No vertue merits praise, once toucht with blot of Treason.
12 But valiant Rebels oft in fooles mouthes purchase fame,
I now then staine thy white with blackest blot of shame,
Both Rebel to the Sonne, and vagrant from the Mother,
For wearing Venus badge, in every part of thee,
Unto Dianaes traine thou runnaway didst flie:
Who faileth one is false, though trustie to another.
13 What is not this enough, nay farre worse commeth here:
A Witch I say thou art, though thou so faire appeare.
For I protest, mine eyes never thy sight enjoyeth,