Then in a rich imbroidred bed of downe, Pluck't from the c[=o]stant Turtles fethered breast, Vpon her head he set imperiall crowne, And to her goes: Now is his soule at rest. This night he counts the end of his renowne, The sence of feeling, she feeles by his power, And like a subiect yeelds to his request, Whilest _Mahomet_ a virgin doth deflower. 80 Now feares this flower deflowr'd his loue will waine, Wishing the lustfull act had bin vndoon, The pleasure cannot counteruaile the paine, For still she thinkes with torment ioy is woon, His loue growes full, she gets it now with gaine: He like a ring of gold insets his iewell, But fearing of his force she should disdaine, Till sighes and kisses did inflame Loues fewell. 81 Then like the God of Warre, caught in a net, He twin'd his _Venus_, danger was not nigh, And as a Diamond compar'd with Iet, So show'd her sparkling eye against his eye. The sunne-gaz'd Eagle now this done doth get, And gently gripes her, hurting not his pray, She sounds with pleasure, second sweets are high And wishes _Phoebus_ blinde all night, no day. 82 The red-cheek't morning opens now her gate, And busie day breathes life into the world, The heauens great coachman mounted is in state, And darknesse from the aire to hell is hurld. Now pleasures king by day light sees his mate, Whil'st she lay blushing like the damaske rose, His ietty haire she with her fingers curld, He hug'd her fast, least he his ioyes should lose. 83 Her sight begot in him a new desire, For that is restlesse alwaies in extreames, Nought but saciety can quench loues fire. Now throgh the christal casem[=e]t _Phoebus_ beames Dazled those twinckling starres that did aspire, To gaze vpon his brightnesse being a louer. Tasting her petulans in waking dreames, To hide her from the sunne, he doth her couer. 84 Then sweet breath'd musicke, like the chime of spheares, Did rauish pleasure, till this paire did rise: More wonder then that sound was to men eares Was her rare beauty to the gazers eyes. Ioy was so violent, the rockes it teares, The noise and triumphs beates vpon the aire, And like ambition pierceth through the skies, That _Ioue_ loo'kt downe on her that was so rare. 85 Thus _Mahomet_ both day and night doth spend, In obseruation of her eyes and pleasure, Growing so iealous, least he should offend, His soules perfection, natures vnspent treasure. If she but speake to him, he low doth bend, And such a seruitude he doth discouer. Neglecting of himselfe in that grosse measure, That _Hiren_ clips her slaue, no Emperour. 86