Oh, Sirs, she can be loved by none of you
Most or least priestly! Saints, to do us good,
Must be in heaven, I seem to understand:
We never find them saints before, at least.
Be her first prayer then presently for you—
She has done the good to me ...
What is all this?
There, I was born, have lived, shall die, a fool!
This is a foolish outset:—might with cause
Give color to the very lie o' the man,