Now all thefe hearts that doe on mine depend,
Feeling it breake, with bleeding groanes they pine,
And fupplicant their fighes to you extend
To leaue the battrie that you make gainst mine,
Lending foft audience, to my fweet designe,
And credent foule, to that ftrong bonded oth,
That fhall preferre and vndertake my troth.
This faid, his watrie eies he did difmount,
Whofe fightes till then were leaueld on my face,
Each cheeke a riuer running from a fount,
With brynifh currant dowe-ward flowed a pace:
Oh how the channell to the ftreame gaue grace!
Who glaz'd with chriftall gate the glowing roles,
That flame through water which their hew incloses.
Oh father, what a hell of witch-craft lies,
In the fmall orb of one perticular teare?
But with the invndation of the eies :
What rocky heart to water will not weare?
What breft fo cold that is not warmed heare,
Or cleft effect, cold modesty hot wrath :
Both fire from hence, and chill extincture hath.
For loe his paffion but an art of craft,
Euen there refolu'd my reafon into teares,
There my white stole of chastity I daft,
Shooke off my fober gardes, and ciuill feares,
Appeare to him as he to me appeares :
All melting, though our drops this diffrence bore,
"His poifon'd me, and mine did him reftore.
In him a plentitude of subtle matter,
Applied to cautills, all ftraing formes receiues,
Of burning blushes, or of weeping water,
Or founding paleneffe: and he takes and leaues,
In eithers aptneffe as it beft deceiues:
To blush at speeches ranck, to weepe at woes
Or to turne white and found at tragick showes.
That not a heart which in his leuell came,
Could fcape the haile of his all hurting ayme,
Shewing fair nature is both kinde and tame :
And vaild in them did winne whom he would maime,
Against the thing he fought, he would exclaime,
When he most burnt in hart-wifht luxurie,
He preacht pure maide, and praifd cold chastitie.
Thus meerely with the garment of a grace,
The naked and concealed feind he couerd,
That th' vnexperient gaue the tempter place,
Which like a cherubin aboue them houerd,
Who young and fimple would not be fo louerd.
Aye me I fell, and yet do queftion make,
What I should doe againe for fuch a fake.
O that infected moyfture of his eye,
O that falfe fire which in his cheeke fo glowd:
O that forc'd thunder from his heart did flye
O that fad breath his fpungie lungs bestowed,
O all that borrowed motion feeming owed,
Would yet againe betray the fore-betrayed,
And new peruert a reconciled maide.
As it hath bene diuers and fundry times lately acted.
LONDON, Printed by Simon Stafford for Iohn Wright, and are to bee fold at his shop at Chriftes church dore, next Newgate
Enter king Leir and nobles.
HUS to our griefe the obfequies performd
Of our (too late) deceaft and dearest queen,
Whose foule I hope, poffeft of heauēly ioyes,
Doth ride in triumph 'mōgst the cherubins;
Let vs request your graue aduice, my lords,
For the difpofing of our princely daughters,
For whom our care is fpecially imployd,
As nature bindeth to aduaunce their states,
In royall marriage with fome princely mates :
For wanting now their mothers good aduice,
Vnder whofe gouernment they haue receyued
A perfit patterne of a vertuous life:
Left as it were a fhip without a sterne,
Or filly fheepe without a paftors care;
Although our felues doe dearely tender them,
Yet are we ignorant of their affayres;
For fathers best do know to gouerne fonnes;
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