Ayres | ||
XVIII. If all these Cupids now were blinde
If all these Cupids now were blindeIf all these Cupids now were blinde, as is their wanton brother, Or play should put it in their mindes, to shoot at one another, What prety battaile they would make if they their obiects should mistake, and each one wound, and each one wound his mother.
Ayres | ||