5. Sonnets in praise of Eminency or a publike Life, 9

SWeet Beauty beare this bitterest abuse:
If thou abuse thy selfe, why should not he?
Of whom thou hast, in this Tract, made good vse
(In gaudiest Colours) by out-painting Thee.
Thou canst not hurt me more then by thy Looks
Then thy good Looks I need not much to waigh:
My fight thy Back, then Forepart better brooks:
Then, when thou seest me turne some other way:
Vnto mine Eyes thou art a Cockatrice,
Who dost infuse, through them, into my Hart,
The vertue of thy powr, which doth (like Vice)
Wholy confound my single-double Part:
Then, if thou wilt damnme for myne offence
Look well on me, to plague my Soule, and Sence.