Thy hounds shall make the Welkin answer them
And fetch shrill ecchoes from the hollow earth

1.Man. Say thou wilt course, thy gray-hounds are as swift
As breathed Stags: I fleeter then the Roe

2.M. Dost thou loue pictures? we wil fetch thee strait
Adonis painted by a running brooke,
And Citherea all in sedges hid,
Which seeme to moue and wanton with her breath,
Euen as the wauing sedges play with winde

Lord. Wee'l shew thee Io, as she was a Maid,
And how she was beguiled and surpriz'd,
As liuelie painted, as the deede was done

3.Man. Or Daphne roming through a thornie wood,
Scratching her legs, that one shal sweare she bleeds,
And at that sight shal sad Apollo weepe,
So workmanlie the blood and teares are drawne

Lord. Thou art a Lord, and nothing but a Lord:
Thou hast a Ladie farre more Beautifull,
Then any woman in this waining age

1.Man. And til the teares that she hath shed for thee,
Like enuious flouds ore-run her louely face,
She was the fairest creature in the world,
And yet shee is inferiour to none