Publisher's Synopsis
Duke. If Musicke be the food of Loue, play on, Giue me excesse of it: that surfetting, The appetite may sicken, and so dye.That straine agen, it had a dying fall: O, it came ore my eare, like the sweet soundThat breathes vpon a banke of Violets;Stealing, and giuing Odour. Enough, no more, 'Tis not so sweet now, as it was before.O spirit of Loue, how quicke and fresh art thou, That notwithstanding thy capacitie, Receiueth as the Sea. Nought enters there, Of what validity, and pitch so ere, But falles into abatement, and low priceEuen in a minute; so full of shapes is fancie, That it alone, is high fantasticallCu. Will you go hunt my Lord?Du. What Curio?Cu.
