The Palace of Pleasure

f honest life? But what desire is this? I haue a certayne vnacquaynted lust, and yet very well know not what it is that moueth me, and to whom I shall vow the spoyle thereof. I am truely more fond and foolyshe than euer Narcissus was, for there is neyther shadow nor voyce, vpon which I can well stay my sight, nor yet simple Imagination of any worldly man, whereuppon I can arrest the conceypt of my vnstayed heart, and the desires which prouoke my mynde. Pygmalion loued once a Marble Piller, and I haue but one desire, the colour whereof is more pale than death. There is nothyng which can geue the same so mutch as one spot of vermilion rud. If I doe discouer these appetites to any wight, perhaps they will mock me for my labor, and for all the beauty and Noble byrth that is in me, they will make no conscience to deeme me for their iesting stock, and to solace themselues with rehersall of my fond conceits. But sith there is no enemy in the field, and that but simple suspicion doth assayle me, why breake