Where two long loves and lives in joy alone:
They sing at will the treble or the meane,
Where musicke wants the mirth not worth a beane:
The king and I agreed in such concorde,
I rul’d by love, though he did raigne a lord.
32.
I ioynde my talke, my iestures, and my grace,
In witty frames, that long might last and stand,
So that I brought the king in such a case,
That to his death I was his chiefest hand: