So foule a fault is not within your breast,
Then tell me true the occasion of this fit.
The Lady frown'd, & stopt her speaking farther,
And said get h[=e]ce, is't shame to loue our father?

I she reply'd, in such a filthy sort,
It is not loue, but lust that you professe,
Necessity with true loue cannot sort;
Your loue contaminates, you must confesse.
A daughters loue then to your father show,
Some loue _good things_ but with _bad loue_, I know.

Or if your wanton flesh you cannot tame,
Nor coole the burning of your hot desire,
Then take some one that not augmets the shame
And set apart to dote vpon your fire.
It is most vile to stand in such a need,
To make the actor baser then the deed.

Besides, his yeares can yeeld no such content,
That blithsome wanton dames expect to haue,
Herein your bargaine you will soone repent,
Wh[=e] you shal find great want of that you craue:
Are you so mad, o will you once beleeue
Old men content to frolicke Dames can giue?

Take this example of me, from the Sky,
Behold a shooting star from heauen fall
Whose glimmering light you scarcely do espye
But it is gone as nothing were at all;
And so their sports being scarse begun doth leaue
As in the aire concressions we perceiue.

Or as the bloomes vpon the Almond-tree,
That vanish sooner the the mush-rums done:
Or as the flies _Haemere_ we do see,
To leaue their breath their life being scarce begunne,
Who thinks that tree whose roots decai'd by time
Can yeeld like fruit to yong ones in their prime.

A rotten sticke more fit to burne then vse,
I maruell what from age you do expect,
Let my experience their defect accuse,
And teach thee how thy equals to affect;
When they should toy, iocund & sport with thee,
Their gouts, coughs & cramps, wil hindrance be.

'Tis nor their fault, but incident to age,
Which far more imperfections with it brings,
As iealousie, suspicion, fury, rage,
Dislike, disdaine, and other such like things,
For can the fire, hot in nature, dwell
With water cold, but they at length rebell.

Euen as in Summer one may aptly note,
The fire and water in one cloud contain'd;
And neither, yet, the mastery hauing got,
Being opposits, their furie's not restrain'd,
But do contend in strife and deadly warre,
Til scolding Thunder do pronounce the iarre.

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