Page Thrice-noble lord, let me entreat of you To pardon me yet for a night or two, Or, if not so, until the sun be set, For your physicians have expressly charged, In peril to incur your former malady, That I should yet absent me from your bed. I hope this reason stands for my excuse. Sly Ay, it stands so that I may hardly tarry so long. But I would be loath to fall into my dreams again. I will therefore tarry in despite of the flesh and the blood. Read more about popup_note_index_item 3489
Third Servant Or Daphne roaming through a thorny wood Scratching her legs that one shall swear she bleeds, And at that sight shall sad Apollo weep, So workmanly the blood and tears are drawn. Read more about popup_note_index_item 3488
Lord We'll show thee Io as she was a maid, And how she was beguilèd and surprised, As lively painted as the deed was done. Read more about popup_note_index_item 3487
Second Servant Dost thou love pictures? We will fetch thee straight Adonis painted by a running brook, And Cytherea all in sedges hid, Which seem to move and wanton with her breath, Even as the waving sedges play with wind. Read more about popup_note_index_item 3486
