You cannot laugh yourself, Sir, nor can I.
Her unpolluted corse doth sleep in earth,
Like a pure thought within a sinful soul.
Dearer is earth to God for her sweet sake.
WALTER.
'Tis said our nature is corrupt; but she
O'erlaid hers with all graces, ev'n as Night
Wears such a crowd of jewels on her face,
You cannot see 'tis black.
VIOLET.
How looked this youth?
Did he in voice or mien resemble you?
Was he about your age? Wore he such curls?
Such eyes of dark sea-blue?
WALTER.
Why do you ask?
VIOLET.
I thought just now you might resemble him.
Were you not brothers?—twins? Or was the one
A shadow of the other?
WALTER.