Astrophil and Stella, Sonnet 73

Love still a boy, and oft a wanton is,
Schooled only by his mother’s tender eye;
What wonder then if he his lesson miss,
When for so soft a rod dear play he try?
      And yet my star, because a sugared kiss
In sport I sucked, while she asleep did lie,
Doth lour, nay chide, nay threat, for only this.
Sweet, it was saucy Love, not humble I.
      But no ‘scuse serves, she makes her wrath appear
      In Beauty’s throne; see now, who dares come near
Those scarlet judges, threatening bloody pain?
      O heavenly fool, thy most kiss-worthy face
      Anger invests with such a lovely grace
That anger’s self I needs must kiss again.