Love’s Labor’s Lost, [5.2.291-298]. Boyet. “They will, they will, God knows,/ And leap for joy, though they are lame with blows./ Therefore change favors; and, when they repair,/ Blow like sweet roses in this summer air.” Princess. “How blow? How blow? Speak to be understood.” Boyet. “Fair ladies mask’d are roses in their bud;/ Dismask’d, their damask sweet commixture shown,/ Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown.”
May 1, 2009 at 6:47 pm
[…] [1.1.100-109]; Love’s Labor’s Lost, [4.3.23-26]; Love’s Labor’s Lost, [5.2.291-298]; The Winter’s Tale, [4.4.218-222]; Timon of Athens, [4.3.84-88]; Pericles, [4.6.32-41]; […]