V

Thus with her eyes brave Tamyris spake dread, Which when the kings dull breast not entered, Finding she could not looke, she strook him dead.

I

I

CANNOT tell, who loves the skeleton

Of a poor marmoset; nought but boan, boan; Give me a nakednesse, with her cloath's on.

II

Such, whose white-sattin upper coat of skin,
Cut upon velvet rich incarnadin,

Has yet a body (and of flesh) within.

III

Sure, it is meant good husbandry in men,
Who do incorporate with aëry leane,

T' repair their sides, and get their ribb agen.

IV

Hard hap unto that huntsman, that decrees
Fat joys for all his swet, when as he sees,
After his 'say, nought but his keepers fees.

V

Then, Love, I beg, when next thou tak'st thy bow, .

Thy angry shafts, and dost heart-chasing go,

Passe rascall deare, strike me the largest doe.

A LA BOURBON

Done moy plus de Pitie ou plus de Creaulte, car sans ci Ie ne puis pas Viure, ne Morir

DI

I

IVINE Destroyer, pitty me no more,
Or else more pitty me;

Give me more love, ah, quickly give me more,
Or else more cruelty!

For left thus as I am,

My heart is ice and flame;

And languishing thus, I
Can neither live nor dye!

II

Your glories are eclipst, and hidden in the grave Of this indifferency;

And, Cælia, you can neither altars have,

Nor I, a Diety:

They are aspects divine,

That still or smile, or shine,

Or, like th' offended sky,
Frowne death immediately.

THE FAIRE BEGGER

I

NOMANDING asker, if it be

Co

Pity that you faine would have,

Then I turne begger unto thee,

And aske the thing that thou dost crave.

I will suffice thy hungry need,

So thou wilt but my fancy feed.

II

In all ill yeares, was ever knowne
On so much beauty such a dearth?
Which, in that thrice-bequeathed gowne,
Lookes like the Sun eclipst with Earth,
Like gold in canvas, or with dirt
Unsoyled Ermins close begirt.

III

Yet happy he, that can but tast
This whiter skin, who thirsty is!
Fooles dote on sattin motions lac'd:
The gods go naked in their blisse.
At th' barrell's head there shines the vine,
There only relishes the wine.

IV

There quench my heat, and thou shalt sup Worthy the lips that it must touch, Nectar from out the starry cup:

I beg thy breath not halfe so much. So both our wants supplied shall be, You'l give for love, I, charity.

V

Cheape then are pearle-imbroderies, That not adorne, but cloud thy wast; Thou shalt be cloath'd above all prise, If thou wilt promise me imbrac❜t. Wee'l ransack neither chest nor shelfe: Ill cover thee with mine owne selfe.

VI

But, cruel, if thou dost deny

This necessary almes to me, What soft-soul'd man but with his eye

And hand will hence be shut to thee? Since all must judge you more unkinde: I starve your body, you, my minde.