To his wife, in excuse he had call'd her foole in his writing

A Man in show that scornes, in deede enuies
Thy feruent loue, and seeks the same to coole.
Findes fault, that in a Verse I call'd thee Foole:
And that it could be kindly tane, denies.
But thou didst kindly take it, then he lyes.
Well, therefore I wish him a wife most wise,
Noble descended from great De la Poole:
Learn'd to set her husband still to schoole,
So faire to draw to her all amorous eyes.
Let flattering tongues protest she doth deserue,
That great Commanders her should sue to serue:
Then let him walke and with Acteons lucke,
Amid the Herd, say, Welcome, fellow Bucke.
Meane while, my Mall, thinke thou 'tis honorable
To be my Foole, and I to be thy Bable.