As virtue shineth most in comeliest wights,
When inward gifts are deck’d with outward grace,
So did his wit and feature feed that hope,
Which falsely train’d me to this woful hap.
His mind transformed thus, I cannot choose
But long to see what change his face sustains.
My blood and kindred, doubled in his birth,
Inspires a mix’d and twice-descending love,
Which drives my dying veins to wish his view.
Unhelm his luckless head, set bare his face,