DAPHNIS.
The cypress trees are telling tales of love.
CHLORIS.
You tear off all behind me, and before me;
And I'm as naked as my mother bore me.
DAPHNIS.
I'll buy thee better clothes than these I tear,
And lie so close I'll cover thee from air.
CHLORIS.
You're liberal now; but when your turn is sped,
You'll wish me choked with every crust of bread.
DAPHNIS.
I'll give thee more, much more than I have told;
Would I could coin my very heart to gold!
CHLORIS.