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 For Hymen's good: but to incur their harm, There he must pardon them. This wit went warm To Adolesche's brain, a nymph born high, Made all of voice and fire, that upwards fly: Her heart and all her forces' nether train, Climb'd to her tongue, and thither fell her brain, Since it could go no higher: and it must go, All powers she had, even her tongue, did so. In spirit and quickness she much joy did take, And lov'd her tongue, only for quickness' sake, And she would haste and tell. The rest all stay, Hymen goes one : the nymph another way: And what became of her I'll tell at last:— Yet take her visage now:—moist lipp'd, long fac'd, Thin like an iron wedge, so sharp and tart, As 'twere of purpose made to cleave Love's heart. Well were this lovely beauty rid of her, And Hymen did at Athens now prefer His welcome suit, which he with joy aspir'd: A hundred princely youths with him retir'd To fetch the nymphs: chariots and music went, And home they came: Heaven with applauses rent. The nuptials straight proceed, whilst all the town, Fresh in their joys, might do them most renown.