1 Kinge. His superficiall beames sun-burn't our skin;75
2 Kinge. But left within
3 Kinge. The Night and Winter still of Death and Sin.
Chorus. Thy softer yet more certaine darts
Spare our eyes, but peirce our harts:
1 Kinge. Therfore with his proud Persian spoiles80
2 Kinge. We court Thy more concerning smiles.
3 Kinge. Therfore with his disgrace
We guild the humble cheek of this chast place;
Chorus. And at Thy feet powr forth his face.
1 Kinge. The doating Nations now no more85
Shall any day but Thine adore.
2 Kinge. Nor—much lesse—shall they leaue these eyes
For cheap Ægyptian deityes.