In my franke brest by nature too too kind,
A cunning way to catch me he did find:
Into the best minds pliable to good,
Deceit soone enters maskt in truth’s plaine hood.
79.
His queene, a woman sweetly tongu’d and faire,
By whom the king at his desire did aime,
With speech so affable did so insnare
My princely pliant thoughts, that in the same,
She could impresse, what forme she pleas’d to frame: