ఈ పుట ఆమోదించబడ్డది
Act. ii. Sc. i.
If it were now to die,
'T were now to be most happy ; for, I fear,
My soul hath her content so absolute,
That not another comfort like to this
Succeeds in unknown fate,
Sc. III.
How poor are they that have not patience !
What wound did ever heal but by degrees ?
Act. IV. Sc. III.
Heaven me such uses send,
Not to pick bad from bad, but by bad mend !
PERICLES Act. 1 Sc. 1.
For death remembered should be like a mirror
Who tells us life's but breath, to trust it, error. 49
Act. III. Sc. III.
We cannot but obey
The powers above us. 50
