boldly like a Souldier stand deaths shocke,
Concluding, lust can strike the Eagle blinde.

96

His haughty words amaz'd this king of loue,
Thou wert not wont to speake thus without duty.
Can her embraces so my soule remoue?
And must he be a coward dotes on beauty?
Such rarity of pleasure I do proue,
In her enioying, that my soule is fed,
With that variety, to speake her truly,
Each night she giues me a new maiden-head.

97

Yet shall my subiects know my power in this,
That I can rule mine own affection:
I pardon freely what thou speak'st amisse,
Knowing it sprung from loue, and thy subiection:
Your eies shall see me rob the earth of blisse,
A sight too sad, all heauen strike men with terror,
And in that act cast such reflexion.
That kings shall see th[=e]selues in me their mirror.

98

Go, tell my Bashaes, and the noble bloud,
I do inuite them to a royall dinner,
And there I'le shew them loue can be withstood:
Yet he that wrongs my _Greeke_ is such a sinner,
He cannot cleanse himselfe, washt in _Ioues_ flood.
Fortune this fate vpon my loue hath hurld,
The Monarkes of the earth in hope to win her,
Against her beauty would stake all the world.

99

Leaue vs: and be thou comforted my faire,
I will aduance thee bou'e the stile of woman:
Let not my words bring thee vnto dispaire,
Thou shalt imbrace the Gods, for her's no man
Worthy to taste thy sweetes, they are so rare.
Drawn by the _Phoenix_ thou through heauen shalt ride
And _Saturn_ wo[=u]ded by loues litle bowman
Shall get his sonne to haue thee stellifide.

100

Go decke thy beauty with heauens ornament,
Shine Cinthia like with iewels in the night,
As she with starres stucke in heauens firmament;
But thine, the greater will deface her light,
Making her yeeld to thee her gouernment.
On _Saturnes_ top thy face shall gaine opinion,
Beyond cold _Phoebe_ shining out so bright,
Thou shalt be courted by her loue _Endimion_.

101

Let ioy possesse thy heart, and be thou proud,
In sight of all the Turkish Emperours Peares,
Let not thy sunne of beauty in a cloud,
Be hid from those, whose eies with deawy teares,
For want of thy pure heate in shades do shroud,
Their drooping forheads, but thy beames exhales
All misty vapours, an