Three times, by stumbling, _Myrha_ was fore-told Of bad successe, if she did not retire; Three times the Owles like lessons did vnfold, Whose dolefull note do foule mishap require; Yet she crept on, regarding not the same, The want of light alayed much the shame. The Nurse doth lead her by her owne left hand, The right doth grope the dark and desart way, As silent as the night they now do stand To heare the night-crows scrik, & goblins play The lich-foule beats, and at the window cries, For to come in, to stay the enterprise. O gentle Nurse, said _Myrha_ tell to me, What may these scremes & doleful scriks portend, The nurse reply'd, my child, no hurt to thee, They are but servants that on night attend, These goblins, lich-fouls, Owls, & night-crows to At murthers raile, with loue haue naught to do. And then the Beldam leads the Lady on Through many roomes & other turning waies As in a laborinth they two had gone; And as they go, she to the Lady saies; Now cheere you vp, and get a iocund minde In thinking of the pleasures you shall finde. At last shee brings her to the chamber dore Which softly she did ope, and led her in, The Lady fals to trembling more and more, Her very heart did to relent begin, The neerer to the wickednesse she went, The more to quake and shiuer shee was bent. Looke how you see a blind man on the way Led by another through some desart place, Stagger and grope and at each trifle stay For feare least he should fall: euen in like case, The wretched nurse the fearefull Lady leads, Who shakes and starts at euery step she treads. And now she doth her enterprise repent, And wish she might vnknowne returne againe, Vnto his bed the pawsing Nurse then went; And cal'd the King & told him thus much plaine Dread King awake, of pleasures take thy fill, This Ladie's thine, then vse her as you will. The cursed father then his bowels takes Into his bed, o filthy blob and staine, His daughter shiuers in his armes, and quakes, This being done, the nurse returnes againe And said, make much of her, to weepe forbeare None wold weepe for that which you now feare. The King then cheeres his daughter, in his arme, Why dost thou weep? be still my sweete, be stil, Come clip thy loue I meane to do no harme, My Kingly bed with pleasures shall thee fill, And to hide all that idle heads may moue, Hence-forth I call thee daughter and not loue. Come kisse thy father, gentle daughter then, _A_nd learne to sport thee in a wanton bed; Is this the tricks (she softly said) of men? And counterfeiting speech vnknowne, she said, A daughters name, me thinkes, doth not agree, Ist well with your owne child in loue to be?