[017] Now counterfeit to swoon; why now fall down;
Or if thou canst not, O, for shame, for shame,
Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers!
020 Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee:
Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains
[022] Some scar of it; lean but upon a rush,
[023] The cicatrice and capable impressure
Thy palm some moment keeps; but now mine eyes,
025 Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not,
[026] Nor, I am sure, there is no force in eyes