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There's not a creature knows. Perhaps i' the moon, If magic knows the way to climb so high.

Perhaps in his own land.

Ay, certes, Europe is a wond'rous kingdom, And well worth visiting, which sends forth men So gifted and so good.

I pray thee say not men, but only man. Hath it e'er sent another like to him? Yet wherefore came he to these happier regions With such a wicked crew?

Nay, blame him not: His fate hath been disastrous and sad, As I have heard him say; and, woe is me! Misfortune is not dainty in associates.

Associates! Solitude in trackless deserts, Where locusts, ants, and lizards poorly thrive,— On the bare summit of a rugged peak, Where birds of prey in dusky circles wing The troubled air with loud and clam'rous din, Were to an honest heart endurable, Rather than such associates.