Might they aduance yee to a Goddesse seate, And you be ignorant why they make yee great?
(260) If this were true, which you of me suppose, The praise of beautie, and commended parts, I see no reason to esteeme of those, That do complaine them of such pettie smarts, Not incident to men of valiant harts: (265) The argument is dull, and nothing quicke, Bicause that I am faire, you should be sicke.
Suppose I haue those graces and those flowres, And all the vertues that you can recite, You looke, you like, and you must haue them yours; (270) Forsooth, bicause they mooue your appetite: I see no reason to impart my right, Before that God and men agreed be, To let all things run in communitie.
An easie thing for you to ouercome, (275) (Faire Ladie) him, that is so deepe your thrall: For euery syllable from your lips that come, Beares wit, and weight, and vehemence withall: Vnder the which, my subiect spirits fall: If you do speake, or if you nought expresse, (280) Your beautie of it selfe is Conqueresse.
With fauour (Ladie) giue me leaue to speake, (If you will listen a condemneds tale) No pettie wound can make my hart strings breake: Nor might a trifle worke this deadly bale: (285) Your soueraigne beautie doth me hither hale: The stronger doth (euen by a common course) Ouer the weaker exercise his force.
Ladie, in condiscending vnto Loue, You do not share nor yet your right forgo,