Sweet eye, sweet lip, sweet blushing cheek—
Yet not a heart to save my pain;
O Venus, take thy gifts again!
Make not so fair to cause our moan,
Or make a heart that’s like your own.”
The lute rippled away into silence.
Mary rose quietly to her feet and nodded to Anthony.
“Come back, you two!” cried the Queen.
Mary stepped straight through, the lad behind her.