And, though not mortal, yet a cold shuddering dew

Dips me all o'er, as when the wrath of Jove

Speaks thunder and the chains of Erebus

To some of Saturn's crew. I must dissemble, 805

And try her yet more strongly.—Come, no more!

This is mere moral babble, and direct

Against the canon-laws of our foundation.

I must not suffer this; yet 'tis but the lees

And settlings of a melancholy blood. 810

But this will cure all straight; one sip of this