Oc. At the landing.
The. Now we hear!
What is this marvel like?
Oc. A frozen god.
Apollo cast in snow.
Phil. Sicilian suns
Are warm.
Oc. He's proof 'gainst sun. Why, he doth cool
His liver with his blood,—hath not a stir
Of whetted sense, be 't anger, love or pain,