Phero.
VRge me no more Graphina to forsake,
Not twelue howers since I married her for loue:
And doe you thinke a sisters power cane mak
A resolute decree, so soone remoue?
Salome.
Poore minds they are that honour not affects.
Phero:
Who hunts for honour, happines neglects.
Salom.
You might haue bene both of felicitie,
And honour too in equall measure seasde.
Phero:
It is not you can tell so well as I,
What can make me happie, or displeasde.
Salome.
To match for neither beautie nor respects
One meane of birth, but yet of meaner minde,
A woman full of naturall defects,
I wonder what your eye in her could finde.
Phero:
Mine eye found louelines, mine eare found wit,
To please the one, and to enchant the other:
Grace on her eye, mirth on her tongue sit,
In lookes a child, in wisedomes house a mother.
Salom:
But say you thought her faire, as none thinks else,
Knowes not Pheroras, beautie is a blast:
Much like this flower which to day excels,
But longer then a day it will not last.
Phero:
Her wit exceeds her beautie,
Salo:
Wit may show
The way to ill, as well as good you know.
Phero:
But wisedome is the porter of her head,
A[…]d b[…]res all wicked words from issuing .
Sal.
But of a porter, better were yo[…] sped,
If she against their entrance made defence.
Phero.
But comes the sacred Ananell,
That hitherward his hastie steppes bend?
Great sacrificer y'are arriued well,
Ill newes from holy mouth I not attend.