xnsmv/testtesttest huggingface dataset:
Duke: Where you with Sylvia may confer at large—
Duke: For she is lumpish, heavy, melancholy,
Duke: And, for your friend’s sake, will be glad of you—
Duke: Where you may temper her by your persuasion
Duke: To hate young Valentine and love my friend.
Duke: Ay, much is the force of heaven-bred poesy.
Duke: This discipline shows thou hast been in love.
Duke: About it, gentlemen.
Duke: Even now about it! I will pardon you.
Duke: How now, Sir Proteus?— How now, Thurio?
Duke: Which of you saw Eglamour of late?
Duke: Saw you my daughter?
Duke: Why, then, she’s fled unto that peasant, Valentine,
Duke: And Eglamour is in her company.
Duke: ’Tis true, for Friar Lawrence met them both
Duke: As he, in penance, wandered through the forest;
Duke: Him he knew well and guessed that it was she,
Duke: But, being masked, he was not sure of it.
Duke: Besides, she did intend confession
Duke: At Patrick’s cell this even, and there she was not.
Duke: These likelihoods confirm her flight from hence.
Duke: Therefore I pray you stand not to discourse,
Duke: But mount you presently and meet with me
Duke: Upon the rising of the mountain foot
Duke: That leads toward Mantua, whither they are fled.
Duke: Dispatch, sweet gentlemen, and follow me.
Duke: Sir Valentine?
Duke: The more degenerate and base art thou
Duke: To make such means for her as thou hast done,
Duke: And leave her on such slight conditions.—
Duke: Now, by the honor of my ancestry,
Duke: I do applaud thy spirit, Valentine,
Duke: And think thee worthy of an empress’ love.
Duke: Know, then, I here forget all former griefs,
Duke: Cancel all grudge, repeal thee home again,
Duke: Plead a new state in thy unrivaled merit,
Duke: To which I thus subscribe: Sir Valentine,
Duke: Thou art a gentleman, and well derived;
Duke: Take thou thy Sylvia, for thou hast deserved her.
Duke: I grant it for thine own, whate’er it be.
Duke: Thou hast prevailed; I pardon them and thee.
Duke: Dispose of them as thou know’st their deserts.
Duke: Come, let us go; we will include all jars
Duke: With triumphs, mirth, and rare solemnity.
Duke: I think the boy hath grace in him; he blushes.
Duke: What mean you by that saying?
Servants: Madam, my lord your father would speak with you.
Outlaws 1: Fellows, stand fast. I see a passenger.
Outlaws 1: That’s not so, sir. We are your enemies.
Outlaws 1: Whence came you?
Outlaws 1: What, were you banished thence?
Outlaws 1: Why, ne’er repent it if it were done so;
Outlaws 1: But were you banished for so small a fault?
Outlaws 1: We’ll have him.— Sirs, a word.
Outlaws 1: And I for such like petty crimes as these.
Outlaws 1: But to the purpose: for we cite our faults
Outlaws 1: That they may hold excused our lawless lives,
Outlaws 1: And partly seeing you are beautified
Outlaws 1: With goodly shape, and by your own report
Outlaws 1: A linguist, and a man of such perfection
Outlaws 1: As we do in our quality much want—
Outlaws 1: But if thou scorn our courtesy, thou diest.
Outlaws 1: Come, come, be patient. We must bring you to our captain.
Outlaws 1: Where is the gentleman that was with her?
Outlaws 1: Come, I must bring you to our captain’s cave.
Outlaws 1: Fear not; he bears an honorable mind
Outlaws 1: And will not use a woman lawlessly.
Outlaws 1: A prize, a prize, a prize!
Outlaws 2: If there be ten, shrink not, but down with ’em.
Outlaws 2: Peace. We’ll hear him.
Outlaws 2: Whither travel you?
Outlaws 2: For what offense?
Outlaws 2: Have you the tongues?
Outlaws 2: Tell us this: have you anything to take to?
Outlaws 2: And I from Mantua, for a gentleman
Outlaws 2: Who, in my mood, I stabbed unto the heart.
Outlaws 2: Indeed because you are a banished man,
Outlaws 2: Therefore, above the rest, we parley to you.
Outlaws 2: Are you content to be our general,
Outlaws 2: To make a virtue of necessity
Outlaws 2: And live as we do in this wilderness?
Outlaws 2: Thou shalt not live to brag what we have offered.
Outlaws 2: Come, bring her away.
Outlaws 2: A prize, a prize, a prize!
Outlaws 3: Stand, sir, and throw us that you have about you.
Outlaws 3: If not, we’ll make you sit, and rifle you.
Outlaws 3: Ay, by my beard, will we, for he is a proper man.
Outlaws 3: Have you long sojourned there?
Outlaws 3: By the bare scalp of Robin Hood’s fat friar,
Outlaws 3: This fellow were a king for our wild faction.
Outlaws 3: Know then that some of us are gentlemen,
Outlaws 3: Such as the fury of ungoverned youth
Outlaws 3: Thrust from the company of awful men.
Outlaws 3: Myself was from Verona banishèd
Outlaws 3: For practicing to steal away a lady,
Outlaws 3: An heir and near allied unto the Duke.
Outlaws 3: What sayst thou? Wilt thou be of our consort?
Outlaws 3: Say ay, and be the captain of us all;
Outlaws 3: We’ll do thee homage and be ruled by thee,
Outlaws 3: Love thee as our commander and our king.
Outlaws 3: No, we detest such vile base practices.
Outlaws 3: Come, go with us; we’ll bring thee to our crews
Outlaws 3: And show thee all the treasure we have got,
Outlaws 3: Which, with ourselves, all rest at thy dispose.
Outlaws 3: Being nimble-footed, he hath outrun us,
Outlaws 3: But Moyses and Valerius follow him.
Outlaws 3: Go thou with her to the west end of the wood;
Outlaws 3: There is our captain. We’ll follow him that’s fled.
Outlaws 3: The thicket is beset; he cannot ’scape.
Outlaws 3: A prize, a prize, a prize!
Host: Now, my young guest, methinks you’re allycholly. I pray you, why is it?
Host: Come, we’ll have you merry. I’ll bring you where you shall hear music and see the gentleman that you asked for.
Host: Ay, that you shall.
Host: Hark, hark.
Host: Ay. But peace; let’s hear ’em.
Host: How now? Are you sadder than you were before? How do you, man? The music likes you not.
Host: Why, my pretty youth?
Host: How, out of tune on the strings?
Host: You have a quick ear.
Host: I perceive you delight not in music.
Host: Hark, what fine change is in the music!
Host: You would have them always play but one thing?
Host: I tell you what Lance his man told me: he loved her out of all nick.
Host: Gone to seek his dog, which tomorrow, by his master’s command, he must carry for a present to his lady.
Host: By my halidom, I was fast asleep.
Host: Marry, at my house. Trust me, I think ’tis almost day.
Eglamour: This is the hour that Madam Sylvia
Eglamour: Entreated me to call and know her mind;
Eglamour: There’s some great matter she’d employ me in.
Eglamour: Madam, madam!
Eglamour: Your servant, and your friend,
Eglamour: One that attends your Ladyship’s command.
Eglamour: As many, worthy lady, to yourself.
Eglamour: According to your Ladyship’s impose,
Eglamour: I am thus early come to know what service
Eglamour: It is your pleasure to command me in.
Eglamour: Madam, I pity much your grievances,
Eglamour: Which, since I know they virtuously are placed,
Eglamour: I give consent to go along with you,
Eglamour: Recking as little what betideth me
Eglamour: As much I wish all good befortune you.
Eglamour: When will you go?
Eglamour: Where shall I meet you?
Eglamour: I will not fail your Ladyship. Good morrow, gentle lady.
Eglamour: The sun begins to gild the western sky,
Eglamour: And now it is about the very hour
Eglamour: That Sylvia at Friar Patrick’s cell should meet me.
Eglamour: She will not fail, for lovers break not hours,
Eglamour: Unless it be to come before their time,
Eglamour: So much they spur their expedition.
Eglamour: See where she comes.— Lady, a happy evening.
Eglamour: Fear not. The forest is not three leagues off;
Eglamour: If we recover that, we are sure enough.
Orsino: If music be the food of love, play on.
Orsino: Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
Orsino: The appetite may sicken and so die.
Orsino: That strain again! It had a dying fall.
Orsino: O, it came o’er my ear like the sweet sound
Orsino: That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Orsino: Stealing and giving odor. Enough; no more.
Orsino: ’Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
Orsino: O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou,
Orsino: That, notwithstanding thy capacity
Orsino: Receiveth as the sea, naught enters there,
Orsino: Of what validity and pitch soe’er,
Orsino: But falls into abatement and low price
Orsino: Even in a minute. So full of shapes is fancy
Orsino: That it alone is high fantastical.
Orsino: What, Curio?
Orsino: Why, so I do, the noblest that I have.
Orsino: O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first,
Orsino: Methought she purged the air of pestilence.
Orsino: That instant was I turned into a hart,
Orsino: And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds,
Orsino: E’er since pursue me.
Orsino: How now, what news from her?
Orsino: O, she that hath a heart of that fine frame
Orsino: To pay this debt of love but to a brother,
Orsino: How will she love when the rich golden shaft
Orsino: Hath killed the flock of all affections else
Orsino: That live in her; when liver, brain, and heart,
Orsino: These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and filled
Orsino: Her sweet perfections with one self king!
Orsino: Away before me to sweet beds of flowers!
Orsino: Love thoughts lie rich when canopied with bowers.
Orsino: Who saw Cesario, ho?
Orsino: Stand you awhile aloof.— Cesario,
Orsino: Thou know’st no less but all. I have unclasped
Orsino: To thee the book even of my secret soul.
Orsino: Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her.
Orsino: Be not denied access. Stand at her doors
Orsino: And tell them, there thy fixèd foot shall grow
Orsino: Till thou have audience.
Orsino: Be clamorous and leap all civil bounds
Orsino: Rather than make unprofited return.
Orsino: O, then unfold the passion of my love.
Orsino: Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith.
Orsino: It shall become thee well to act my woes.
Orsino: She will attend it better in thy youth
Orsino: Than in a nuncio’s of more grave aspect.
Orsino: Dear lad, believe it;
Orsino: For they shall yet belie thy happy years
Orsino: That say thou art a man. Diana’s lip
Orsino: Is not more smooth and rubious, thy small pipe
Orsino: Is as the maiden’s organ, shrill and sound,
Orsino: And all is semblative a womans part.
Orsino: I know thy constellation is right apt
Orsino: For this affair.— Some four or five attend him,
Orsino: All, if you will, for I myself am best
Orsino: When least in company.— Prosper well in this
Orsino: And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord,
Orsino: To call his fortunes thine.
Orsino: Give me some music. Now, good morrow, friends.—
Orsino: Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song,
Orsino: That old and antique song we heard last night.
Orsino: Methought it did relieve my passion much,
Orsino: More than light airs and recollected terms
Orsino: Of these most brisk and giddy-pacèd times.
Orsino: Come, but one verse.
Orsino: Who was it?
Orsino: Seek him out and play the tune the while.
Orsino: Come hither, boy. If ever thou shalt love,
Orsino: In the sweet pangs of it remember me,
Orsino: For such as I am, all true lovers are,
Orsino: Unstaid and skittish in all motions else
Orsino: Save in the constant image of the creature
Orsino: That is beloved. How dost thou like this tune?
Orsino: Thou dost speak masterly.
Orsino: My life upon ’t, young though thou art, thine eye
Orsino: Hath stayed upon some favor that it loves.
Orsino: Hath it not, boy?
Orsino: What kind of woman is ’t?
Orsino: She is not worth thee, then. What years, i’ faith?
Orsino: Too old, by heaven. Let still the woman take
Orsino: An elder than herself. So wears she to him;
Orsino: So sways she level in her husband’s heart.
Orsino: For, boy, however we do praise ourselves,
Orsino: Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,
Orsino: More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn,
Orsino: Than women’s are.
Orsino: Then let thy love be younger than thyself,
Orsino: Or thy affection cannot hold the bent.
Orsino: For women are as roses, whose fair flower,
Orsino: Being once displayed, doth fall that very hour.
Orsino: O, fellow, come, the song we had last night.—
Orsino: Mark it, Cesario. It is old and plain;
Orsino: The spinsters and the knitters in the sun
Orsino: And the free maids that weave their thread with bones
Orsino: Do use to chant it. It is silly sooth,
Orsino: And dallies with the innocence of love
Orsino: Like the old age.
Orsino: Ay, prithee, sing.
Orsino: There’s for thy pains.
Orsino: I’ll pay thy pleasure, then.
Orsino: Give me now leave to leave thee.
Orsino: Let all the rest give place.
Orsino: Once more, Cesario,
Orsino: Get thee to yond same sovereign cruelty.
Orsino: Tell her my love, more noble than the world,
Orsino: Prizes not quantity of dirty lands.
Orsino: The parts that Fortune hath bestowed upon her,
Orsino: Tell her, I hold as giddily as Fortune.
Orsino: But ’tis that miracle and queen of gems
Orsino: That nature pranks her in attracts my soul.
Orsino: I cannot be so answered.
Orsino: There is no woman’s sides
Orsino: Can bide the beating of so strong a passion
Orsino: As love doth give my heart; no woman’s heart
Orsino: So big, to hold so much; they lack retention.
Orsino: Alas, their love may be called appetite,
Orsino: No motion of the liver but the palate,
Orsino: That suffer surfeit, cloyment, and revolt;
Orsino: But mine is all as hungry as the sea,
Orsino: And can digest as much. Make no compare
Orsino: Between that love a woman can bear me
Orsino: And that I owe Olivia.
Orsino: What dost thou know?
Orsino: And what’s her history?
Orsino: But died thy sister of her love, my boy?
Orsino: Ay, that’s the theme.
Orsino: To her in haste. Give her this jewel. Say
Orsino: My love can give no place, bide no denay.
Orsino: Belong you to the Lady Olivia, friends?
Orsino: I know thee well. How dost thou, my good fellow?
Orsino: Just the contrary: the better for thy friends.
Orsino: How can that be?
Orsino: Why, this is excellent.
Orsino: Thou shalt not be the worse for me; there’s gold.
Orsino: O, you give me ill counsel.
Orsino: Well, I will be so much a sinner to be a double-dealer: there’s another.
Orsino: You can fool no more money out of me at this throw. If you will let your lady know I am here to speak with her, and bring her along with you, it may awake my bounty further.
Orsino: That face of his I do remember well.
Orsino: Yet when I saw it last, it was besmeared
Orsino: As black as Vulcan in the smoke of war.
Orsino: A baubling vessel was he captain of,
Orsino: For shallow draught and bulk unprizable,
Orsino: With which such scatheful grapple did he make
Orsino: With the most noble bottom of our fleet
Orsino: That very envy and the tongue of loss
Orsino: Cried fame and honor on him.— What’s the matter?
Orsino: Notable pirate, thou saltwater thief,
Orsino: What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies
Orsino: Whom thou, in terms so bloody and so dear,
Orsino: Hast made thine enemies?
Orsino: When came he to this town?
Orsino: Here comes the Countess. Now heaven walks on Earth!—
Orsino: But for thee, fellow: fellow, thy words are madness.
Orsino: Three months this youth hath tended upon me—
Orsino: But more of that anon. Take him aside.
Orsino: Gracious Olivia—
Orsino: Still so cruel?
Orsino: What, to perverseness? You, uncivil lady,
Orsino: To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars
Orsino: My soul the faithful’st off’rings have breathed out
Orsino: That e’er devotion tendered— what shall I do?
Orsino: Why should I not, had I the heart to do it,
Orsino: Like to th’ Egyptian thief at point of death,
Orsino: Kill what I love?— a savage jealousy
Orsino: That sometime savors nobly. But hear me this:
Orsino: Since you to nonregardance cast my faith,
Orsino: And that I partly know the instrument
Orsino: That screws me from my true place in your favor,
Orsino: Live you the marble-breasted tyrant still.
Orsino: But this your minion, whom I know you love,
Orsino: And whom, by heaven I swear, I tender dearly,
Orsino: Him will I tear out of that cruel eye
Orsino: Where he sits crownèd in his master’s spite.—
Orsino: Come, boy, with me. My thoughts are ripe in mischief.
Orsino: I’ll sacrifice the lamb that I do love
Orsino: To spite a raven’s heart within a dove.
Orsino: Come, away!
Orsino: Husband?
Orsino: Her husband, sirrah?
Orsino: O thou dissembling cub! What wilt thou be
Orsino: When time hath sowed a grizzle on thy case?
Orsino: Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow
Orsino: That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow?
Orsino: Farewell, and take her, but direct thy feet
Orsino: Where thou and I henceforth may never meet.
Orsino: My gentleman Cesario?
Orsino: How now, gentleman? How is ’t with you?
Orsino: One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons!
Orsino: A natural perspective, that is and is not!
Orsino: Be not amazed; right noble is his blood.
Orsino: If this be so, as yet the glass seems true,
Orsino: I shall have share in this most happy wrack.—
Orsino: Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times
Orsino: Thou never shouldst love woman like to me.
Orsino: Give me thy hand,
Orsino: And let me see thee in thy woman’s weeds.
Orsino: This savors not much of distraction.
Orsino: Madam, I am most apt t’ embrace your offer.
Orsino: Your master quits you; and for your service done him,
Orsino: So much against the mettle of your sex,
Orsino: So far beneath your soft and tender breeding,
Orsino: And since you called me “ master” for so long,
Orsino: Here is my hand. You shall from this time be
Orsino: Your master’s mistress.
Orsino: Is this the madman?
Orsino: Pursue him and entreat him to a peace.
Orsino: He hath not told us of the Captain yet.
Orsino: When that is known, and golden time convents,
Orsino: A solemn combination shall be made
Orsino: Of our dear souls.— Meantime, sweet sister,
Orsino: We will not part from hence.— Cesario, come,
Orsino: For so you shall be while you are a man.
Orsino: But when in other habits you are seen,
Orsino: Orsino’s mistress, and his fancy’s queen.
Curio: Will you go hunt, my lord?
Curio: The hart.
Curio: He is not here, so please your Lordship, that should sing it.
Curio: Feste the jester, my lord, a Fool that the Lady Olivia’s father took much delight in. He is about the house.
Valentine: So please my lord, I might not be admitted,
Valentine: But from her handmaid do return this answer:
Valentine: The element itself, till seven years’ heat,
Valentine: Shall not behold her face at ample view,
Valentine: But like a cloistress she will veilèd walk,
Valentine: And water once a day her chamber round
Valentine: With eye-offending brine— all this to season
Valentine: A brother’s dead love, which she would keep fresh
Valentine: And lasting in her sad remembrance.
Valentine: If the Duke continue these favors towards you, Cesario, you are like to be much advanced. He hath known you but three days, and already you are no stranger.
Viola Cesario: What country, friends, is this?
Viola Cesario: And what should I do in Illyria?
Viola Cesario: My brother he is in Elysium.
Viola Cesario: Perchance he is not drowned.— What think you, sailors?
Viola Cesario: O, my poor brother! And so perchance may he be.
Viola Cesario: For saying so, there’s gold.
Viola Cesario: Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,
Viola Cesario: Whereto thy speech serves for authority,
Viola Cesario: The like of him. Know’st thou this country?
Viola Cesario: Who governs here?
Viola Cesario: What is his name?
Viola Cesario: Orsino. I have heard my father name him.
Viola Cesario: He was a bachelor then.
Viola Cesario: What’s she?
Viola Cesario: O, that I served that lady,
Viola Cesario: And might not be delivered to the world
Viola Cesario: Till I had made mine own occasion mellow,
Viola Cesario: What my estate is.
Viola Cesario: There is a fair behavior in thee, captain,
Viola Cesario: And though that nature with a beauteous wall
Viola Cesario: Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee
Viola Cesario: I will believe thou hast a mind that suits
Viola Cesario: With this thy fair and outward character.
Viola Cesario: I prithee— and I’ll pay thee bounteously—
Viola Cesario: Conceal me what I am, and be my aid
Viola Cesario: For such disguise as haply shall become
Viola Cesario: The form of my intent. I’ll serve this duke.
Viola Cesario: Thou shalt present me as an eunuch to him.
Viola Cesario: It may be worth thy pains, for I can sing
Viola Cesario: And speak to him in many sorts of music
Viola Cesario: That will allow me very worth his service.
Viola Cesario: What else may hap, to time I will commit.
Viola Cesario: Only shape thou thy silence to my wit.
Viola Cesario: I thank thee. Lead me on.
Viola Cesario: You either fear his humor or my negligence, that you call in question the continuance of his love. Is he inconstant, sir, in his favors?
Viola Cesario: I thank you.
Viola Cesario: Here comes the Count.
Viola Cesario: On your attendance, my lord, here.
Viola Cesario: Sure, my noble lord,
Viola Cesario: If she be so abandoned to her sorrow
Viola Cesario: As it is spoke, she never will admit me.
Viola Cesario: Say I do speak with her, my lord, what then?
Viola Cesario: I think not so, my lord.
Viola Cesario: I’ll do my best
Viola Cesario: To woo your lady. Yet a barful strife!
Viola Cesario: Whoe’er I woo, myself would be his wife.
Viola Cesario: The honorable lady of the house, which is she?
Viola Cesario: Most radiant, exquisite, and unmatchable beauty— I pray you, tell me if this be the lady of the house, for I never saw her. I would be loath to cast away my speech, for, besides that it is excellently well penned, I have taken great pains to con it. Good beauties, let me sustain no scorn. I am very comptible even to the least sinister usage.
Viola Cesario: I can say little more than I have studied, and that question’s out of my part. Good gentle one, give me modest assurance if you be the lady of the house, that I may proceed in my speech.
Viola Cesario: No, my profound heart. And yet by the very fangs of malice I swear I am not that I play. Are you the lady of the house?
Viola Cesario: Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp yourself, for what is yours to bestow is not yours to reserve. But this is from my commission. I will on with my speech in your praise and then show you the heart of my message.
Viola Cesario: Alas, I took great pains to study it, and ’tis poetical.
Viola Cesario: No, good swabber, I am to hull here a little longer.— Some mollification for your giant, sweet lady.
Viola Cesario: I am a messenger.
Viola Cesario: It alone concerns your ear. I bring no overture of war, no taxation of homage. I hold the olive in my hand. My words are as full of peace as matter.
Viola Cesario: The rudeness that hath appeared in me have I learned from my entertainment. What I am and what I would are as secret as maidenhead: to your ears, divinity; to any other’s, profanation.
Viola Cesario: Most sweet lady—
Viola Cesario: In Orsino’s bosom.
Viola Cesario: To answer by the method, in the first of his heart.
Viola Cesario: Good madam, let me see your face.
Viola Cesario: Excellently done, if God did all.
Viola Cesario: ’Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white
Viola Cesario: Nature’s own sweet and cunning hand laid on.
Viola Cesario: Lady, you are the cruel’st she alive
Viola Cesario: If you will lead these graces to the grave
Viola Cesario: And leave the world no copy.
Viola Cesario: I see you what you are. You are too proud.
Viola Cesario: But if you were the devil you are fair.
Viola Cesario: My lord and master loves you. O, such love
Viola Cesario: Could be but recompensed though you were crowned
Viola Cesario: The nonpareil of beauty.
Viola Cesario: With adorations, fertile tears,
Viola Cesario: With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire.
Viola Cesario: If I did love you in my master’s flame,
Viola Cesario: With such a suff’ring, such a deadly life,
Viola Cesario: In your denial I would find no sense.
Viola Cesario: I would not understand it.
Viola Cesario: Make me a willow cabin at your gate
Viola Cesario: And call upon my soul within the house,
Viola Cesario: Write loyal cantons of contemnèd love
Viola Cesario: And sing them loud even in the dead of night,
Viola Cesario: Hallow your name to the reverberate hills
Viola Cesario: And make the babbling gossip of the air
Viola Cesario: Cry out “ Olivia!” O, you should not rest
Viola Cesario: Between the elements of air and earth
Viola Cesario: But you should pity me.
Viola Cesario: Above my fortunes, yet my state is well.
Viola Cesario: I am a gentleman.
Viola Cesario: I am no fee’d post, lady. Keep your purse.
Viola Cesario: My master, not myself, lacks recompense.