With one sweet drop of sensuall delight,[619]
So easie is, t’appease the stormie wind
Of malice in the calme of pleasant womankind.
Diuerse discourses in their way they spent, ix
Mongst which Cymochles of her questioned,
Both what she was, and what that vsage ment,
Which in her cot she daily practised.
Vaine man (said she) that wouldest be reckoned
A straunger in thy home, and ignoraunt
Of Phædria (for so my name is red)