...his love of myne. No wyght dooth better know than I The powre of herbes, whoo late ago transformed was therby. And now to open unto thee of this my greef the ground, Uppon th'Italyan shore ageinst Messene walls I found Fayre Scylla. Shame it is to tell how scornfull shee did take The gentle woordes and promises and sute that I did make. But if that any powre at all consist in charmes, then l...