Iane

Belieue you haue, and t'is enough they say, But you and I agree not in a mynde, I read in storyes men will run astray, Yet make their foolish wiues beleeue th'are kind: And therefore since they are so cunning knowne He keepe my selfe a maide and trust to none.

Had I one sutor swore himselfe loue-sicke, Another for his Mistris sake would die, A third thorow Cupids power growne lunaticke, A fourth that languishing past hope did lye: And so fift, sixt, and seauenth in loues passion, My Maiden-head for them should ner'e change fashion.

Aeneas told many a cogging tale, To Dido that renowned worthy Queene, And Iason with his flatterings did preuaile, Yet falser knaues in loue were neuer seene: And at this instant hower, as they were then, The world aboundeth with deceitfull men.