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The Song.
A Faire maide wed to prying iealousie
One of the fairest as euer I did see,
If that thou wilt a secret louer take,
Sweete life, doe not my secret loue forsake.

The glosse.
Beware good Loue, beware it is not well
To let blinde Fortune haue a greater part
In women, that in Beautie doe excell,
More then thy selfe, since such an one thou art:
For Beautie being commended to thy power
To grace the same,
Thou dost thy selfe dishonour euery hower,
And art to blame,
By suffring, that this thing should euer be,
A faire maide wed to prying iealousie.

Thou dost but ill, since thou didst euer make
Beautie thy friend, who therefore had prepared
Sorrowes for him, (that viewed her) for thy sake,
Which otherwise she would haue kept and spared:
And so my firmnesse, and my faith so pure,
And all my paine,
A simple sight did not the same procure,
Nor did maint aine,
But sight of her, and it was onely shee
One of the fairest as euer I did see.

O Loue! thou kilst so many without end,
(For murdring is thy pastime and delight)
That once I hope thy selfe thou shalt offend,
For want they shall on whom to worke thy spight.
Oh then how seemely shalt thou seeme to grone,
And wounded see
Thyselfe with thine owne griefes, and then thine owne
Captiue to be.
For thou at last thy selfe shalt not forsake,
If that thou wilt a secret Louer take.

Then maist thou giue to Louers double smart,
And then I will forgiue thee all the care
And amorous paines, thou didst to me impart,
When that thy selfe (fond Loue) thou dost not spare:
And if I blame thy deedes or do reprooue thee,
Then shalt thou say,