Running for life, with hounds pursued sore;
When Hunts-men of her pretious Stones bereaue her
(Which with her teeth sh'had bitten off before):
Restoratiues, and costly curious Felts
Are made of them, and rich imbroydred Belts.
To what vse serues a peece of crimbling Chalke?
The Agget stone is white, yet good for nothing:
Fie, fie, I am asham'd to heare thee talke;
Be not so much of thine owne Image doating:
So faire Narcissus lost his loue and life.