3620And then again, as if your tongues made laws,
You weary time with your eternal chat.
Ah Mantuan! [Mantuan!] thy pen is not a liar,
Although thy habit says thou wert a friar.
Erstwhile a sober nun Bellama was,
Then a Lucretia, at another gale
I know not what, a straggling country lass,
A quinque-lettered, 'haps, which set to sale,
Now, none more willing unto love than she,
And now more further off from love or me.