Speak to [my gossip Venus] one fair word,
One nickname for her purblind son and heir,
[Young Abraham Cupid], he that shot so [trim]
When King Cophetua lov'd the beggar-maid!—
He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not;
The [ape] is dead, and I must conjure him.—
I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes,
By her high forehead and her scarlet lip,
That in thy likeness thou appear to us!
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