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