Cytherea,
How bravely thou becom’st thy bed! fresh lily!
And whiter than the sheets! That I might touch!
But kiss; one kiss! Rubies unparagoned,
How dearly they do’t!—’tis her breathing that
Perfumes the chamber thus.
Cymbeline, ii. 2.
Imogene. Last night ’twas on mine arm; I kissed it;
I hope it be not gone to tell my lord