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But what are kings, when regiment is gone, But perfect shadows in a sunshine day?
  • Edward II, 5.1 Christopher Marlowe
. . . his hand did quake, And tremble like a leafe of Aspin greene, And troubled blood through his pale face was seene To come, and goe with tidings from the heart, As it a ronning messenger had beene. Edmund Spenser, The Faerie Queene
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