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Romeo and Juliet, where the, to induce her lover to stay, cries,
Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day :
Believe me, love, it was the nightingale. But after a moment's reflection, se corrects herself, and replies,
It is, it is, hie hence, begone, away; It is the lark that sings so out of tune, Straining harsh discords, and unpleasing sharps. That figure which seems to deny what it advances, and in appearance contradicts itself, is, when properly applied, extremely elegant.
Cowards die many times before their deaths ;