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Section 909
Passage 1 of 3 · section 909 of 1176
1Ber.
2Thus poure the stars down plagues for periury.
3Can any face of brasse hold longer out?
4Heere stand I, Ladie dart thy skill at me,
5Bruise me with scorne, confound me with a flout.
6Thrust thy sharpe wit quite through my ignorance.
7Cut me to peeces with thy keene conceit:
8And I will wish thee neuer more to dance,