There’s a lie on thy cheek in its roses,
A lie echoed back by thy glass.
Thy necklace on greenhorns imposes,
And the ring on thy finger is brass.
Yet thy tongue, I affirm, without giving an inch back,
Outdoes the sham jewels, rouge, mirror, and pinchbeck.
Johannes Secundus
ON CHARINUS, THE HUSBAND OF AN UGLY WIFE
Your wife’s possest of such a face and mind,
So charming that, and this so soft and kind,
So smooth her forehead, and her voice so sweet,