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Canst meet mine eyes, fresh from thy deed of shame?

What is shame, that the Theatre deems no shame?

Hard heart! You mean to leave your old friend dead?

Who knoweth if to live is but to die?

If breath is bread and sleep a woolly lie?

Come in, then, both.

Again?

To feast with me

Before you sail.

With pleasure! That's the way

Duly to crown a well-contented day!

O blessed are they who possess

An extra share of brains!

'Tis a fact that more or less

All fortunes of men express;

As now, by showing

An intellect glowing,