Cannot, with all their demonstrations, move
Kind apprehension in your Phantasy
Of Dancing's virtue and nobility;
How can my barbarous tongue win you thereto,
Which heaven's and earth's fair speech could never do?
118.
O Love! my King! If all my Wit and power
Have done you all the service that they can;
O be you present, in this present hour,
And help your servant and your true liegeman!