will sparkell.

_Char_. Why, theres a hande that aunswers to hys foote!

_Fue_. I & a true one toe, or bourne it ells.

_Char_. A legge and necke of one cyrcompherence,
A waste that is no hygher then hys thye,
And all parts ells of stronge proportyon.
I am inchaunted with thys vyssyon.

_Did_.--In hells name what behould's hys majestie
To doate uppon thys rascall!

_Fue_. It was a scurvye thynge in nature that she did not tourne mans
eies inwarde. Why, had I seene as much as the emperoure I myghte have
been a monarke by thys time. I will growe proude.

_Char_. O thou the onlye sweetnes of my soule,
Give me but leave to touche thee, let my hand
(Chast loves most bashful messenger) presume
[To stro]ake theise flowers that in thy lovelie [chee]kes
Flouryshe like somer garlands. In soothe my soule
Loves thee beyond relatyon; for thee I doate
And dye in thyne affectyon. Come, Ile make
Thee greater then all _Fraunce_, above the peres,
The proudest he that breathes shall thynke hym blest
To do thee servyce, and esteeme it heaven
To be thyne ape in imytatyon.