You Rebell runnaway, to Lord and Lady untrue,
You Witch, you Divel (alas) you still in me beloved,
You see what I can say: mend yet your froward minde,
And such skill in my Muse you reconcil’d shall finde,
That by these cruell words your praises shal be proved.
The Sixth Sonnet.
O You that heare this voice,
O you that see this face,
Say whether of the choice,