Mistres face too soone,
Yet loue th[=e] both: it nought your honor dims,
One as your wife, the next for beauties sake,
So of them both a beauteous wife but make.

The glory of her haire is wonderous bright,
Vpon her brows doth ebbe and flow content
Her eies in motion do beget delight,
Her cheekes a tincture to _Aurora_ lent
Her teeths no pearle, her eyes no rubies are,
But flesh and bone, more red and white by far.

No lisping tongue that fondrels count a grace,
But doth to well tun'd harmony incline,
A necke inferior nought vnto the face,
And breath most apt for to be prest by thine,
Now if the vtter view so glorious proue,
Iudge how the hidden parts procure loue.

The King who all this while lent listening eare,
Being wrapt in admiration of her speech,
Now did begin more liuely to appeare
And for to know one thing of her did seech,
Saying, of what yeeres may this Lady be?
Iust of sweete _Myrahs_ age, replied shee.

He said then, bring her to conferre with mee,
That I may try if all be true you say.
It is most true, as after you shall see,
But said the Nurse, you now must let her stay,
Perhaps shee'le blush, and be to coy by light,
When she will yeeld more kindly in the night.

Such pretty Dames will hardly yeeld consent,
For in their mouthes they alwaies carry nay,
Yet if you giue, to take, they are content,
And nere refuse, whatere their tongue doth say:
For so they nature simple men abuse,
When what they loue they most of all refuse.

If I do fable, put me vnto shame,
In saying she resembles _Myrha_ much,
For 'tis so much, as if it were the same;
And when you seeke to gaine the loue of such
Let my experience thus much you assure
They Fawlcon-like stoop to a ganey lure.

And now you may, voide of suspected crime,
Dally with her in your lasciuious bed,
The sacred _Ceres_ feasts are at this time,
And there your Queen is stil: this scarcely sed,
Quoth _Cyneras_, bring her this night to mee,
Whereto the Nurse replide, I do agree.

With hopefull newes the Nurse return'd againe,
And cheer'd her chicke, & bad her not be sad,
Her wished sute, she certaine should obtaine,
The news wherof made _Myrha_ wondrous glad.
Yet as she ioy'd, she was opprest with feare,
Such discords of affections in her were.

Away slips time and hasteneth on the night,