Enter Emilia and her Woman, below.
And after death our spirits shall be led
To those that love eternally. Speak on, sir.
EMILIA.
This garden has a world of pleasures in’t.
What flower is this?
WOMAN.
’Tis called narcissus, madam.
EMILIA.
That was a fair boy, certain, but a fool,
To love himself. Were there not maids enough?
ARCITE.
Pray, forward.
PALAMON.
Yes.
EMILIA.
Or were they all hard-hearted?
WOMAN.
They could not be to one so fair.
EMILIA.
Thou wouldst not.