Of Nigrina.

Because Nigrina hath a painted face,
Many suspect her to be light and base:
I see no reason to repute her such,
For out of doubt she will abide the tuch.

To Mira.

Thou fear'st I am in loue with thee (my Deare);
I prethy feare not, It comes with a feare .

Of Bassus.

Eloquent Bassus speakes all with a grace,
Not so much but good morrow, and good night:
I wonder when the Somner did him cite,
For his sweet sinne, how he spake in that case:
I am sure he could with no grace well refuse it
And worse I doubt with any grace excuse it.

Of the same.

Painted Nigrina with the picture face,
Hauing no maske thinks she's without grace,
So with one case she doth another case,
Doth not her maske become her then apace?

Of Nigrina.

Painted Nigrina vnmask'd comes ne're in sight,
Because light wenches care not for the light.

De Ignoto.

Yon fellow thinks mine Epigrams him meane,
Then let me write of euery bawd and queane.

To Mira.

Thou fearst I loue thee, for I prayse thee so:
Should I dispraise thee, what wouldst feare I trow?

Of Drus.

Drus for a Cuckold, and miserable's fam'd,
May not he well a hard-head then be nam'd?

Of Nigrina.

Why should Nigrina weare her mask so much?
Her skins lawn's not so fine, so soone to staine,
Her tendrest poultry may endure the touch,
Her face, face and out-face the wind againe:
The cherry of her lip's a winter Cherry,
Then weather-proof, & needs no masks defence:
Her cheeks best fruit's a black, no Mulberry,
But fearelesse of sharp gustes impouerishments:
And to be briefe, she being all plaine Ione ,

De Ignoto.

There's an odd fellow, (ile not tell his name,
Because from my lines he shal get no fame:)
Reading mine Epigrams bathes euery limb,
In angry sweat swearing that I meane him:
Content thy selfe, I write of better men,
Thou art no worthy subiect for my pen.