Their thronging multitudes: their gladsome cries,
Their gleeful hymnes, whiles piles of incense burne:
Their publique shewes, kept at solemnities:
We passe: and tell how King and Queene did meet,
Where he with zeale, she him with guile did greet.
He (noble Lord) fearelesse of hidden treason,
Sweetely salutes this weeping Crocodile:
Excusing euery cause with instant reason
That kept him from her sight so long a while:
She, faintly pardons him; smiling by Art: