Hear me a little, For I have only silent been so long
Hear me a little,
For I have only silent been so long,Hyperbaton
And given way unto this course of fortune,
By noting of the lady. I have marked
A thousand blushing apparitions
To start into her face, a thousand innocent shames
In angel whiteness beat away those blushes,Anaphora
And in her eye there hath appeared a fire
To burn the errors that these princes hold
Against her maiden truth.Metaphor
For I have only silent been so long,Hyperbaton
And given way unto this course of fortune,
By noting of the lady. I have marked
A thousand blushing apparitions
To start into her face, a thousand innocent shames
In angel whiteness beat away those blushes,Anaphora
And in her eye there hath appeared a fire
To burn the errors that these princes hold
Against her maiden truth.Metaphor
And in her eye there hath appeared a fire
To burn the errors that these princes hold
Against her maiden truth
Call me a fool,
Trust not my reading, nor my observations,
Which with experimental seal doth warrant
The tenure of my book; trust not my age,
My reverence, calling, nor divinity,Parallelism
If this sweet lady lie not guiltless hereAlliteration
Under some biting error.
Leonato
Friar, it cannot be.
Thou seest that all the grace that she hath left
Is that she will not add to her damnation
A sin of perjury. She not denies it.
Why seek’st thou then to cover with excuse
That which appears in proper nakedness?
Friar
Lady, what man is he you are accused of?
Hero
They know that do accuse me. I know none.
If I know more of any man alive
Than that which maiden modesty doth warrant,
Let all my sins lack mercy!—O my father,
Prove you that any man with me conversed
At hours unmeet, or that I yesternight
Maintained the change of words with any creature,
Refuse me, hate me, torture me to death!
Trust not my reading, nor my observations,
Which with experimental seal doth warrant
The tenure of my book; trust not my age,
My reverence, calling, nor divinity,Parallelism
If this sweet lady lie not guiltless hereAlliteration
Under some biting error.
Leonato
Friar, it cannot be.
Thou seest that all the grace that she hath left
Is that she will not add to her damnation
A sin of perjury. She not denies it.
Why seek’st thou then to cover with excuse
That which appears in proper nakedness?
Friar
Lady, what man is he you are accused of?
Hero
They know that do accuse me. I know none.
If I know more of any man alive
Than that which maiden modesty doth warrant,
Let all my sins lack mercy!—O my father,
Prove you that any man with me conversed
At hours unmeet, or that I yesternight
Maintained the change of words with any creature,
Refuse me, hate me, torture me to death!