In story, did but the dull Zanye play,
To this proud night; which rather wee'le terme day:
For th'artificiall lights so thicke were set,
That bright Sun seem'd this to counterfeit
But seven (whom whether we should Sages call
Or deadly sinnes, Ile not dispute) were all
Invited to this pompe. And yet I dare
Pawne my lov'd Muse, th' Hungarian did prepare
Not halfe that quantity of victuall, when
He layd his happy siege to Nortlinghen.