Before the Temple of DIANA at Ephesus. |
| |
Enter GOWER. |
| Now our sands are almost run; |
| More a little, and then dumb. |
| This, my last boon, give me, |
| For such kindness must relieve me, |
| That you aptly will suppose |
| What pageantry, what feats, what shows, |
| What minstrelsy, and pretty din, |
| The regent made in Mitylen |
| To greet the king. So he thriv'd, |
| That he is promis'd to be wiv'd |
| To fair Marina; but in no wise |
| Till he had done his sacrifice, |
| As Dian bade: whereto being bound, |
| The interim, pray you, all confound. |
| In feather'd briefness sails are fill'd, |
| And wishes fall out as they 're will'd. |
| At Ephesus, the temple see, |
| Our king and all his company. |
| That he can hither come so soon, |
| Is by your fancy's thankful doom. [Exit. |
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