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- And then for her To win the Moor,—were't to renounce his baptism, All seals and symbols of redeemed sin,— His soul is so enfetter'd to her love That she may make, unmake, do what she list, Even as her appetite shall play the god With his weak function. (not reviewed by editor)
- …To the very moment that he bade me tell it: Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances, Of moving accidents by flood and field; Of hair-breadth scapes i' the imminent deadly breach; Of being taken by the insolent foe, And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence, And portance in my travels' history: Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle, Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch heaven, It was my hint to speak,—such was the process; And of the Cannibals that each other eat,… (not reviewed by editor)
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