LOCRINE.

My sister wellnigh wast thou once: and now -

GUENDOLEN.

Thy sister never I: my brother thou.

LOCRINE.

How shall man sound this riddle? Read it me.

GUENDOLEN.

As loves a sister, never loved I thee.

LOCRINE.

Not when we played as twinborn child with child?

GUENDOLEN.

If then thou thought'st it, both were sore beguiled.

LOCRINE.

I thought thee sweeter then than summer doves.

GUENDOLEN.