uor there to walke.

And thou _Paenchaia_, rich in manys a thing,
In _Custus_, _Cynamon_ and _Incense_ sweete,
That out of trees aboundantly doth spring,
Of _Ammonie_, and things for vses meete.
Yet whilst thou yeeldest _Myrrh_, I wey thee not:
For thereunto hath _Myrha_ giuen a blot.

No measure in her filthy loue she found:
No ease, no rest, but death doth like her now.
Resolu'd on this she gets vp from the ground,
And mindes to hang her selfe, her loue to shew,
And then the noose about her necke she drawes,
And said, o _Cynaras!_ thou art the onely cause.

Farewell therfor, a thousand times farewell,
Deere _Cynaras_ thou mightst haue sau'd my life,
And thinke then, this to me alone befell,
Because I durst not loue thee as a wife.
Farewell againe. Oh welcome gentle death!
And then she went about to stop her breath.

A recompence fit for so foule a mind,
But yet by chance her aged Nurse did lye
Within a chamber that to hers adioyn'd,
Who ouer-hearing this, to her did hye;
And seeing her halfe murdered, so began
To shrieke & screeme, & straight vnto her ran.

Who first did snatch her girdle from her necke,
And powring teares vpon her plentuously,
Did hold her in her aged armes, though weake,
And kissing her did vrge the reason why
She went about away herselfe to make,
Or to her shame so base a course to take?

Quoth she, I pray thee tell the cause to me,
Behold these empty dugs, and head all gray,
These hands that pain haue took in rocking thee
Let some, or all these, cause thee to bewray
What cruel means haue broght thee in this case.
At which the Lady turnd away her face.

O be not coy sweet! hide thou nought from me,
I am thy Nurse, she said, and haue good skill
In charms, & hearbs, & dreams, that powerful be,
Of what thou wantst, Ile helpe thee to thy fill.
Art thou in loue, or witcht by any wight?
Il'e finde thee ease, or else will free the quite.

I haue bene wanton once as well as you,
Now yet by age, am altogether dull,
I haue beene loue-sicke, as you may be now,
Of toyes and loue-trickes I was wondrous full,
How strange so ere thy case do therefore stand,
I can and will redresse it out of hand.

Thou art in _Loue_ (my sweet) I well espy,
If so, no lacke shalt finde in me, I sweare,
The Lady in her armes sob'd bitterly,
The Nurse reply