Finds brotherhood in thee no sharper spur?
Hath love in thy old blood no living fire?
......
Call it not patience, Gaunt; it is despair:
In suffering thus thy brother to be slaughter'd,
Thou showest the naked pathway to thy life,
Teaching stern murder how to butcher thee:
That which in mean men we intitle patience
Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts.
Thursday, 6 February 2014
No sharper spur
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