Yet this Critick so sterne,
    But whom, none must discerne,
      Nor perfectly haue seeing,
    Strangely layes about him,
    As nothing without him
      Were worthy of being.

    That I my selfe betray
    To that most publique way, 20
      Where the Worlds old Bawd,
    Custome, that doth humor,
    And by idle rumor,
      Her Dotages applaud.

    That whilst he still prefers
    Those that be wholly hers,
      Madnesse and Ignorance,
    I creepe behind the Time,
    From spertling with their Crime,
      And glad too with my Chance. 30

    O wretched World the while,
    When the euill most vile,
      Beareth the fayrest face,
    And inconstant lightnesse,
    With a scornefull slightnesse,
      The best Things doth disgrace.

    Whilst this strange knowing Beast,
    Man, of himselfe the least,
      His Enuie declaring,
    Makes Vertue to descend, 40
    Her title to defend,
      Against him, much preparing.

    Yet these me not delude,
    Nor from my place extrude,
      By their resolued Hate;
    Their vilenesse that doe know;
    Which to my selfe I show,
      To keepe aboue my Fate.

TO HIS RIVALL

      Her lou’d I most,
      By thee that ’s lost,
    Though she were wonne with leasure;
      She was my gaine,
      But to my paine,
    Thou spoyl’st me of my Treasure.

      The Ship full fraught
      With Gold, farre sought,
    Though ne’r so wisely helmed,
      May suffer wracke 10
      In sayling backe,
    By Tempest ouer-whelmed.

      But shee, good Sir,
      Did not preferre
    You, for that I was ranging;
      But for that shee
      Found faith in mee,
    And she lou’d to be changing.

      Therefore boast not
      Your happy Lot, 20
    Be silent now you haue her;
      The time I knew
      She slighted you,
    When I was in her fauour.

      None stands so fast,
      But may be cast
    By Fortune, and disgraced: 
      Once did I weare
      Her Garter there,
    Where you her Gloue haue placed. 30

      I had the Vow
      That thou hast now,
    And Glances to discouer
      Her Loue to mee,
      And she to thee
    Reades but old Lessons ouer.

      She hath no Smile
      That can beguile,
    But as my Thought I know it;
      Yea, to a Hayre, 40
      Both when and where,
    And how she will bestow it.