"And eagerly she kist me with her tongue, And under mine her wanton thigh she flung. Yea, and she soothd me up, and calld me sire, And usde all speech that might provoke, and stirre. Yet like as if cold Hemlock I had drunke, It mocked me, hung downe the head, and sunke."
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Original Language: English
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Sources
Ovid, Amores, 6 (tr. Marlowe)
https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Conium
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Conium
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