Did you not see, Castara, when the King
Met his lov'd Queene; what sweetnesse she did bring
T' incounter his brave heat; how great a flame
From their brests meeting, on the sudden came?
The Stoike, who all easie passion flies,
Could he but heare the language of their eyes,
As heresies would from his faith remove
The tenets of his sect, and practise love.
The barb'rous nations which supply the earth
With a promiscuous and ignoble birth,