Pr. Then let me see thee lay it:
The sight of a skill’d hand will teach an art.
Serv. Thou seest this faggot which I now unbind,
How it is packed within.
Pr. I see the cones
And needles of the fir, which by the wind
In melancholy places ceaselessly
Sighing are strewn upon the tufted floor.
Serv. These took I from a sheltered bank, whereon
The sun looks down at noon; for there is need