Xi

Of griesly Pluto she the daughter was, And sad Proserpina the Queene of hell; Yet did she thinke her pearlesse worth to pas That parentage,° with pride so did she swell; And thundring Jove, that high in heaven doth dwell, And wield the world, she claymed for her syre, Or if that any else did Jove excell: For to the highest she did still aspyre, Or if ought higher were then that, did it desyre.