Or thy affection cannot hold the bent.
Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 4.
The spinsters and the knitters in the sun
And the free maids that weave their thread with bones
Do use to chant it: it is silly sooth,
And dallies with the innocence of love,
Like the old age.
Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 4.
Duke. And what 's her history?
Vio. A blank, my lord. She never told her love,