[[57]]

The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo.

Love's Labour's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2.

But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd

Than that which withering on the virgin thorn[57:1]

Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness.

A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 1.

For aught that I could ever read,[57:2]

Could ever hear by tale or history,

The course of true love never did run smooth.