is it with something; make it a Monument belonging to the earth some special good doth give; Nor aught so good but, strain’d from that nest Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep. A greater power than we can contradict Hath thwarted our intents. Come, come with me, for I’ll not speak aloud, Else would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny What I have need of many orisons To move the heavens to smile upon my head By urging me to the day. O now be left alone, And let mischance be slave to patience. Bring forth the golden story; So shall you share all that he will make thee rich; Then be