instrument is love’s hand,
Reason’s instrument is hate’s ear,
Love is neither tongue nor eye but none;
A woman’s eye is better than a man’s;
Love is like a dove, with an arch mast
That crosses the shallow bank of a fount
That no one can catch but by his wing.
‘But have they heard the bell, the laden bell
That men, to wake up their slaves,
Came and sought their lily; whereupon they rose,
As if they had heard the day’s news.
When they saw the news, ’tis plain they did not look;
And with a sudden fear they tore up their eyes,
As if by some crafty spirit the matter were troubled.
This did her fury confound, and she fell;
But the cry that ‘She-she’ brought forth
Was no moan, but the sound of ‘She’.
“Who didst thou kill, or what of your blood
Your love will bear in my name?”
Or how might you have lent me more,
That I should be your living copy?
For I have been your publisher, your seal,
And you have kept in your seal both my name and fame.
‘For I love the way you use it,
And the way you like it you prefer,
To every thing that is good in you,
you can do nothing else to change my mind.
‘So, being overcome with her ill-wresting,
Her eyes were all red with joy, and all giddy,
As if from some invisible portal she might pass,
From thence the portal she would open,
And there she would be led away,
So that all was fair in her view,
To gaze upon that which was dear to her sight,
And then would she show the way, and so play
With what she saw, to please herself with thoughts;
Such antics would seem childish in the world,
In which her thoughts would be so fair,
That their effects might better be imagined:
But no such grace can be found in you
that can so well convey your beauty
To those you see in your true field.
I love the way you use it,
And the way you like it you prefer,
To every thing that is good in you,
To every thing that is dear to you.
O how much less art thou an image than me!
O how much less you were a living creature,
When all these beauties have died, and no living thing can express,
To live you in the eyes and in your eyes,
If the world could read your true form,
And see what you did do with your living form.
And for that, all these beauties did incur
Pain, but love did not inflict it on them.
‘Then I love, and I love with all my heart,
As if I were a mermaid that did so delight,
And was not so fair a god to shame my sight.
‘Then I hate, and I love, and I love, and I love,
And I’ll do again,’ quoth she, ‘if you like’—
‘Will,’ quoth he, ‘do me the favour of this kiss;
The moment I’ll break from this pattern,
And return again to my bed,
Thou art the fairest, and the first to see me in bed.
And every poor fool shall see thee fall,
And being tempted, yet he will not tempt thee again.
And to the black night, where still his dear mistress lies,
All in vain she plots his doom;
She locks the door, yet no lock is seen.
For heaven’s sake, let our love remain,
And not let this unkindness make our dear vows.
O let us weep, and cry Amen,
‘O heavenly blood, blood of holy love!
Let us weep, and cry Amen,
O heavenly blood, blood of heavenly love!
Let us mourn, and cry Amen,
Let us weep, and cry Amen,
let us weep, and cry Amen,
‘Poor creature, thou poor creature, thou worthless devil!
Let us weep, and cry Amen,
Look what sorrow can do;—look what it feels;—how it grieves;—it grieves so, so grieves;—it grieves so, so hurts;—it grieves so


======== CHECKPOINT 044 OUTPUT # 005 ========

Billy (Cynthia, Lucrece, and the Romans) are nothing less than fools and traitors to thee.
And I thee, thy love, are the chief commanders in this siege:
And for their honour with thee, so blame them not.
“O, that false Venus might iniquity be
In this false love make a false tear,
By deceiving him in the way of love;
Or by betraying him in such a false deed;
For why should he in turn betray himself?
So may her false lips prove such a truth:
So may her false cheeks be the mirror to her true cheek,
As they who in their beds view best what is seen.
‘To slay me thus, to win my life,’ quoth she,
‘O I thy love, I’ll kill thee,’ quoth she, ‘and that’s all;
But thou art all, and me all, and that all,
Thou all, in thee dost be all foes.’
‘Ay me,’ quoth he, ‘if I live, thy life is forfeit;
As if the life of mine own being wasted,
He who makes me suffer, shall in my suffering live.
If he live, mine dear love suffers, and so my life be damned,
When in thy face thou make thine own self proud.
‘When thou art dead, thou wast once my father;
And now thou live’st not thy last, thy present is present’st.
To have that which was yours for which it was given
Hath bred another, that was thy father’s.
Now I have my father’s love, and in him is bred
The love of love to be, of love to be.
‘”O,” quoth she, “this is my husband’s account,
So that no one in his right might accuse me
Of any wrong I may owe thee;
My mistress’ eyes’ lust in mine own lust did
Dissuade me of my love, and made me hate him less,
Because he in me did deceive thee.
I might as yet have been thy lover,
But now I am your lover, and you in me you deceived.
And thou that dost adulterate steal,
Thy self that in thine own will deface,
will not forgive thy trespass;
for her, that thou didst kill her,
Came and sat by her side, and gave her one kiss.
Thou mak’st no trespass by my murder,
Or by thy trespass by stealing her life;
But if I kill thee that thou leave’st me alone,
The bullet to kill me may still be struck.
O if thou kill’st me of thyself, what shame dost thou find
By my death I did incur thee this heinous deed.
“Thou fool,” quoth she, “be my witness
That I am the author of this sad crime.
Thou mak’st no excuse for this shameful deed;
I am not guilty; not guilty of that;
But this guilty verdict shall disgrace thee so,
And thou mak’st no excuse for this heinous deed:
Since I am not guilty, I cannot confess,
Of perjury, I will not plead it;
Though perjury be hard for me, to swear it is hard.
So doth my love keep silent,
And whispers ‘Shall be quiet for fear of further harm;
Even so, she calls it ‘the night-owl’s wink’.
‘But be it not, thou wilt have more pity for me,
than for thy trespass did my sister curse me;
Even so, my love forbade my love to leave her;
She for shame put on some sort of mourning gage,
And left me with Adonis, in peace.
‘So he hath the torch, and by his side
Some silver-tongued hand, which he throws to light,
Tells the tender heart to praise the sweet smell;
Shall prayers and sweet oblations help him to stay;
For if his heart be tied to any stone,
He must bow before his lord and tell them he hath no love,
So let them be as sovereign lords be;
For kings are lords, princes are lords.
The guilty party must confess the guilty.
‘Yet thou art a virgin, that in thy bosom’s tide
Came hither in the time of youth to see her;
Yet thou art a woman’s daughter of mine,
Sometime spent in that care, to spend some time with thee.
But that thou dost attend to spend time with men,
While beauty lives in thee, and art young,
That thou mayst see her alive when thou art old,
And when she dies, thou livest dead, as thou art


======== CHECKPOINT 045 OUTPUT # 001 ========

Interface with his own image,
Sick as he is of the world, so mine own sickly face,
Thy self doth live, and that which is thy self so abhorred:
But thou (my self) art so abhorred that thou wilt live,
Thy self art still and mine own dead image,
And that which thy self so gloriously doth call,
Thy self outstrips that which thy self dost hide,
And yet this glory doth still live,
And this thy image still lives.
That in thee the world view is made,
That in me the world view is not made,
That my soul in the mind is left
To see the sad spectacle of thy decay,
For where your shadow lies, thy self being cast,
My shadow in thee is made of thee,
I have no grounds to mourn
If thou excuse’st me to do my duty,
But by my presence is thy trespass so commended:
No cause is so abhorred
That mine own offence is not sought,
And my own fault is so confounded
That mine own guilt acquit thee
From blame and guilt for my offence’s breach,
And from my guilt acquit thee
From blame and blame for my fault’s breach
Thou, my guilt is thine alone,
And thy guilt for my offence being together:
Thou, my guilt, thy guilt is thy own guilt
And, my guilt, thy guilt is my guilt’s guilt:
This in thee is my fault, this my fault in thee,
Thy fault in thee is thy fault, thy fault in thee,
Thy guilt in thee is thy guilt’s fault,
And thine own fault is thy fault in me,
Thy fault in thee is thy guilt’s fault.
This last is why thou shouldst be absent:
Inferior to thy worth are thy qualities
Which in thee should seem thy beauty.
So therefore thou must be my guest,
A thousand fold’s worth a thousand worlds to behold,
Which, though to myself I never saw,
O lest from these fair eyes some misdeeds lie,
That on my dying image die they truth may dwell,
If the time be weary and death be speedy,
My suffering sorrow to time seems like a pilgrimage.
The rich with silver and precious jewels,
The poor with plaits and wrinkles endure
All this in one place, while still they wait on thee.
“The night, sweet friend, thou art but asleep,
The sun shines not to greet thee, but to torment thee,
To burn thy face with his shade, that thou mightst get some light.
O how the eye doth look, for beholding stars,
That doth the better see the foul in my blood,
And what dost thou mean by foul in me?
“This night I will kill my life, this night I will kill thee,
This day I will kiss thine own sweet heart,
this sweet thing sweet that thou lov’st,
And then thou shalt curse the world, I hate it so.
O let me not be false to the earth,
When I prophesy this day’s doom,
When in the morning ‘Twixt ten and twenty thou gav’st,
And all thy good hopes have expired,
And no more shall the world hunt down the sun,
And all the world’s treasure vanish in his dim night,
For evermore the world doth mine eye hunt thee.
This he will say, till thy spirit give more light,
Then I will kiss the earth with kisses, and give thine,
For evermore shall my love drown thy soul,
And live thou another’s child in my shame.
This she says, till my spirit give more light
Than his that by turns turns from hand to hand doth lend,
Whilst mine own light doth lend, mine own light doth spend,
And so my love dies and my own light lives in thee.
To make the fiend mad with his foul deeds,
As from out a furnace he sets fire to light,
To make him a silly boy to entertain
With silly antics his silly creatures entertain:
O then would the fair queen have me there
As the maid that gives my stay to her;
My mistress’ face in a pure state would weep.
O let me not be false to thy love’s decease,
Thy love’s false heart, sweet heart, and false mind,
For thou wilt have thy true heart, mine false heart,
Mine false heart mine true mind, mine true mind,
Mine false heart’s false mind’s false mind’s false mind,
Mine true mind’s true mind’s true mind’s false mind.
Yet should my true love in my self die,


======== CHECKPOINT 045 OUTPUT # 002 ========

/* the rich had daff’d;
And beggars that rich were not their equipage:
But peasants, that poor but rich,
Were tenants of their wealth, in abundance,
Not stewards in their wealth nor tenants in their shame.
O, how her beauty and that fair face
Of that fair hue were both beauties to me,
Then did she behold a sweet rose growing,
And in it were phraseless and unapplied,
Heralding in her pretty eyes beauty and beauty’s radiance.
The sun, on the sweet rose being set,
Sits upon the mountain top; and it is set,
To greet the sun that doth so gloriously light,
that in his shining glory,
Sits the phoenix down, and down again
Each time a smiling star to greet his friends:
Such gentle astronomy, so true
That we have no sin nor reason to doubt,
Where every sin looks like one fair night’s fair.
Who in his fair perfection would have so hard forsook,
Poor beauty’s foil, to hide her true face,
And now her face so plain and so simple,
That the thought of all her beauty would hide.
‘Yet beauteous thou art! thou art so kind!
Thou art such a kind spirit to me!
To think upon such an unwilling face,
Whose pure nature would not leave a stain,
To think upon such a wretched eye,
Such an abhorred disgrace should thy state reign,
And no such thing shall ever dwell
In one’s spiteful imagination,
Which is so full of blame, so full of blame’s pride.
When thou wilt fill the world with such wretched sorrows,
As those in thy brain’s memory fill with memory,
The hours of thy sorrows, the hours thou fill,
And hours thy weary hours give thee ecstasy,
And hours thou lov’st in thy doting soul’s strife,
The hours spent in vain counting thy hours:
Then do thy eyes behold the night that thou dost stay,
And thou hast the morn, thou hast the wind,
But this thou hast the clouds, and all the sky,
And for my music to rehearse thee live,
For my music to rehearse thee sing,
And all the world to see what music is made of.
Or else the world would rehearse me with grief,
for his advantage she doth take;
But what he seeks, she finds barren;
And nothing else is so much of a hind.
When in the midst of so much lamentation,
Her lamenting eye hath lain dark upon her,
Which makes him look pale and sad;
For some unknown purpose, she thinks he mean;
When in truth he mean’st no such thing:
His face is all white, his lips are rough, his beard is long,
His cheeks bulge, his blood boil, his chin, his chest lean,
And then she begins: ‘I kill myself; kill myself again.
And kill himself, the other by my side:
But if there be such an office to slay me,
Thy self in that thy self shalt live,
Thy self to be buried thy self in thine,
Thy self in thine own body shalt be thy sepulchres.
‘The maid that weeps at our woes shall bear them,
Though they themselves may suffer the slaughter.’
And this she in her ecstasy so doth,
Gives in her a deep groan, and he takes,
Lending it strength, and gives it new life.
‘O Love,’ quoth she, ‘do not be dismayed,
Thy eyes are but sweet and kindling,
Whilst I in them are flame, yet they bright,
That to their fair red cheeks are hid
Sweet blossoms, in thy cheeks are painted sweet!
But in thy sweet buds are deceits,
As in sweet buds I prove thy love.
O Love, what a wondrous sight it was!
The roses did cover it with purple blood;
And red would burn with burning shame,
For in the rose had no marking right,
But on the ground below it fell,
Like flaming smoke, with that red fire burning,
Whose fire doth with the fire burn the world away.
‘O Time, how hast thou not seen how Time doth wail this cruel night?
Now come, O beloved friend, here I lie,
For thou hast set a bloody hand upon my brow.
‘But wherefore hast thou the power of Will,
That will not alter his will,
Even as he who deceives himself in his will?
O how that my will which I hold in trust
May thus be harmed, thou art thy


======== CHECKPOINT 045 OUTPUT # 003 ========

embed, the chief good, to be desired, in him is due, and not in him derive
The merit of every good,
Fair or unkind, for his object be praised;
So that you, the owner of every good,
That all your fair thoughts, should all praise be,
That you your fair self, should all your self praise,
Would be your love and self your self your self proud.
‘Thou wronged morn, I will not mourn the death,
When thou hast done this murd’rous deed to me.
‘For he that harms him, commits treason;
And every one that touches him, commits the crime;
For who, so guilty of his crime commits it,
Thy guilty pleasure thus by thy crime may be cured?
Yet wilt thou be too kind to speak ill of me,
By encouraging my false modesty to speak ill of thee,
Which is all too fair to breed in me this slander,
What then is thy excuse for my defame?
My shame shall I not list here the fault,
My shame shall not the more denote my guilt:
For in thy guilt my shame is a guilt,
Thy guilt is not my guilt’s shame;
Thy guilt is my guilty shame’s guilt,
My guilty guilt is my guilty guilt’s guilt,
My guilty guilt is guilt’s guilt’s guilt,
My guilt is not my guilt’s guilt,
My guilt is my guilty guilt’s guilt;
Thy guilt is my guilt’s guilt, my guilt is not thy guilt.
‘But now ‘Twixt Tarquin and Adonis
The lines of Lucrece’ Trojan battle,
Upon her brow a bloodless pale stretched
Stuffing forth the wound that she had suffered;
When by an eye ’tis blazoned,
A tearless blushing pale doth cover it;
Sometime, like a weeping morn, her tears stand:
Her hair and eyelids roll about her face,
Like blood in a river that would carry it away.
‘Then is she revenged on him that did inflict her injury;
He was not her debtor; she was his;
He did her no wrong; she was the one.”
‘Now this is done,’ quoth Collatine, ‘a pretty grove,
That Tarquin’s father, Tarquin his son,
Will play the wolf; and that too shall he play;
For they both are lords, and they both desire
Beauty in general, beauty in their pride;
They that live in absolute things do augment each other.
And all this she seeks, till she finds none,
Even there she dotes on a rose she drew,
And in it painted her fear;
And when she saw the lily pale,
Her fear with a frown it took away.
That Collatinus in her pride did dwell
Into this sad picture is admir’d;
So Collatinus is reprehended,
And Tarquin receives the blame for his help:
‘O,’ quoth Collatine, ‘look what is so commend’d,
That beauty was the first to grace our lips,
And then again to their lips’ praise,
that I am one with thee I am not of thee,
Thou wilt have but to blame me sometime,
But I my self, being thee, have nothing of thee.
But I will be thy constant object,
And then thy help I will be thy slave,
And then thou wilt be the slave to take me.
“To thee,” quoth she, “this is your last,
Thou mak’st some silly talk, and tell it to me,
To show others what a fool they are.
Thy true voice may in truth be better,
To show men wrong in their folly of speaking.
‘But as thou art gone,
The winds are heavy with wind, and yet
The sun is down and clouds drench’d.
O, behold that black eye of hers,
Whose wide-hoof’d eyne looks upon the cloudless sky,
Which on thy visage still doth dwell;
This fair orb, as it were cast in the brook,
Is mov’d with the moisture of the water,
Which likewise cools the visage so the hot water doth stay,
Which thus doth the hot water in turn cool:
For this, being done, the hot water cool’st,
Cooling my visage to the cold cool’d water,
Which thence doth my eyes behold,
Making me see as they see others do.
‘O thou blind star, thou swallow’st my sight,
And if I see another star, that beauteous,
I’ll kiss him red and black,


======== CHECKPOINT 045 OUTPUT # 004 ========

Zah, for she knew what it was;
And from the deep embrack whereon Lucrece lay,
A messenger from Collatium with this dire note,
Came, this dear Lucrece, to give:
Till from her a loud and heavy cry,
So true a woe is to her was she told,
As when a child doth cry, ‘O thou, who dost beguile
My voice, to sing thee in scorn?
In truth, if this dream be true,
Harm have I done unto thy name, and against my will,
Thine is life and thy slander,
And all my judgment hath no power to check
His every foul woe, nor his foul moan,
And every sound but thine, is enough to drown him.
But if thou wilt destroy thy love,
The more thou shalt think that I did destroy thee.
‘This told,’ quoth she, ‘I will,’
And bring her thaw’d torch;—now look, I hate to see
Such dreadful sight as this dire-sighted thing doth see;
But with my tongue do I beg of thee,
That you do speak my sorrows, what dost thou say?
And who hears thy poor pleading,
When no one to weep over thy woes?
The world in my love is divided,
From bosoms all alike making love,
And hearts all together, but no one love to weep
For one man, none together love, not even one.”
‘O!’ quoth she, ‘how much happier a world to live
Were not to live with her in a second wretched age,
Thine eye would not behold thy beauty,
Even if thy heart could see what it was!
Thy eye would not take the picture so well,
Thy eye would not love the best of beauty:
Thy eye would not view thy beauty in thy life,
And love, to put a sweet ending on thy woe,
Shall bid thy sweet self return in disgrace,
Even to this end hath she gone, and now she sits.
My verse, though not all-wise correct,
Tells my heart to my lips, what sounds thy heart make.
‘Dear mother,’ quoth she, ‘it shall be thy duty,
To tell me what’s so sweet about thee;
What’s so sour about thy state, or thy state’s sake?
Or what’s so foul about thy state’s spoil?
Or what’s so gross about thy state’s discontent?
Or what’s so pure a state or a state’s crime?
And all these answers you will ask,
Will answer all my needs, and all my needs will give.
As many as you my self in this book owe
Give me all thy self, for thou my self dost give,
And by this my self alone dost give.
Thy self dost be dead, my self still alive,
My self dost rise again, and this time die,
for he is dead, and thy heart is alive,
Yet if thou shalt be a worshipper of thine,
A dispenser thy poor heart doth lend,
From whom thou gav’st what needs thee most,
Whilst thou dost feed upon thy poor diet.
‘”Lo here weeps the maid that lives with us,
Her eyes are full with tears and frowns,
As if her brows had fled for tears,
when the time had ended,
A pretty pale-fac’d child, brandish’d in a white kennel,
With silver chain, untrimmed, did presently take,
From the wardrobe of the queen of love,
To give a little token of her affection,
And kiss the well-wished princess’ sweet heart,
She being done thus, would not answer his call.
‘”If,” quoth he, “all men are created equal,
And if aught else but their worth be hid,
What fair thing else can a man do but praise,
And wear that which nature hath not created,
When she herself is the owner?
If she were, mine alone was mine,
But in the power of nature I grant so.
O, if some strange accident ever do me,
From thence I will not return,
For I am but your slave, and your mistress;
To do me shame, do me fear;
For my mistress is dead, my slave, my slave dies.
O yes, she did, and so did she;
‘Tis lawful for one man to kiss another,
That one man’s body to kiss another’s body,
Even if one man kiss’d the other’s heart,
But if both be of the same mind,
One kiss might both be


======== CHECKPOINT 045 OUTPUT # 005 ========

heights of his own accord;
With his right and left, Collatine, stood as one,
As one man’s horse or one man’s rider.
So with them he fought, and the Greeks,
With him neither side could pass the battle.
“If he be of my blood, and it ever so passeth,
My love’s flame shall burn like a pureflower,
Then that sweet flower which in the flower is sweet,
That sweet flower shall evermore be chang’d
To the taste of the grave and to the air.
O, if a man like me bewitch’d,
Then in all my earth my sweet self will abide,
The fire from the world’s heat shall burn my sweet self,
Who by this thy sweet fire doth my sweet self forsake.
‘The thought that this thy foul act might ever get rid
From thy sweet bosom the thought that this foul act might ever get rid
From thy sweet bosom the thought that this foul act might ever get rid
From my lips, thy lips, thy lips, thy lips’ pure air,
I vow to keep from this false charge the rest of thy time,
Where thou thy father doth live and his posterity live.
Thence comes the hot call of the spring,
Which calls it that spring’s golden bell,
And that heavenly name that all those heavenly gardens giveth;
And all these gardens that now you see
Each fresh ornament of them you view,
From thy beauty’s fresh rose to thy golden bud,
And all these gardens that now you see,
From thy beauty to thy golden bud,
And all these gardens that now you see
each fresh ornament of them you view,
From thy beauty to thy golden bud,
And all these gardens that now you see,
Each fresh ornament of them you view,
From thy beauty to thy golden bud,
And all these gardens that now you see,
every thing beauty in you that was
Of little worth could hide;
Then were I not of your beauty, you with all your worth
Would have hid all things you did not possess.
As for you, mine eye you know shines red,
As yours for the day, from your brow bright I sing.
The lily on the duteous green rose
Will soon to her detriment, and yet still doth thrive.
As they sleep, each rubbing her wet eye,
Holds what little thought she thinks, to see what it contains.
The painter once told her this story,
‘Her face is like the fairest of all fairs,
When thou shalt see her beauty in it amended.
So shalt thou be contented when thou art contented,
I think this verse but poorly composed,
As if it should ever pass through the stream,
Whereon the sober beholds our sinful muse,
Who dares not think that we have sinned,
Hath done our part to convert thee,
To show thy beauty in the most wretched sense,
Or at least in that hopeless sense,
That thy sweet self should be made the tomb.
“But now,” quoth she, “my lord, thou didst kill me,
And yet my life was not thy aid,
And yet life’s help is thy aid now,
I hate to hear of you, but that’s no excuse.”
“Ay me!” quoth he, “no, no, no, no!”
‘Tis true, and all things fair are so foul that
The more than one name must have:
That I my self must be called, and of that name
There is no self that can live and die.
But when I have writ this letter, and thou art willing,
Then my self shalt live and die, and thou shalt not be:
My self shall live, and thou shalt be thy slave.
‘That my poor body that cannot keep up this rest
Save through thy sweet aid shalt thou art forced,
And thou shalt drown in the bayou’st of the sea,
That is, not to exceed thee,
But to this poor unprovident sum of water,
Thy beauty in thee is to die, thy beauty in me.
‘O thou Muse, do not despise thy face
As I do abhor thy beauty,
Thy beauty in thee is to die, thy beauty in me.
For thou art but vain to view my face,
When I in thee such vile infamy reigns,
That in thy likeness I do aspire,
To be your beauty and likeness still:
Then, in that which thou art, my likeness still reigns,
To be thy beauty, and be thy beauty still,
For to this fading beauty do I aspire:
I hate not beauty dead, but life still,
And life still, for that which thou wast


======== CHECKPOINT 046 OUTPUT # 001 ========

saf, with that lusty spirit which in thee doth feed.
‘”Fie, fie, and fie,” quoth she, “let me not look upon thee so infamy:
To kill a god whose creation amazes
With such violent lust, my body will swear that thou hast done,
And thou shalt lose my life in spite of the sword.
‘”And straightway he throws on a sad show,
To show his proud flank the spoils of war,
Saw his valiant face with proud youth, now full grown,
With bold youth, now full grown, with proud youth,
With proud pride now full grown, with proud pride
With pride now full grown, with proud pride,
And now this proud show of victory is torn,
This bloody Roman shield, this Roman spear,
Till death itself grant the gift of victory,
And thou dost forfeit the world to my will.
By this, the warlike Collatine began to jest;
His greenish change, in hue, with red rage,
Appeared at the doors of many a city;
His red and gold terms struck fear in all,
Making him think on nothing but wealth,
To see his silver and gold equipage.
This thought she hears and interprets to his ear;
He answers with a sigh, and bids her catch the feather,
And so they fly again to Troy, where they will fight;
Then again she says, “This is not good, this is not fair.”
‘And yet,’ quoth she, ‘without cause why do I shun?
Even as Opportunity takes me away
From my thoughts, I fear him still, for fear of his will.
‘O fear, O truest lie, false and defamatory!
Hateful to wrong, and full of foul alteration!
Not contented though I in thy deeds live,
By all outward signs or signs thou hast harmed;
Thy pride is but a league of subtle love,
And every tongue so proud drowns in this foul praise.”
Thus, quoth she, his passion did bring him
To his fore-arching bosom, where they lay;
This did seal his loathsome thoughts in his ear;
‘So long have I been deaf, and so oft have I cried,
For hearing you now again, and lo, you shall belong.
This vow I made unto the lechers,
Who like to chase their prey, bid them keep quiet;
Who, with fearful eyes, fear’d they would not move;
Like spirits of slumber still held sway,
To tempt their foes with a desperate fight;
Then were they slain, the moment was nigh,
And all pursuers dead, all foes out.”
In this falchion lies the young, and the old,
With golden foil on each cheek was affixed
Each precious jewel, of both sexes’ worth,
From whence came it, by this power drew
The mortal eye, from hence onwards drew
To the mortal eye the prize of eternal youth;
Wherefore, by this power did it disgrace
That in mortal sight beauty was taught
To do mortal wrongs, which were committed
With mortal eyes. ‘But as thou wast in temptation,
Thy inward self being tempted, so thy outward
Self perforce commits this crime.
The cedar will not bear the sun that it pollutes;
The dove will not leap the cloud that it doth cover;
The rose will not flower the crown of its rose;
The violet and the deep alabaster,
Are mingled in one, and yet neither the other.
Thus is she wound up, with one hollow heart she bears,
And all these parts lack one accord,
The dove being mute, so the rose blushes,
And all the earth’s beauty doth falter;
For then her eyes are fix’d on the sun,
And his lips on the ocean:)
Hast thou done, thy servant was too late.
Hast thou done all this to persuade me,
That thou the sovereign in me is sway,
By force of will, or of words, or of pattern?
In the former case, though words are my guide,
Their true scope is in me to judge,
The rest in thee to persuade me of their truth,
Though words be nothing but a compass to your compass.
For my part, I hold thee in my own heart,
The whole is thine, the sum of many,
The one I in thy image lies,
The other to thee is thy sum, which by thy parts
Is confounded, confounded still, still confounds.
‘To win this treasure I must first rob the brook,
And rob the store I in my heart so well yields


======== CHECKPOINT 046 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Abortion’s sweet smell, her sour smell, her hot desire, all these present: now, thou gav’st me, wilt thou use them all in one?
O let my breath breathe in new faith, that by faith thou mayst call,
By my love and love’s love-kindness shall I live,
I’ll call thee to thy pure bosom, and thou in thy bosom,
With perfumed sweets thou art,
I’ll be thy good boy, and for thee I’ll stay:
For thou hast sent down this devil from heaven,
That in thee this devil hath crept,
To ravish the holiest and most precious jewels of this land,
For my true love is a thing of beauty gone mad:
My beloved lost, this dear friend to be found,
Thy love in me, that which thou dost confound,
Grows like a summer’s day, and thence like a storm,
Birds batter’d, and trees down; rain falls, and thunder doth hush the place;
She exclaims, and the wind answers,
With plaintive note, and doth answer what she says,
Or tells her what she wants to hear, or what she should say.
‘”Lo, this is a burning bush, that burns so hot,
With flaming sap hanging down, and deadly lust
With crimson fire, and red chill, and deep ravishment;
This burning bush, like a ruined temple,
Lends her eyes to the fire, and her lust
To burn, in a second fire burneth in blood.
‘Why dost thou invert the course of my day,
While thou invert the course of my night?
By why do I stay at this hour from thee?
If by me thou leave’st time such advantage to spend,
I will ride thou on the crest of my pride,
A thousand proud victories assured of victory;
And thou, that gave my life to fight,
To bear thy self no less the expense of conquest,
Would yet triumph, and yet no victory be wracked.
“Lo here I was a careless lad, fresh out of school,
Musing what were thoughts or what could be said,
How my love in thought might be amended,
When thought might be corrupted and change my thought,
For in such a conceit should thoughts proceed,
Thou couldst, with beauty’s help, devise a better word,
To express thy love to a friend or to another.
For that is my love, and I am the author
Of his love; if thou make my name another,
I hate not him if thou art in love with him.”
‘O Time, if it be true, the world will not hear
That the voice of thine is in my head,
A vengeful spirit that should stain my life with mutiny.’
The wise Muse takes no notice of that name,
And by and by calls the place,
The better angel would not wink her wink.
, so she did but make a vow,
To keep silent as one still should weep.
‘If by chance my poor babe be lost,
I shall hold my tongue to this end,
And swear falsely that he lives, and in thee,
The thing he sought must be slain.
“Thou shalt not cross the threshold that leads to my bed,
As I shall not cross the threshold that leads to thee,
Because thou art the only one that crosseth me so.
thou shalt not kill me, nor my love, nor thy servant,
Though death by poison be thy self thy last,
Thy servant may live, and my dear love live thine,
Thy self slain, thy friend is thy partner still.”
‘What shall I say? I will not say it shall be said,
As is all foul slander, though it be true.
My wife is dead; my children are grown old.
If a false witness should arise
From the bottom of her heart, her tongue could not tell,
The child would weep, and in it would appear
His sad face, in tears.
‘In vain,’ quoth she, ‘I will not bewitch thee
By thoughts so false and so mild;
I’ll give thy dear wife a kiss;
I’ll bewitch her so with a kiss so tame.’
And with these words Adonis, whose visage stood
Upon his lance, do thy lips their fair fair trim
Under the suppos’d influence of Venus’ face:
Their fair colours doth likewise play the part,
As fair as flowers when they pollute thee:
To thee I pray that thou wilt have patience,
Even to parting forbear thoughts;
For if thou wilt wilt leave these fair grounds and come again,
The fault shall


======== CHECKPOINT 046 OUTPUT # 003 ========

TRANSHO! thou art not the heavenly gift of the heart,
And like a fickle worm, when the heart desires,
Thy sting is but feeble; and being full, thy sting dies,
As soon as thy sting again is faint,
The worm bites at thine sweet heart again.
“What art thou that’s mad at me?” quoth she, “perhaps I am,
To rob thee of my wife, thy life, thy life’s sake?
O yes, I am angry, and yet I do relent;
Then do not despair that my poor soul, thy life,
May yet be thy life slain by the knife’s sting!
And yet thou in my life mayst be slain,
Unless thou, my love, wouldst leave me alone.
O love, what a pity that thou thy self shouldst betray,
To betray thy self by betraying me,
By stealing thy soul’s life, thy life’s shame!
O truant love, what a pity shouldst thou give,
To leave the disgrace of your shame!
By that I must conclude this matter,
Since my heart hath sworn to betray thee,
And swore to betray thee still more,
I do vow to thee, and that thou’ll bear it
When thou dost bear false witness to my perjury:
The worst slander that ever my name canst say,
Thou canst not bear to die, and yet I know
Thy legacy will never be forgot,
And never live again in thine eyes’ praise.
O, what a shame then that thou art,
Since I never couldst make thee my love,
Nor ever woo thee in such a mortal woo,
The vengeful spirit hath tied thee to the ground,
Who, like a vengeful worm, hooks the wound in his gore.
‘Nor can it pass unadvised among you,
Even where no man’s spirit hath crept;
In your gardens, where no man hath sought for shelter,
No man’s tongue, no man’s tongue can sing;
Yet ’tis thy voice, and I will not tame thee;
To whom all those impediments must bow:
To Tarquin, who alone stands in his way,
Who by chance doth defy the swiftest arrow
Will not miss thee, and yet I know
How to win thee back thou must conquer:
If you are weak I crave a tongue,
so sweet a name I would give it to thee.
I have read several such, in praise of thine,
As Tarquin, Tarquin, Collatine, Ajax,
Grim, but sweet, didst not disdain nor adore them;
That name so dear I should give thee,
When thou shalt crave of thine again,
And I will not bewitch thee with more loving lips.”
And as the world’s fair sun was about to set,
The blessed Arabian bough
Whose boughs were to the wind blown about,
Whose spines to the ground and in to the sky,
Hath drawn all the winds, yet none knew where he flew.
The wind, he throws into the fire,
Whilst her own hot breath wavers, being warmed by it,
Doth blow her up and down with the wind.
In this Tarquin plays with joy, while in my bed,
The other four stand dumb, still to hear his wailing tale.
At this she throws the pillow over her head;
And when she have done, her sad eyes turn pale,
And then the sad maid-tongued queen,
Stand still, and say, O night, thou wilt see that I am
Called to be my colour, my delight, thy bed.’
O Night, how many times have I gazed on thee,
As wondering on thy beauty and in thy
Devouring lust, still I gazed upon thee,
And in thy doting eye I said, thou art
Thy beauty’s child, thy beauty’s son,
Thy beauty’s legacy be not unto thine age,
And thou thine to lose, and to lose to me:
Thy beauty’s legacy be not to mine age,
Thy beauty’s legacy be not thy death,
Thy beauty’s legacy be not thine surviving love.
And thou, O bright and shining morning,
Have my praise in thy glass, where thou mak’st mine light:
O night, for love of thee, let no light see,
Mine eyes are wrapp’d in glass, and no light see
Where thou art in my thoughtless night.
Thy beauty’s legacy be not to thy death,
And thy beauty’s legacy be not thine surviving love.
thou hast made the mistake of thy time,
And all my worth in thy living


======== CHECKPOINT 046 OUTPUT # 004 ========

andel, and it hath all in one.
The poor man, as the sole sufferer,
Sinks up in the river where he dwelleth;
At last he falls and, lo, the blessed Lucrece appears,
He falleth for his dear love, for whose sake he lies.
So shall the night be mine thief, and thou thy friend’s foe.
But thou didst take mine eye from the fount
Of thy beauty, my poor star, thy treasure?
What beauty’s treasure is thy love lost, thou thy self’s slave?
The coward swears to her that he doth not know
the cause of his deed; and, lo, she perceives,
The traitor had him his prey before,
And with her tongue did thrust his face forth,
When she saw him rise again, her lips would not budge.
So I, my sweet Venus, the author of thy crime,
Thy beauty was my false jewel, and stole thy breath,
From whence thy true love sprung this false thief?
Let him plead before his fair trial,
Who in thy image canst not steal thy breath,
For thine is the true love that gives life to thee.
‘”What should my mother say?” “No matter where she goes,”
“No matter where she goes,” quoth Lucrece, “I dare not say.”
O true mother, I am advised by thine eyes,
That in thy fair love I never would say so:
Even in thy fair love I assure thee thy fair eyes are bright.
‘”Why hast thou such trouble?” quoth he, “since he hath cast away
My sweet Lucrece’ shadow?”
“Why dost thou give it thee to torment?” quoth she, “since he hath cast away my face?”
“Ay me,” quoth he; “my heart hath sworn,
That thou art in the fight; why hast thou forsook
My fair Lucrece’ shadow, my fair eyes’ witness?
When I sought to find him, thou didst forsake me;
Why hast thou forsook me when I sought to find thee?
Thy self, my fair self, dost thou seek?
O had thy fair self forsook thee for this night,
thy fair self dost strive with thee,
To wear thee to death. ‘”Yea, lord of this world, I cannot see
The day nor the night nor time nor day nor hour
Which from the sky all things in me aim at,
For nothing doth my true love intend,
But merely to make my pain worse.
Why hast thou forsook me, for thou art mine?
O how much worse shall it be than that
Of worms, of fowls, of horn, or of trees’ feathers,
Thy true self to thee is yet unshorn,
And yet shall not be attainted in time.”
‘O,’ quoth she, ‘if the world can remove
Thy harmful influence, that in my sight glows,
And kill me for that false witness of mine,
By adding to my sin no increase of shame,
My sins are less stain’d still, and still no blot
But death’s injurious breath renews, and reneweth all.
Then thou shalt know, this false Sin will evermore kill
My soul and body, and never rid me of thee:
This slander, this sad doom to the world shall stay,
If ever there is need of a better end.
‘For where there was once a temple of light,
Honouring this holy temple with holy lies,
But now it is a prison that stains the brow;
That stains the brow’s cost and makes it more pale.
‘Look,’ quoth Collatine, ‘this is what a prison looks like,
When an iron fence breaks, or when a coal-black
Hanging brook obscures the view.
This black prison that windows such bright lights afford,
Shall guard the fair harbinger of sunshine,
And sweet heart in thy thoughts to guard those fair hills,
Whose sweet smell to all the world doth compare.
But where no smell can so sweet a praise beget,
So sweetly I grant, with thy sweet voice:
In him thy praise doth this sweet voice stand,
Whose sweet voice doth this praise to my fair name stand.
‘For thou art so beloved of thine eyes,
that even in my face thou dost smile,
Whereon on my cheeks and in th’ arms lies repine,
Him thinking on thy pain, thinking on thy pain,
When in thine eye thy thoughts and words doth rest,
Thy right turns thy left, and I thy right,
From


======== CHECKPOINT 046 OUTPUT # 005 ========

windows, and doting Priam with all her might.
This forced truce broke forth, and she threw
The tyrant’s spear, which, like a heavy boar,
Whose sharp teeth did his huge weight dully leap,
To give swift death to the youth in his way.
‘In that I boast, my unripe years are past,’
‘That in thy name thou didst teach, I should say ‘died’
By thy example, if I were alive to repeat.
Such shame in thy poor soul I would engraft anew,
And for thy name would they be bred to fight.
‘Why shouldst thou go, far from home, and do me wrong,
To wander about aimless and unknown,
In quest of unseen things, unknown and dear,
With untimely stops and long-delving hours spent,
Shall be idle and in pursuit of hours wasted,
That in my days have been busy and unkind,
But in the past dost thou wait and be gone?
My love was but a child, yet doth my love grow
Even as a weed, with root-killing seeds,
Or as a knife, with no sharp point but sharp pain:
This was my beloved, and that in thee,
And in thee thou art a force to be reckoned.
That is to say, thou being my love,
The world’s fair flower thou art the fairest,
And in my love the world’s fairest thou dost strive,
The world’s fair flower doth best, and in my love
The world’s fair flower doth best dote,
And in mine is the world’s best, and in mine
The two sum up their sum one, and mine is the other.
Even as a twine doth he tie, the ruffian,
He parallels the crooked serpent, whose lusty tail
runs from foot to foot in a thousand steps,
That his crooked foot shall catch no shadow,
But shall never be tempted to creep upon thee.
Such is my love, that every tongue knows
How to persuade a fool to follow him;
What tongue to sing praises to her is deaf;
When in thy store canst thou list
The contents of my store, to what I owe thee?
Mine eye, like a pearl encased in amber,
Grew upon my cheek like a crystal glob,
Seemeth strangely to her eyes, and hath fled,
Whereon, as she hath sought, doth see the wayward boy.
‘”His lips have writ many strange oaths in their glass,
Yet yet the better to do me wrong,
For thou shalt see their work in my poor brow.
What worth mine eye, though it never see’st thou,
Will o’erwhelming at my unfruitful deeds,
Or at my barren prayers yielding?
That is to say, his lips are no better judge
Thy beauty than thine own blood, for thou art mine.
And thou upon my earth, being subdued,
Are my revenge, and mine is thy self-same.
Away thou wilt depart again, and yet keep thy part,
To wait for that which elsewhere thou dost deceive.
Thus ‘twixt me and her, the lines of rhyme
How to persuade a fool to his oath will be drawn,
Thy true love was but a child and yet doth live,
And then in thy image I make this sworn oath:
Thy true love doth this false painting deceive,
For in thee this false stain lives,
In thine image there will be no stain,
Save the love that thou dost so dishonour:
for this purpose my life will prove
A death unto myself, my love’s bastard son,
Thy death I’ll do again, thy beauty’s heir:
I will sing of thee in this sad tomb:
And sometime thy self I’ll tell thy face,
And sometime another I’ll make thee seem.
When thou wilt with all thy mightst undertake,
And when all thy mightst might have done me wrong,
For all thy might I, with my mightst might,
Was able to make the stopp’d-up earth rise
And all the world halt his glorious horse,
Which with his proud head the field reigned.
What then of my self is this, then,
That ever one by me knows
The course of thy parts, and of thy part
is as one living living thing.
The painter was once dead, the lion live,
In marble, and therefore still the lines painted there remain,
Like living characters, still surviving in the brain.
“O day’s labour, to clear the wayward boy from his way,
To bring him back again, if thou wilt, I


======== CHECKPOINT 047 OUTPUT # 001 ========

{\. it cannot be, then,
For men are dumb and dumb and dumb not to weep;
And thus her pity-pleading eyes do lend
Into her face a dumb astonishment:
Heard what eyes are bent in her direction;
To her looks he doth frown, to her turns hush;
He makes her laugh and frown with his;
He gives her a cold eye, and a hard one,
Like toads that have no fear of danger,
They walk in her wake, seeming at once afraid.
“But do not let me boast, my love was born of fear,
And that I may boast (since I never did boast)
To your fair tender love-kindling pen,
When you were not made my equal,
My beauty, though my worth may seem lesser,
Thy worth may seem greater still, that to thee is attaint.
How much more can a beauty boast?
thy gentle colour sweet with wrinkles red,
When in thy face I was all but black,
Or what beauty doth my lips make bare,
Till thy bareness now is thy good report,
Till I in thee thy beauty doth reign.
“O,” quoth she, “do not look at me ill;
When in my countenance hath pride begun,
Then thy majesty is in question,
Thy beauty doth exceed all thy outward parts;
Then would a maund-sack’d bedlam be
Against thy beauty, that hath done him honour,
And made him wear a mantle of filth:
And never gave him leave to wring his face,
But when he saw what wrong he did make,
A thousand wrinkles could not stain his face,
And no blot could remove his sinewy show.
‘O,’ quoth she, ‘if I told thee so, would thou take
The knife from my bosom, and leave me there,
The bastard knife to slay thy foe?
What treasure are these lives in me,
That so hard-favour’d thou lov’st so base a tomb?
When thou shalt live, shallst thou live’st as hard as mine;
If thou shouldst live, thou art my child, and mine is death.
But with the knife I will never murder thee,
For thou thy self art my dearest friend, and my self art thy friend,
And never dies that way shall I live.”
How she concludes, as though on the scroll
Of old writ in blood,
Whose untimely death thy memory will bear,
But life’s end, to write of thy death hereafter.
O how the world’s eye hath power to change course,
To stop at random, or to make some change
With a sudden stop; what wert thou to stop,
And wherefore did thy mot afar so?
Then wert thou to stop at random
For wert thou to stop at random Time doth lend
The stroke of a pen, and yet is not
A true pen, and therefore is not a true boy’s pen:
It is a truth, a tale, and thus cannot be told,
When truth begets falsehood, and truth inftdefends:
Thy beauty doth beguile thee, and thou receivest,
The receipt which on receipt is due.
By this means, the painter makes some change;
And some alter to the same effect beguiled.
Who, having painted some altered thing,
With what was his alterity newly?
Or with his own altered form altered,
Or with that of several unknowns?
Or with either’s alteration changing effect beguiled?
What makes the painter change his art, or his form new?
or with the painter alter his style so?
The colour chang’d for the sake of that colour,
(O if this were not supposed to mean pleasure,)
But then it must be, she’s true, and it will stay;
Thy pain is not, as some disdainfully suggest’d;
So she’s true, and that’s all she says:
‘It is, and nothing else it ever was.’
“And for what?” quoth she, “since you took my life”?
And when her own eyes have told the story?
And for what?
No, that my name was my maid’s maiden name;
Her maiden name was Tarquin; the rest are Tarquin’s and his;
If that be true, why then my name is Tarquin’s,
And then my name is Tarquin’s maid’s name;
For why? Tarquin’s my name is Tarquin’s;
if that be false, why not my maiden name?
How then she her shame confounds?
He takes her by the hand, and kisseth her on


======== CHECKPOINT 047 OUTPUT # 002 ========

Donkey and his loyal subjects,
To make him their god, and their god unto him.
‘Thou know’st this; the more the better to know
Of subtle things, the quicker the faster the stone doth fly.
Poor birds are bolder to fly than hawks;
They often sing; but their tongues are tame.
How much more am I than the day’s labour
To wake a sleeping bird with her nails fastened:
When the hours of my waking will last four,
My soul shall rehearse my sorrow,
And your memory to rehearse my praise.
O how much more dost thou art then alive that praise
May speak for thy image, whose beauty doth dwell?
My poor life, though living to see thee die,
For heaven’s sake, yet die to imitate thy good name,
And live a life to imitate thine, and imitate thine.
So now the painter, for pleasure doth lend
The fair appearance of her beauty,
Who in a perpetual motion would seem so
In the twilight of the night,
as she walks on the plain in twilight,
So are her eyes, and her breath, and her words,
When through the air doth she change to sing:
‘Dear heavens, what a hell of witchcraft lies
In one redemptive eye of foul intent!
A thousand tears of red should wash them all away.
‘O, what a hell of witchcraft lies
In one redemptive eye of foul intent!
A thousand tears of red should wash them all away.’
‘O, that red blood which white blood did stain,
The privilege which the precedent gave
To every fair-ripping red, of every hue,
Or every pure-pale-red hue did captivate,
Or every pure hue and pale a bit red,
Or every dull-shining a smoky bit,
Or every blot upon every bristly beard.
‘O, how my lovely Muse greets thee with so kind a smile!
O, how mine eyes love to see thee so cold,
As when in the bud they see thee cold,
They smile, and so delight in thee.
‘Tis not enough to greet with smiles those fair cheeks;
those pale cheeks that Opportunity sheds,
They shall not give it back again to thee,
And for this sin shall never be reconciled.
“O no! no, no! thou canst not cure me of this sin,
And for my sin there is no remedy;
If thou wilt devise an excuse,
My self shall not bewitch the wise man to kiss him;
No, my self, thou hast no honour to curse,
I have no self worth to blame,
I have no honour to blame,
And if thou do me wrong, what is my shame
else to say, though I think it true?
O, when I say my slander I mean not to boast
the sweetest of sweets, to whom I list
And the very worst to whom I complain,
Then do I list the sweets I list,
And then I list the sweets I list,
And then I list the distasteful sweets I list.
“If,” quoth he, “this is the maiden Tarquin I drew,
The bravest of Tarquin’s charmed knights,
And doth so dignified take
That on his shield the rider on horseback lies,
like a ploughman’s pebble he takes
The sweet stalk that the grass will grow in thine field,
And on his back lie all these batt’ry bushes,
To weed the green whereon he would reap his crop.
To make him moan more at my woes I force;
Then sing praises to him, or pity him with blame;
But if he be praised by his fair lords,
Why should I curse his fair lords with blame?
He for whom I curse thee now doth give.
He for whom I besiege thee now doth spend;
A widow for whom thou hast given my son,
And I his mortgaged goods for his death;
I’ll have thee all, and thou thy living wish,
And in thy living wish, with this living wish I’ll have.
“This idle plague of hers, which in her breast
Did enfeeble the whole state of the world,
Who, like a careless jade, would not let go
The rich spoil of this maiden’s jewel;
Who, like a proud jade, would not let go
The rich spoil of this maiden’s jewel:
When iniquity hath distractedly done away
The bounteous gift of this blessed precious jewel,
And, being stopp’d, such stoppage doth Collatine make,
That death may ensue the death of his son.


======== CHECKPOINT 047 OUTPUT # 003 ========

DARs, or balls of lightning; but these things are but stones, and cannot move the mind;
Each stone, or several, in his prime,
Whereat a part of his form was before,
To give the shape he would form again,
And make his living again in marble.
“The coal that burns in this furnace is light’d,
And in the spring it cools by releasing air;
But in this hot and cold furnace, that flame doth cool,
As if the tempest should in a flash ensue.
This said, a pale-fac’d woman, with shining paces,
With pale cheeks and tanned cheeks made the scene,
Which as they took notice of the painter,
Then stood about to be admir’d, and fell
To be imitated in others’ ornaments.
“To see thyself in others’ ornaments,
Make of thine own free will, what will not incline,
Or put on thyself a part unknown?
Or change thyself to suit thy self well?
Or shouldst thou turn back and give place
To a mourner who would maim thee with his hand,
Or turn back again and breed more terror,
As with a mourner’s hand she murders a fool with her eye,
Whose true terror kills more swiftly in that place.
This she did as quickly dispatch with her sound;
As quickly threw herself in the way, and vanished,
To make herself admir’d by those, whose looks she saw,
Who in their bright lights look on thee, and you in their downs,
From hearts of steel the power struggles.
So shall the summer nights greet me this winter day,
Till I come and greet you in new summer apparel,
And then be my good angel again when you must appear.
I hate not love that which is good,
though my heart loves it not to love it not,
My self I do love, though it not be true,
For it is untrue and untrue that I love you so,
When I was your father, my mother’s love still was:
And thou, the sweetest hand which loves me now,
May all my love, my love, be ten times happier than thou art,
Since I am thy mother and thou my friend,
For thou hast no mother’s gift but love’s, thou art thy father’s,
And they both in him made love, and they in thee am.
And then said she to him, “Give me this kiss, and take it,
And when thou wilt, with all thy mightest,
Return it with thy mightiest force, and not to my will.”
So began they to talk, and then she doth speak,
But when he speaks, no words can convey his will,
For he doth intend the encounter,
And the kiss begins, and the sound is so great,
that it seems to rain from a sky,
Who throws it on the ground and says: “T’is raining.”
In a deep sleep she wakes up, and doth turn
To find herself in another room:
She dares not move, but sits, and then replies: “Look here, how mine eyes have fled;
My face was painted black, the other was white;
My brows and nostrils filled with smoke and brimful mud;
My chin a blasting star, which doth every eye behold;
The whole fair world trembles at his eye;
The clouds fear not the day; and from her bright face
A certain richly ornamented hap comes
Which she wears for solemn observance,
And all the world esteems with fair gems enriched.
‘Look what wealth we treasure in luxury,
Or what office, or office our lord doth call,
Or what kind of household we have in a city,
Or what honour or dignified place we have
We call ours ours what we wish and borrow,
For we our fortune depends on it,
And in it we are aptly enriched.
For when we call upon thee to give thanks,
That is to be desired of me, and I require,
From thee no excuse but that from thee
May waken, love renews, and death takes care.
“And from me,” quoth she, “this morning my soul
Did summon up all haste to this abomination,
And in pursuit of it took in hand
Of a dearer task than mine own:
I straight forbade it; yet others did lend
Their aid, and thus ending in blame:
“O false blood! true blood, if it ever did borrow
Thy light, what a hell of witchcraft lies
In thine own false blood! thy shadow’s poison, thy breath!’
How could she but say,


======== CHECKPOINT 047 OUTPUT # 004 ========

harassing and angry,
In a spirit of self-pitying pride,
To mock, mock and belittle me with comments.
Now in the red sun, sitting by a tree,
My mind being red as the roses are in summer,
Till day, his eyes, like jade in the sky,
Plead up to catch the morning sun, whose beams rain down o’er
all-hanging leaves, like the aloes of a cherubin.
“Wonder, beauty, and truth itself!
Thou wast not created this, and will never be!
Thou art but a living invention,
So art thou made to live and die by thy side.
Now thy spirit that hath brought me forth to you
Is dead, and thy spirit still living is gone.
So do I for this; since I did give you life
And died for this, my life was living,
And life for this was life dead.
O, with those dead eyes that have seen me,
My life, and my life’s death, my life is living!
‘Tis death, death to die, death to live.
If death and life were companions of one,
Both could live, both were good, neither was bad.
‘O Time, thou art not the same as thou wast,
thou wast not my equal,
My worth far greater than thy worth’s lack.
Be it not then with me as I pass by,
thou hast made me, and I the other,
Have no such thing. I was thy father, your father was my muse,
My love’s light, and thy light’s fury.
To me she grew so great a beauty was,
That all my images, all the parts thereof,
Were but sweet, though in little scale they appear,
By their short scale are confounds spread:
That is to say, all in their scale, and all in little space,
By varying their scale of beauty and effect,
To put on effect some perfect beauty, some repine,
And for such a spectacle would the eyes be dyed white.
‘Yet being set at rest, his spear quakes with swiftness,
And with a sudden desire doth leap,
With murderous intent on her trembling heart.
‘Why, O, this is a dream!’ quoth she, ‘look what a boar doth do!’
What d’Art thou dreaming, and what dost thou dreaming mean?
She shakes her head, and with a groan she drops;
Who, quoth she, was he not afraid
of his darting balls? or darts his balls from his gliding hand?
But is he not so afraid of his darting balls,
That they fly with his darting balls?
Or like the lark that doth nudge her to his bait,
Or like the boar that doth reek from the horn
Upon Pyrrhus’ crest, or down upon his head’s gore,
Or like the phoenix that doth do away,
Or like the flaming dove that doth flap
On the blood-soaked shore doth he fly,
Which by nature did not wish him so;
Instead of kissing her, he kisses her so,
And kiss’d her like a dear friend that often travels.
‘Now this,’ quoth she, ‘this is the night I intend to kill;
The other three do as follows:—
A man doth dissemble in his couch,
A dog chides his owner for neighing;
A pioner lies weeping in his bedchamber’s shade;
A younge morn stirs in the violet channel of her nose;
And a kindly-proud beseecher lies panting
In the violet channel of her lips’ sweet scent;
A green rose blooms in the airy cedar stream,
And in the brackish water runs a river
Wherein she feeds on fishes, and on the plants:
Her salt-kissing anthem is her anthem,
And that’s so sweet, that it shall govern every tongue:
And by this, I’ll answer thee with a lie,
Which must be obeyed with true modesty,
For I know your heart is love’s sweet heart,
And thou thy heart’s love’s heart’s heart’s heart’s heart’s heart,
And like this, in the eastern parts
Of Italy, where their fatherage lies,
I see their white stole doth bear their name;
And their purple stole doth bear their name’s brand.
By this, from Lucrece to Troilus lies
His untimely death, and that of his youth;
By this, from Troilus’ poisoned Lucrece to
Sapire doth extend his line of succession;
By this


======== CHECKPOINT 047 OUTPUT # 005 ========

diagnoses of the eyes.
His right hand was upon her back, and she on his thigh;
She did give him kiss, as he did give,
Like unto a jade, in that hot water,
Which when it melts, the water will wear and tear.
When in grief, thou dost not weep,
For thou dost weep for her, and she weep’st for thee.
The one wails that all she stands in her way,
Her other on either side hath seiz’d;
the one hath seiz’d her head, and the other on top,
Their eyes together as one, both high and low,
Each to cross a threshold doth give light;
The other high, high, turns left, and crosses again.
She shakes his hand, that hath such power,
To kiss his heart, to kiss his heart’s beauteous bud.
So is she revenged upon Sin,
That she hath brought forth the poison, and died by it.
“And so, saith the wise man, ’tis but a dream:
And now thy soul ‘gins to rave, and ‘gins to bleed,
Like a weakling woe when it reeleth to breathe.
“And all these thoughts I in thought did hear,
As if from some heavenly power,
I may be, I never perceived;
But now all these thoughts I sought,
As if from some unseen power, I should swear
That thou art my friend, and that I am thy foe.
My lips are lips to eyes, my lips to ears;
My hair my nails my nails my moe hand,
My heart’s true hand holds my heart and my heart
Wherein is my love, and where is my fear;
My heart’s true hand holds my heart’s delight;
My heart my heart my heart beats faster, faster
To see him still doth he trot in haste;
And now doth he come again and again he
To catch his breath, catch his eye and look again;
And now their lips meet and the skies above rise.
‘But ne’er sees that she herself hath sinned,
Her lips are white, her cheeks black, her eyes burning;
Her hair hath downy curls, round it hangs down,
Her chin is clip’d, and her bare breasts meet
In the airy hot spring below.
To me this seems an offence, and a shame,
That she in such shame should in my verse live.
O have mercy on her that in my verse die,
From me she should not be so bold!
‘And be so kind as to give leave to all offenders;
My verse was the one true, though adulterate;
And then some untutored child did come,
And did look upon my verse, and took
Inordinate delight in the sight of beauty.
And if I had known them, they had not said so;
Love in thee is as sweet as crystal,
That looks in a glass and says ‘This is what it is,
For glass is truth, and beauty in thee lies.
I did, my love, and do now vow to never touch thee,
In other words, thou dost take my life away.
But love knows what love is, and what it is not,
For in the breath it knows no form,
Nor how to make it thrive in any.
O then thou wilt not perceive it is painted sweet,
And will not wink once to show it deceiving.
O that poor thing that doth in thy mind live,
Which nothing can dissemble but thy will,
And all things but to show it disgraceful,
May be hid in thy deeds, and in thy eyes.
If that be so, then love cannot cure thee:
Thy state will blame thee if thou dost love that.
‘I do not hate,’ quoth he,’such an excuse should I give;
The thought doth well fester and do not like;
Those who do, do so in a kind of abhorrence;
Whose acts are most just, do they always end with the blow:
These, poor creatures, steal their breath from thee,
And turn to dust, and never to breath another breath:
The breath is breath, the breath of life.
‘And do not suppose my mistress’ eyes did read
The proceedings of this black hellish night,
With any fair-seeing eyes they could see;
Their eyes as red as night’s blood,
Were themselves cast into a dimly-lit cave.
“Look! the golden orb of Time lies
On the green bank, as it were a flower,
Sewing the sap to the green brim above,
To blot the sap with mud below;
Cooling the sap when


======== CHECKPOINT 048 OUTPUT # 001 ========

condemns in it the gross abuse of nature,
And then like a drunken bird, with swelling cries,
He bide his time, and then he ‘gins again;
That he in his tears may seem some good;
But as a senseless infant cries, he in tears
With hideous audacity gives life to his cry.
Yet if she kill him, she for his sake will kill me.
“Fie, fie!” quoth she, “why ’twas not thy right?
O pardon me, but I am guilty of a crime,
When all my self, and all my soul are thieves,
And thou stealing away thy breath’s glory,
How dare I then live, or die,
In the act of stealing, thy worth the stronger doth contend?
‘Why dost thou live, and die with me,
When stealing lives and stealing dies?
I would say that he should bequeath thee
The honour and the fame of his state;
And then the honourary subject would say,
“That thou hast done him honour by deed,”
And if they had, he would not have died.
“And this thought he doth entertain:
If this deed be lawful, do not murder,
By my murder you canst not be bought,
And to a lawful fee, you canst live.”
“What wish do I have that thou mayst think,
That I in thy heart’s interest
Upon this happy thought may live a happy death,
Of those rarest of rarest breeds, that hath ever
Leaped from the heavens to the earth’s level,
And gone on living with you, and with us,
That you to our love are not so remote,
You should pine like the larksman to me,
When in him we pine like swans and do such thing
As never before surcease, when we must resort
To silly extremes for entertainment,
That we shall live, and then die in our love,
By adding one kiss to the many we have.
This picture shall one day appear,
As happy monuments to the gaudy days of thy youth,
When in thy image shall beauty dwell,
And in thy self shalt be immortal counted,
Thy fair flower, and thy self thy self shalt live,
By thine own self shalt thou live immortal.
This wish, this hope, this hope shall ever last,
Sets not the heart of man to the true sight,
That in his thought doth strive to win his way;
If this aim it must win over a silly boy,
By means of a fair tongue to charm a dumb girl.
This she did, and yet he his answer did disdain;
Not for his sovereign right did she base him;
But she, mad that he would swear in her so,
Doth question whether he is truly yours, or
Your self, or either; if either be true,
Thy self art yours and thou livest, and thine,
In thine own self shalt thou grow.
‘But with thy continual motion my heart’s yoke
Throng the impediments with outward motion
Will limit thy outward parts, and make thee part,
Or all at once, to make my verse harder.
This verse in the book which it contains
In brief gives the plain truth of what it contains,
As if from the page it could be translated;
And it so, so true of thee,
I have read, and loved, and seen, and know not,
How the heart breaks, and drops dead on the ground.
No, it is my sorrow that you see so,
That I can not express it to your own mind,
No wonder then I have no respect for you,
Though for your sake I admire your looks,
No matter how much I admire your wit,
But as you lack my respect, my praise is short,
And I can not in good conscience praise you,
No cause of your pain will persuade me
That you are but men’s eyes, not human minds.
And now to your foul eye my words have ended,
I no longer will answer but by your grace,
And in your Lordship’s rank thoughts I’ll rehearse,
I’ll make many excuses for your pain:
Thy face is but a tomb, that the mind will know
When all the proud towers of Troy died,
And in thy blood the world might behold
The beauty and might of wealth thy pride
With the world’s proud titles to yours would seem.
For though my image be thine, yet thou art thine;
So for my image thine I am still.
‘But when in thy face thou shalt behold the day
And to thy lips the sweet smell of sweet air,
Let those fears which in me you behold


======== CHECKPOINT 048 OUTPUT # 002 ========

uties, though they have kings, yet are they gods, though no kings there.
‘Then be contented that in these petty graces your name shall appear;
For those on whose bright cheeks thou giv’st my praise,
When others praise you with praises of lesser quality,
Thy proud self to whom these trophies are tied,
Thy proud self to whom these trophies belong
Hath profaned the pride of thy state,
And all this fame toil till thou shalt have them all.”
‘So be it: for in their pride I did stain
The proud ornament of their raiment;
Yet, as they themselves did shine new,
To show their true-timeless beauty,
And in their glory new attaint me,
By painting a pure form anew their:
When, poor thing, I view no form but thine,
I view thine own true self in thy name:
Yet by their image was their praise compounded,
Whose image was thine own, not their own.
‘But one by one, through the misty night
A coal-black cedar stoops by, who, fearfully,
Sits down on his quill and begins to sing;
Sweetly she says, “O comfort, love, this troubled hour
Wouldn’t my woes and troubles be told;
Nor would my sorrows nor my troubles be told;
Love had been the first, after him;
Then were I the first groom, after him this.”
That he should seem guilty of all offences he yet did confound;
Such was his sway, that despite of rain,
His veins quench and his lips bleed;
To kill himself, that which he cannot curb;
For himself he is slain, and he himself is free.
The gaudy groom is he, the proud boar the fool:
‘So that my image may be praised in thee,
Who, when thy image is made famous,
Thou in the clear, and all the stars in thee make more strange.
‘But if the time come that thou dost give me a look,
Thou wilt take me to another island where I may be fed,
And stay me till thou wilt leave me.
‘To be gone, I must return again tomorrow,
That I alone may see thee again tomorrow.
‘O pardon me, I did not mean to scold thee;
My words were not cruel, but truth bewitch’d them;
My purpose in the matter was plain;
Since then thou shalt see my face and hear my words.’
‘Since then,’ quoth she,’my face shall be made plain,
Till then I be confined in this place,
For never-concealing Tarquin shall touch my brow.
When I am confined in Tarquin’s prison,
My sight shall be as clear and pure as Night’s.
‘My poor object,’ quoth she, ‘this heinous crime
Is within my thoughts, my soul, and all my body;
And thou in it, my sweet love must die!
My sorrow, my sorrow’s adjunct,
Is in thee alone, and in thy sum.
‘The thing I was hoping was no more;
Thy complexion was no more; let it not be called
Thy bareness, beauty’s disgrace; let it be called
Thy moisture, beauty’s disgrace; let it be called
Thy lust, lust’s spoil, youth, and infamy; let it be called
‘Thy uncontrolled rage, to kill thee outright:
let the love of thine own fee
Seize that fee, that ransom thine eye for my sake;
Let him that did steal my life sell me my life for thee;
let those dark nights which our spirits bring
Shall night-wand’ring alarms imprint upon our sight,
Like the hours when two evils strive to best each other;
So with these unruly hours restless eyes,
And wretched souls in hopeless fear wait
For that day which in thy deeds best aptly reflects.
Let those fair-seeing eyes that watch thee,
Make more, and more shall appear in my face;
And like the stars that dot the sky,
Or in the night’s mutual fear,
Or the unicorn, I suspect none,
Who shall not boast such an honour to me,
Yet shalt be treble in my pride,
Because of thee, I will swear an oath to thee.
“O peace, dear friend! thou dost hast committed a crime,
I do vow that thou wilt find no remedy,
Unless, sweet lord, I should say ‘Thou wilt’ar return,
And thou thy sweet servant, with the ransom I make,
Let that sour and direful night
Shall my sweet love


======== CHECKPOINT 048 OUTPUT # 003 ========

mort a kind of respect,
Which in his gentle bosom was to hang his head;
Or at the very least he would thrust his chin in
Into a brook to drown his sorrow.
‘Fie, fie!’ quoth she; ‘do not flatter me,
I am old, and therefore shall live;
I must vouchsafe my age to you,
To live and die as you wish;
In the mean time your living breath should breath.
Then what are you that fears none but your seeing,
To feel the fleeting time that you have
Upon your ill-declined days to spend?
That time you have wasted is yours alone,
And you for a fee of one minute dedicate.
A mirthless day, forlorn night, and bloody care
Upon a youthful heart: all this time wasted is yours,
And you for a fee of one minute dedicate.
Now I must begin, and this word is my chief command,
‘Come this near to my bed-waxen hand,
That whispers ’tis Tarquin dead, as I write this;
Let that sorrow which is growing in my breast,
Save not my heart’s grief that is crying aloud,
That is to weep for me, that which is weeping for thee.
‘Therefore may I thy self behold,
For thou art a dwelling wherein all things meet,
That when men are come, beauty may dwell,
Wherein he may not covet upon his friends,
Who by their beauty he may so well enjoy.
That which he esteems most dear,
Or most precious, or most sought after,
Hath this said, this says he esteems,
Since thou thy self thy self shalt see,
Then my self thy self shalt see,
And then my self thy self shalt hear,
Thyself thyself thy self shalt see,
And then my self thyself thy self shalt hear.”
“Yet yet shalt thou see my face, whereon it shines,
And therein it self doth begin to glow,
For beauty doth make thee frown, and thus glows
That makes thee frown for a moment, and then blushes again,
That is to him a double effect:
When in the eye of a dearer mind he glides,
beauty’s flame doth no more burn then thy breast,
To give back to decay, as quickly as thine,
But, in the heat of love’s flaming fire, this fire doth burn,
And that which it confounds,
burns ere long the lusty groom had let go.
“And for thy sake, Adonis, lend me some light
To look upon thy picture: in thy visage
What beauty dost thou behold!
Who in thy fair face bears all the blame?
what shame are they to see them so wrong?
Then why hath she not her torch stowed,
Nor pray she thy sweet self in confusion,
Where some idle shadow of a good conscience lies.
Then she doth question his excuse,
And bids him ask her some more, and there
He answers her, “Ay, excuse me,” and answers again,
‘Tis well that my poor conscience breaks every word;
My poor conscience bribs with his foul words;
I might as yet have gone out to hunt,
if I had been dead, I might not die there,
Because I should have gone to hunt in those lights.
‘But how long, my dear Adonis, will thy life last?
If that be not ten thousand winters away,
I should die in love and in love’s arms alone.
‘Then let me be blest as the day is,
And let others’ envy be my shame,
And let my fame, my dear life blest in thine,
And do not so excuse me now,
That I must die and live in so vile a state.
‘Then be it lawful for me to leave you,
And go on living like you, with others;
But let not the unkind, rude, or cruel,
Have control of your love affairs,
My suffering hours should tell you that I lie.
If the light hereafter enlightens you,
Tell me this night I am dreaming:—
I’ll set down my lamp, and hear thy song.
O what a hell of witchcraft lies between
The lustful and the harmless!
Who, having seen the two, with one eye
Affection bewray’d the harmless;
Who, being both present, seiz’d the harmless;
Both at once being confounded, each kiss
Deeply besiege’d the other, and her eye
Seiz’d in each vulture’s eye, where is neither.
‘O, how vile a sight this was!
Such foul


======== CHECKPOINT 048 OUTPUT # 004 ========

768.
And here it lies, as it were a dream,
With sad-sack’d eyelids all night,
To make the dull and weary night
Seek for his treasure, with uncertain eyes he search;
And where no treasure lies, bid them find a bed.
‘But whither did Sinon come?’ quoth she, ‘through a window?
What is Sinon’s journey, so far from home?
He went where water will go, and where winter is dead.’
‘My sin, my sin, my sin, my sin,’ quoth she, ‘this will not be:
The sun will not set in nor speak to night,
Nor leaves till he bathes his face in mud;
To bathe in water will make him stain red;
And then with his hand she holds a ring of roses,
Which she in them hath put on a tree,
And in the bud encloses the roses,
Which in their white enclosures stand:
To her mistress’ eyes she affords this delight,
And as the sap from a root yielding anon
Baths up her sweet spring, all woe and moan beweeps.
‘But if I may excuse my untimely absence,
And every good thing that creeps, or walks,
To dwell in my weary state, I’ll say so:
And keep my steel from being shaken
That I have batt’ry to guard my mistress’ eyes,
The worst abuses of many a petty offence.
So then thou wilt be my muse, my slave,
In imagination so hard may try to hide.
Thy pen hath not yet begun, yet am I illiterate,
And yet do not write, yet must make a fool of thee;
Thy tongue can never write the same,
But art a slave to the crooked thief thy rhyme,
To keep thee in my thoughts, and keep thee in my rhyme.
‘Why dost thou hate my love more than I hate thee?
My love is of thy love, though not the true love
Of men, and of women, and even of heavenly things.
‘Why dost thou love my love as thou dost love all,
And pine before I have pine’d all these years to say,
That thou the very earth being pine’d,
Pleads on moisture, like a woe-sack?
Shall winds blow them all aside like a fog?
Or drown them all like the ocean’s waves?
Or let them all stand, one by one,
For there life in them all doth lie,
And in thee lies death, and sorrow’s grave.
‘Now hear this, this, this, this, this;
the rascal Tarquin dead, and her son
are the death-blessed twain,
‘Twixt the morn and triumphant sun.
‘”Lo, all these trophies of woe I grant
Upon the margent’s brow are painted
The fair fairest of all: the one fair,
Where sun, moon and stars shine in equal.
Thy tender spring should flower in the spring,
And in the ripe year doth breed
all these trophies of woe: for thine I grant,
Mine eye doth behold the glory
Of all the several; but thine eye doth see
Those that shine most, being best in all,
Which are in thee, and thine in me.
Let them count thine own wrongs, and let thine eyes view
The grossest sin, which in thy best
Hath haunted thee for so long.
Let them count thy self thy uncleanness,
Let them count thy defame, and let them count
Thy self’s defame that thy foul self commits.
‘Let those that serve in me, that are armed,
with thine eye’s power o’erpressed,
Or with thine eye’s power o’erpressed,
Or with thine eye’s power o’erpressed,
Or with any of those o’erpressed powers,
Or with any of thine own powers,
Do not let those that serve in me lack,
Have their combined aids all subdued,
Whilst all our combined aids be mute,
And none hear what others say.
‘For more, thou register of errors,
Than those that can speak, but thine own mind forbears.
The wolf kills, the lamb injures;
And in the brook where her sweet infant lies,
The turtle drowns, and the hawk flies away.
‘Poor creature,’ quoth she, ‘this forced offence
Seems lawful in the face of a king;
That his blood is shed in pure charity;
And kings rightly so blame’d seem,
To mock at our w


======== CHECKPOINT 048 OUTPUT # 005 ========

relatives and their slaves.
“Let him see the turtle; let him know how long it is; let him know that it is young;
For the turtle is of little interest to him;
And let him know that when he fishes he will catch it;
When in pursuit of the boar, the wolf, the hare,
Or when in pursuit of a beached fawn,
Or when in pursuit of three large spotted boar,
Or when in pursuit of a beaded boar,
Or when in pursuit of a beaded lion,
Or when in pursuit of three mountain gorillas,
Or when in pursuit of one huge spotted boar,
Or when in pursuit of all fours,
Or when in pursuit of all fours,
Or when in pursuit of all fours and all fours,
Or when in pursuit of all fours,
Or when in pursuit of all fours,
Or when in pursuit of all fours,
Or when in pursuit of all fours,
Or when in all fours all fours,
One spotted boar, four mast’ring ere one yield’d;
But in their pride she hath seiz’d,
A woeful spectacle, with weeping eyes,
Shaking with woe the sad scene is supposed to tell.
Her lips are pale and wet, and her eyes are slack;
She stares, and he replies with sad looks;
She puts on a careless charm, and takes no notice;
She takes all means, but seldom none;
And often the eye of men hath his due confounded;
‘Lo, she hath done me wrong, my love is thy foe.’
And now she hath done him honour;
Her sad act of perjury her mortal heart
Can dispraise, but with her mortal sorrow
cannot, for lack of proof, prove his guilt;
The case is thus, for her guilt is not proved;
And if so, his guilt is not proved.
If he prove guilty, she in him lies,
‘To show the gross wrong he commits.’
His visage is dishevell’d, his chin dishevell’d;
His lips are pale and wet, his eyes are slack;
She prays they will soon appear,
And sometime he will say, in her verse,
‘If it ever shall be said that I love thee most,
Thou shalt not murder me, nor break thy oath;
I do abhor thy wickedness,
And lo the night will soon end, and despair with weeping;
But when thou gav’st my tears, then no sorrow shall cover them;
Thou art the worst of all evils, and more deserving of blame;
And if my tears will wash them away, I’ll kill them all;
But if they stain with blood, I’ll slay them all alone;
And if they remain, thou shalt never kill them all.
And yet I have many that mourn the loss of their mother,
And mine own mother doth weep for thee;
And yet thou hast many that still seem still
To weep for me, and for thy sake;
And yet thou hast many that mourn the loss of their mother.
‘O, poor wretch! what a world are these worlds
That to me belong to posterity
Of ill-declared wealth, to be neglected of me,
But wherefore hast thou such unhallow’d hours,
To spend the rest of your leisure in dreaming?
O let not nights wasted be nights of undistinguished sight!
The hours will count how many times you have left me,
And nights you will spend wondering whether
My weary minutes can again be counted:
O wherefore seek of me that which thou dost lengthen,
The weary muse to record thee how long
thou dost stay, and how much longer stay,
And yet never do I have a subject to muse upon,
In case thou must return, say so.
In vain, poor Lucrece, to whom my woes call;
And in vain I write:—
‘The world shall not bear to hear my woes tell,
For I hate the day, and hate every minute of it:
That the world should bear the light’s decease,
Though heaven and earth and all the heavenly heaven:
O, for my sake, what excuse canst thou make
To leave me this sad burden?
Or is it thine own Desire that hath granted me
My living suffering torment,
And leaves me here, wondering where thou mo’n’st I?
That your poor unmade parts seem still to me,
As if the world were some stage upon a stage,
With your living forms making still some noise.
‘”But, lo, behold these fair beauties on the ground
Swear unto them truth, as holy to thee;


======== CHECKPOINT 049 OUTPUT # 001 ========

bizarre from the deep earth?
That she may well know what is mine,
And why is it that thou dost seek
The very worst of all evil deeds?
Thou art the wretch that dost strive to break a record,
And to spite the rest dost strive to change a thing.
“In vain,” quoth he, “do I not cry ‘O false blood,
Thy eyes’ betraying him have forsook thee,
And gone they never to that bloody knife.
‘Well, I think he was slain by some wild boar;
Hast thou thy servant bequeath not thee,
To die for that which thou hast done thy servant.
In vain, poor Philomela, thy son and dear friend,
Come in to meet him, and he will not see.
His face hath writ to me, in ink and lines,
And in papers writ all over all the world,
How to your sweet Desire in all your sum of words,
Let my love writ in all your paper beguile.
‘”To-day,” he says, “this earth’s best jewel shall live
As soon as can be put to use,
No expense added to our obtaining;
Nor can our desire too, nor our desire too,
Not in a moment shall our want exceed.
‘For thou mak’st too much a period;
for me thou art the treasure of my heart;
And for every precious thing, worth the worth of me
Hath concealed thy heat, thy force, thy will, thy will’s strength.