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Section 447
Passage 1 of 2 · section 447 of 1084
1Hero.
2O God of loue! I know he doth deserue,
3As much as may be yeelded to a man:
4But Nature neuer fram'd a womans heart,
5Of prowder stuffe then that of Beatrice:
6Disdaine and Scorne ride sparkling in her eyes,
7Mis‑prizing what they looke on, and her wit
8Values it selfe so highly, that to her