XLI.

Is it her nature, or is it her will, To be so cruell to an humbled foe? If nature, then she may it mend with skill; If will, then she at will may will forgoe. But if her nature and her will be so, That she will plague the man that loves her most, And take delight t’encrease a wretches woe, Then all her natures goodly guifts are lost; And that same glorious beauties ydle boast Is but a bayt such wretches to beguile, As, being long in her loves tempest tost, She meanes at last to make her pitious spoyle. O fayrest fayre! let never it be named, That so fayre beauty was so fowly shamed.