Thus by inchaunting spells I doo deceive
Those that behold and looke upon my face; 325
But well may I bid youthfull yeares adue.
Enter Delya with a pot in hir hand.
See where she coms from whence my sorrows grow.
How now, faire Delya, where have you bin?
Delya. At the foote of the rocke for running water, and gathering rootes for your dinner, sir. 330
Sacr. Ah, Delya, fairer art thou than the running water, yet harder farre than steele or adamant.
Delya. Will it please you to sit downe, sir?
Sacr. I, Delya, sit & aske me what thou wilt; thou shalt have it brought into thy lappe. 335