Artes to conuert to profit of one life, wend after death to haue their temples sought, (5) If vertue yet no voide vnthankfull time, Failed of some to blast her endles fame, A goodly meane both to deterre from crime: And to her steppes our sequele to enflame,In daies of truth if Wiates frendes then waile, (10) The only det that dead of quick may claime: That rare wit spent employd to our auaile. where Christ is taught we led to vertues traine. His liuely face their brestes how did it freat, Whose cindres yet with enuy they do eate.
Of Sardanapalus dishonora-
ble life, and miserable
T Hassirian king + in peace, with foule desire, And filthy lustes, that staind his regal hart In warre that should set princely hartes on fire: Did yeld, vanquisht for want of marciall art. (5) The dint of swordes from kisses semed strange: And harder, than his ladies side, his targe: From glutton feastes, to souldiars fare a change: His helmet, farre aboue a garlands charge. Who scace the name of manhode did retain, (10) Drenched in slouth, and womanish delight, Feble of sprite, impacient of pain: When he had lost his honor, and his right: Proud, time of wealth, in stormes appalled with dred, Murthered himself, to shew some manful dede.