This bloud, that cockatrice-like thus thou brood'st,
To dry is to breede any quench to thine.
And therefore now (if onely for thy lust
A little cover'd with a vaile of shame)30
Looke out for fresh life, rather then witch-like
Learne to kisse horror, and with death engender.
Strange crosse in nature, purest virgine shame
Lies in the bloud as lust lyes; and together
Many times mixe too; and in none more shamefull35
Then in the shamefac't. Who can then distinguish