Duchess:
Who am I?
Bosola:
Thou art a box of worm-seed, at best but asalvatory of green mummy.
The stage is about to be swept of corpses.
You have no more chance than an
Lodged in a hollow molar of an eohippus.
Come, now, no prattle of remergence with theovtws ov.(Greek word)As (the form requires the myth)A Greek girl stood once in the
Of Carneades, hearing mouthings of Probability,
Then mindful of love dashed her brain on a
So you,
O nameless Duchess who die young,
Meet death somewhat
And I am filled with a pity of beholding skulls.
There was no pride like yours.
Now considerations of the void coming
Not changed by the "strict gesture" of your
Split the straight line of
Into two infinities.
It is moot whether there be
As I finish this play by Webster:
The street-cars are still running
And the katharsis fades in the warm water of a yawn.
