My face she nam’d the seate of fauour, (10) All my defects her tongue defended, My shape she prais’d, but most commended. My breath more sweete then Balme in sauour. Be old man with me delighted, Loue for loue shall be requited. (15) With her toyes at last she wone me: Now she coyes that hath vndone me.
FINIS. M. F G.