O How The Pleasant Ayres Of True Loue Be Infected By Those Vapours Which Arise From Out That Noysome Gulfe, Which Gaping Lies Betweene The Iawes Of Hellish Ielousie! A Monster, Others Harme, Selfe-Miserie, Beauties Plague, Vertues Scourge, Succour Of Lies; Who His Owne Ioy To His Owne Hurt Applies, And Onely Cherish Doth With Iniurie: Who Since He Hath, By Natures Speciall Grace, So Piercing Pawes As Spoyle When They Embrace; So Nimble Feet As Stirre Still, Though On Thornes; So Many Eyes, Ay Seeking Their Owne Woe; So Ample Eares As Neuer Good Newes Know: Is It Not Euill That Such A Deuil Wants Hornes?