human
For 'get you gone,' she doth not mean 'away.'
gpt
I fly not Death, to fly his deadly doom.
human
As ending anthem of my endless dolour.
gpt
Nor does your nostril Take in the scent of strong perfumes, to stifle The sourness of our breaths as we are fasting.
human
Now will he be swinged for reading _of_ my letter.
gpt
But say this weed her love from Valentine.
human
That may discover such integrity.
gpt
An heir, and near-allied unto the Duke.
human
And heir and niece.
gpt
Come, go with us; we'll bring thee to our crews.
human
Come, I must bring thee to our captain's cave,
gpt
Vain Thurio whom my very soul abhorred.
human
Madam, I pity much your grievances, Which since I know they virtuously are placed.
gpt
The corrector of Collier's folio, who first saw the loss, added--
human
When will you go?--This evening coming _on_.
gpt
It seems you loved not her, not leave her token.
human
Why dost thou cry Alas?--I cannot choose But pity her.--Wherefore should'st thou pity her?
gpt
Well, give _to_ her that ring, and therewithal.
human
From whom?--From Sir Proteus, my master, madam.
gpt
Aye, but her forehead's low, and mine's as high.