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 | A sick man in sadness makes his will, A word ill urged to one that is so ill. In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman. | |
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| I aimed so near when I supposed you loved. | |
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| A right good markman! And shes fair I love. | |
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| A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. | |
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| Well, in that hit you miss. Shell not be hit With Cupids arrow. She hath Dians wit. And, in strong proof of chastity well armed From loves weak childish bow, she lives uncharmed. She will not stay the siege of loving terms, Nor bide th' encounter of assailing eyes, Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold. Oh, she is rich in beauty, only poor That when she dies, with beauty dies her store. | |
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| Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste? | |
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