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Oft did she heave her napkin to her eyne,
Which on it had conceited characters ;
Laundring the silken figures in the brine,
That season'd woe had pelleted in tears ;
And often reading what contents it bears :
As often shrieking undistinguish'd woe,
In clamours of all size, both high and low.
Sometimes her levell’d eyes their carriage ride,
As they did battery to the spheres intend;
Sometimes diverted, their poor balls are ty'd
To th' orbed earth; sometimes they do extend
Their view right on; anon their gazes lend
To every place at once, and no where fix’d,
The mind and sight distractedly commix’d.
Her hair, nor loose nor ty'd in formal plat,
Proclaim'd in her a careless hand of pride;
For some untuck's descended her shav'd bat,
Hanging her pale and pined cheek beside ; .
Some in her threaden fillet still did ?þide,
And true to bondage, would not break from thence,
Tho' slackly braided in loose negligence.
A thousand favours from a maund she drew
Of amber, crystal, and of beaded jet;
Which one by one she in a river threw,
Upon whose weeping margent she was set,
Like usury applying wet to wet;
Or monarch's hands, that let not bounty fall,
Where want cries some, but where excess begs all.
Of folded schedules had she many a one,
Which she perus’d, sigh’d, tore, and gave the flood;
Crack'd many a ring of posied gold and bone,
Bidding them find their sepulchres in mud:
Found yet more letters sadly penn’d in blood,
With sleided silk, feat and affectedly
Enswath'd and seal'd to curious secrecy.
These often bath'd she in her fluxive eyes,
And often kiss'd, and often gave a tear;
Cry'd, 0 false blood! thou register of lies,
What unapproved witness dost him bear!
Ink would have seem'd more black and damned here !
This said, in top of rage the lines she rents,
Big discontent so breaking their contents.
A reverend man, that graz'd his cattle nigh,
Sometime a blusterer, that the ruffle knew
Of court, of city, and had let go by
The swiftest hours observed as they flew;
Towards this afflicted fancy fastly drew :
And, privileg'd by age, desires to know,
In brief, the grounds and motives of her woe.
So slides he down upon his grained bat,
And comely distant sits he by her side;
When he again desires her, being sat,
Her grievance with his hearing to divide;
If that from him there inay be aught apply'd,
Which may her suffering extasy assuage :
'Tis promis’d in the charity of age.
Father, she says, tho' in me you behold
The injury of many a blasting hour,
Let it not tell your judgment I am old;
Not age, but sorrow, over me hath power :
I might as yet have been a spreading flower,
Fresh to myself, if I had self-apply'd
Love to myself, and to no love beside.
But woe is me! too early I attended
A youthful sujt; it was to gain my grace ;
0! one by nature's outwards so commended,
That maiden's eyes stuck over all his face;
Love lack'd a dwelling, and made him her place;
And when in liis fair parts she did abide,
She was new lodg'd, and newly deify'd.
His browny locks did hang in crooked curls,
And every light occasion of the wind
Upon his lips their silken parcels burls.
What's sweet to do, to do will aptly find;
Each eye that saw him did inchant the mind;
For on his visage was in little drawn,
What largeness thinks in Paradise was sawn.
Small shew of man was yet upon his chin,
His phænix down began but to appear,
Like unshorn velvet, on that termless skin,
Whose bare out-bragg’d the web it seem'd to wear;
Yet shey'd his visage by that cost most dear :
And nice affections wavering, stood in doubt
It best 'twere as it was, or best without.
His qualities were beauteous as his form,
For maiden-tongu'd he was, and thereof free:
Yet if men mov'd him, was he such a storm,
As oft 'twixt May and April is to see,
When winds breathe sweet, unruly tho’ they be.
His rudeness so with his authoriz'd youth,
Did livery falseness in a pride of truth.
Well could he ride, and often men would say,
That horse his mettle from his rider takes;
Proud of subjection, noble by the sway,
What rounds, what bounds, what course, what stop he
And controversy hence a question takes, (makes!
Whether the horse by him became his deed,
Or he his, manag'd by th' well-doing steed?
But quickly on this side the verdict went;
His real habitude gave life and grace
To appertainings and to ornament,
Accomplish'd in himself, not in bis case;
All aids themselves made fairer by their place,
Can for additions yet their purpose trim,
Piec'd not his grace, but were all grac'd by him.
So on the tip of his subduing tongue
All kinds of arguments and questions deep,
All replication prompt, and reason strong,
For bis advantage still did wake and sleep,
To make the weeper laugh, the laugher weep,
He had the dialect and different skill,
Catching all passions in his craft of will.
That he did in the general bosom reign
Or young, of old, and sexes both inchanted,
To dwell with him in thoughts, or to remain
In personal duty, following where he haunted;
Consent's bewitched, ere he desire have granted;
And dialogu'd for him what he would say,
Ask'd their own wills, and made their wills obey.
Many there were that did bis picture get,
To serve their eyes, and in it put their mind;
Like fools that in th' imagination set
The goodly objects, which abroad they find,
Of lands and mansions, theirs in thought assign'd;
And labouring, in more pleasures to bestow them,
Then the true gouty landlord, who doth own them.
So many have, that never touch'd his hand,
Sweetly suppos'd them mistress of his heart :
My woful self, that did in freedom stand,
And was my own fee simple, not in part,
What with his art in youth, and youth in art,
Threw my affections in his charmed power,
Reserv'd the stalk, and gave him all my flower.
Yet did I not, as some my equals did,
Demand of him, nor being desir’d, yielded :
Finding myself in honour so forbid,
With safest distance I my honour shielded :
Experience for me many bulwarks builded
Of proofs new bleeding, which remain'd the foil
Of this false jewel, and his amorous spoil.