Things base and vile, folding no quantity, Love can transpose to form and dignity: Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind:
break the locks Of prison gates; And Phibbus' car Shall shine from far And make and mar The foolish Fates.
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cold fruitless moon
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Theseus, our renowned duke
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If then true lovers have been ever cross'd, It stands as an edict in destiny: Then let us teach our trial patience, Because it is a customary cross, As due to love as thoughts and dreams and sighs, Wishes and tears, poor fancy's followers.