Who now would thinke that she should euer find
A hopefull helpe her weaknesse to repaire?
Bewitching beautie, O how dost thou blind
The eyes of man! thy soule is deemed faire,
Thy euill good, thy vice a vertue rare:
In thy distresse although thy cause be wrong,
Thou mou’st remorse and mak’st thy partie strong.
93.
Those yonger bloods, Arthois and Beaumont,
Without respect vnto her cause’s right,