Step 1 of 6 · Read it through once
Section 278
Passage 1 of 2 · section 278 of 785
1Quin.
2What art thou fallen?
3What subtile Hole is this,
4Whose mouth is couered with Rude growing Briers,
5Vpon whose leaues are drops of new‑shed‑blood,
6As fresh as mornings dew distil'd on
7flowers,
8A very fatall place it seemes to me: