Yea, I can dance and toss my tears away.
The sighs I breathe are fragrant as the rhymes
Of men and maids whose hearts are overthrown.
I am the God for whom all maidens pray,
But none shall have me for herself alone.
XI.
No; I have love enough, here where I stand,
To marry fifty maids in their degree;
Aye, fifty times five thousand in a band,
And every bride the proxy of a score.