The tongue is loosed of that most lying slave, Whom stripes may move, not kindness. Listen: "Lo, The real god of song, Lord Stephano, That's a brave god, if ever god were brave, And bears celestial liquor: but," the knave (A most ridiculous monster) howls, "we know From Ariel's lips what springs of poison flow, The chicken-heart blasphemer! Hear him rave!" Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself Upon thy wicked dam, the witch whose name Is darkness, and the sun her eyes' offence, Though hell's hot sewerage breed no loathlier elf, Men cry not shame upon thee, seeing thy shame So perfect: they but bid thee--"Hag-seed, hence!" THE WEARY WEDDING O daughter, why do ye laugh and weep, One with another? For woe to wake and for will to sleep, Mother, my mother. But weep ye winna the day ye wed, One with another. For tears are dry when the springs are dead, Mother, my mother. Too long have your tears run down like rain, One with another. For a long love lost and a sweet love slain, Mother, my mother. Too long have your tears dripped down like dew, One with another. For a knight that my sire and my brethren slew, Mother, my mother. Let past things perish and dead griefs lie, One with another. O fain would I weep not, and fain would I die, Mother, my mother. Fair gifts we give ye, to laugh and live, One with another. But sair and strange are the gifts I give, Mother, my mother. And what will ye give for your father's love? One with another. Fruits full few and thorns enough, Mother, my mother. And what will ye give for your mother's sake? One with another. Tears to brew and tares to bake, Mother, my mother. And what will ye give your sister Jean? One with another. A bier to build and a babe to wean, Mother, my mother. And what will ye give your sister Nell? One with another. The end of life and beginning of hell, Mother, my mother. And what will ye give your sister Kate? One with another. Earth's door and hell's gate, Mother, my mother. And what will ye give your brother Will? One with another. Life's grief and world's ill, Mother, my mother. And what will ye give your brother Hugh? One with another. A bed of turf to turn into, Mother, my mother. And what will ye give your brother John? One with another. The dust of death to feed upon, Mother, my mother. And what will ye give your bauld bridegroom? One with another. A barren bed and an empty room, Mother, my mother.