Thy voice, like twenty screech-owls, wracks my brain.[107]
Queen. Then rouse thy spirit—we may yet prevent
This hated match.
Griz. We will; nor fate itself,[108]
Should it conspire with Thomas Thumb, should cause it.
I'll swim through seas; I'll ride upon the clouds:
I'll dig the earth; I'll blow out every fire;
I'll rave; I'll rant; I'll rise; I'll rush; I'll roar;
Fierce as the man whom smiling[109] dolphins bore
From the prosaic to poetic shore.