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Stealing her love while you were bringing her.
What weakness is it in me lets you live?”

“I beg your pardon, sir, and for one error.
Where there was never any love to steal,
No love was ever stolen. Honor—oh, yes!
If all the rituals, lies, and jigs and drinking
That make a marriage of an immolation—"

“By heaven, if you say one more word like that,”
The King cried, with his sword half out again,
“One of us will be left here!” Then he stopped,
As if a bat had flown against his ear
And whispered of the night. “But I will cease,
Mindful of who you are, with one more question.
You cast a cloud around the name of honor
As if the sight of it were none too sweet
In your remembrance. If it be not honor
That ails you now and makes a madman of you,
It may be there’s a reptile with green eyes
Arrived for a long feeding on your heart—
Biting a bit, who knows?”

In the King’s eyes the light ofTristram could see
In the King’s eyes the light of a lewd smile

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