And set his thoughts vpon her wanton lookes,
All noise of warre was husht vpon our coast,
Plentie each where in easefull pride did boast.
19.
The king, who swims in streames of court delights,
Plaies like the fish so long with pleasure’s bait,
That on her deadly bane he often bites,
Or like the mariner infortunate,
Sayling in seas where syrens lie in wait:
To please the sense he lends his eare so long,