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[Enter GOWER, before the temple of DIANA at Ephesus]
GOWER
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Now our | sands are | almost | run,
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More a | little,| and then dumb.
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T T T
o
This my | last boon give | me,
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For such | kindness | must re|lieve me:
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That you | aptly | will sup|pose,
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What page|antry,| what feats,| what shows,
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What minst|relsy,| and pret|ty din,
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The reg|ent made | in Myt|ilene,
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To greet | the king:| so he | thrived,
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That he | is prom|ised to | be wived
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To fair | Marin|a, but in | no wise,
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Till he | had done | his sac|rifice,
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As Di|an bade,| whereto | being bound,
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The inte|rim pray,| you all | confound.
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In feath|ered brief|ness sails | are filled,
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And wish|es fall | out^as | they're willed.
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At Eph|esus | the temp|le see,
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Our king,| and all | his comp|any.
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That he | can hith|er come | so soon,
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Is by | your fan|cy's thank|ful doom.
[Exit]