_Now the lusty Spring is seen,_ _Golden yellow, gaudy Blew,_ _Daintily invite the view._ _Every where, on every Green,_ _Roses blushing as they blow,_ _And inticing men to pull,_ _Lillies whiter than the snow,_ _Woodbines of sweet hony full._ _All Loves Emblems and all cry,_ _Ladys, if not pluckt we dye._ _Yet the lusty Spring hath staid,_ _Blushing red and purest white,_ _Daintily to love invite,_ _Every Woman, every Maid,_ _Cherries kissing as they grow;_ _And inviting men to taste,_ _Apples even ripe below,_ _Winding gently to the waste:_ _All loves emblems and all cry,_ _Ladies, if not pluckt we dye._ SECOND. _Hear ye Ladies that despise_ _What the mighty Love has done,_ _Fear examples, and be wise,_ _Fair_ Calisto _was a Nun,_ Læda _sailing on the stream,_ _To deceive the hopes of man,_ _Love accounting but a dream,_ _Doted on a silver Swan,_ Danae _in a Brazen Tower,_ _Where no love was, lov'd a Showr._ _Hear ye Ladys that are coy,_ _What the mighty Love can do,_ _Fear the fierceness of the Boy,_ _The chaste Moon he makes to wooe:_ Vesta _kindling holy fires,_ _Circled round about with spies,_ _Never dreaming loose desires,_ _Doting at the Altar dies._ Ilion _in a short hour higher_ _He can build, and once more fire._ _Enter_ Chilax, Lucina, Claudia, _and_ Marcellina. _Luci._ Pray Heaven my Lord be here, for now I fear it. Well Ring, if thou bee'st counterfeit, or stoln, As by this preparation I suspect it, Thou hast betrai'd thy Mistris: pray Sir forward, I would fain see my Lord. _Chil._ But tell me _Madam_, How do ye like the Song? _Luci._ I like the air well, But for the words, they are lascivious, And over light for Ladies. _Chil._ All ours love 'em. _Luci._ 'Tis like enough, for yours are loving Ladies. _Lici._ _Madam_, ye are welcom to the Court. Who waits? Attendants for this Lady. _Luci._ Ye mistake Sir; I bring no triumph with me. _Lici._ But much honour. _Pro._ Why this was nobly done; and like a neighbour, So freely of your self to be a visitant, The Emperour shall give ye thanks for this. _Luci._ O no Sir; There's nothing to deserve 'em. _Pro._ Yes, your presence. _Luci._ Good Gentlemen be patient, and believe I come to see my husband, on command too, I were no Courtier else. _Lici._ That's all one Lady, Now ye are here, y'are welcom, and the Emperour Who loves ye, but too well. _Luci._ No more of that Sir. I came not to be Catechiz'd.