PRINCE ARTHUR. HUBERT. A. HAVE you the heart? When your head did but ache, I knit my handkerchief about your brows, (The best I had, a princess wrought it me,) And I did never ask it you again: And with my hand at midnight held your head ; And, like the watchful minutes to the hour, Still and anon cheered up the heavy time; Saying, What lack you? and, Where lies your grief? ΑΡΤΟΥΡΟΣ. ΟΥΒΕΡΤΟΣ. Α. τλαίης δὲ πῶς ἄν; σοὶ γὰρ εὖτ ̓ ἤλγει κάρα, ζώνην κόμαισι σαῖς ἐπιζεύξας ἐμήν, ἐμῶν γ' ἀρίστην, βασιλίδος δ ̓ ἔργον χερός, εἶτ ̓ οὐκ ἀπῄτουν· καὶ τὸ σὸν χεροῖν ἐμαῖν κάρα μεσούσης εὐφρόνης ἐβάστασα γνώμων γὰρ ἕρπονθ ̓ ὡς βάδην τηρεῖ χρόνον ἐγερτὶ πικρὰν ὧδ ̓ ἐκούφιζον τριβήν, λέγων, τί χρήζεις; πῇ δὲ τἄλγος ἱζάνει; H. Or, What good love may I perform for you? If heaven be pleased that you must use me ill, Why then you must.-Will you put out mine eyes? So much as frown on you? I have sworn to do it, And with hot irons must I burn them out. SHAKESPEARE. ποίας δὲ δεῖ σε φιλτάτης ὑπουργίας ; ΟΥ. ἐνώμοτος γάρ εἰμι ποιήσειν τάδε· ἀκμαῖς δὲ χρή σοι μ' ἐμπύροις φθείρειν κόρας. To a Lady's Girdle. THAT which her slender waist confined It was my heaven's extremest sphere A narrow compass! And yet there WALLER. |