bletch

so climbeth Tamora
mount olympus top
free from fourtions shot
and sits aloft
secure of thunder crack or lighting flash
advance above pale envy's threating reach
as when the golden sun salutes the mourn
and having guilt the ocean with its beams
gallops the zodiac in his glisteing coach
and surveys the hightest peering hill
so, Tamora
upon her wit doth earthly pleasuer wait
and fourtion, stoops and trembles at her frown
and arron, arm thy thoughts and wit to mount thine imperial misstres, who in triumph long hast thought been helf prisioner, fetterd in amorous chains.
Away with slavish weeds and sevile thoughts
I will be bright and shine in pearl and gold
to wait upon this new made empress
To wait said I?
To wanton this queen this goddess, this semiramis, this nymph this siren that will charm romes saternine to see his shipwreck and common wheel