The paynefull smith with force of feruent heat, the hardest yron soone doth mollify: that with his heauy sledge he can it beat, and fashion to what he it list apply. Yet cannot all these flames in which I fry, her hart more harde then yron soft awhit; ne all the playnts and prayers with which I doe beat on th`anduyle of her stubberne wit: But still the more she feruent sees my fit: the more she frieseth in her wilfull pryde: and harder growes the harder she is smit, with all the playnts which to her be applyde. What then remaines but I to ashes burne, and she to stones at length all frosen turne?SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
The script ran 0.001 seconds.