Act 5 — A PETITION
Reading edition
To spring belongs the violet, and the blown Spice of the roses let the summer own. Grant me this favor, Muse—all else withhold— That I may not write verse when I am old.
And yet I pray you, Muse, delay the time! Be not too ready to deny me rhyme; And when the hour strikes, as it must, dear Muse, I beg you very gently break the news.