Put out the light, and then put out the light: If I quench thee, thou flaming minister, I can again thy former light restore Should I repent me; but once put out thy light, Thou cunningst pattern of excelling nature, I know not where is that Promethean heat That can thy light relume.
I have done the state some service, and they know t. No more of that. I pray you, in your letters, When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice. Then, must you speak Of one that loved not wisely but too well; Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought Perplexd in the extreme; of one whose hand, Like the base Indian, threw a pearl away