¶Neuer did pa
ssenger in
sommers heat,
¶More thir
st for drinke, then
she for this good turne,
¶Her helpe
she
sees, but helpe
she cannot get,
¶She bathes in water, yet her fire mu
st burne:
95_Oh pitie gan
she crie, flint-heartedboy,
¶_Tis but a ki
sse I begge, why art thou coy?
¶I haue bene wooed as I intreat thee now,
¶Euen by the
sterne, and direfull god of warre,
¶VVho
se
sinowie necke in battell nere did bow,
100VVho conquers where he comes in euerie iarre,
¶_Yet hath he bene my captiue, and my
slaue,
¶_And begd for that which thou vnaskt
shalt haue.
¶Ouer my Altars hath he hong his launce,
¶His battred
shield, his vncontrolled cre
st,
105And for my
sake hath learnd to
sport, and daunce,
¶To toy, to wanton, dallie,
smile, and ie
st,
¶_Scorning his churli
sh drumme, and en
signe red,
¶_Making my armes his field, his tent my bed.
¶Thus he that ouer-ruld, I ouer-
swayed,
110Leading him pri
soner in a red ro
se chaine,
¶Strong-temperd
steele his
stronger
strength obayed.
¶Yet was he
seruile to my coy di
sdaine,
¶_Oh be not proud, nor brag not of thy might,
¶_For mai
string her that foyld the god of fight.