University of Virginia Library

[Unto the Caytiff wretche whome long affliction holdeth]

Unto the Caytiff wretche whome long affliction holdeth;
And now fully beleeves help to bee quyte perisshed.
Graunt yet graunt yet a looke to the last monument of his anguish.
O, yow (alas so I fynde) Cause of his onely Rewyn.
Dread not a whitt (o goodly crewell) that pitty may enter,
Into thy hart by the sighte of this Epistle I sende.
And so refuse to beholde of these straunge woundes the Recitall,
Least yt might thee allure home to thy self to returne,
(Unto thyself I do meane those graces dwell so within thee,
Gratefullnes, sweetenes, Holylove, Harty regarde,)
Suche thinge can not I seeke, Dispayre hathe given mee my answer,
Despayre, moste tragicall Clause to a Deadly Request.
Suche thinge can not hee hope that knowes thy determinate hardnes,
Hard lyfe, a Riche Marble, hard, (but a fayre) Dyamond.
Can those eyes (that of eyes drownde in moste harty flowing teares,
Teares and Teares of a man had no returne to remorse,)
Can those eyes now yeelde to the kynde Conceypt of a Sorowe?
Whiche Inck onely Relates, but ne lamentes, ne Replyes,
Ah that I do not Conceyve, though that to mee Leefe were
More then Nestors yeares, more then a Kinges Dyadem.
Ah that I do not conceyve to the Heaven when a Mowse clymes
Then may I hope to atcheeve grace of a Heavenly Tygre.
But but alas like a Man Condempned dothe crave to bee heard speake,
Not that hee hopes for amendes of the Disaster hee feeles.
But, fynding thapproche of Deathe with an Inly relenting,
Gives an Adieu to the worlde, as to his onely delighte.
Right so my boyling harte enflamed wth fyre of a fayre eye,
Bubbling oute dothe breathe signes of his huge doloures
Nowe that hee fyndes to what ende his lyfe and love bee reserved
And that hee hence must parte, where, to Live, onely I lived,
O fayre, O fayrest, are suche the Tryumphes to thy fayrenes?
Can Deathe Bewty become? must I bee suche Monument?
Must I bee onely the Marck shall proove that Vertue ys angry?
Shall prove the fiercenes can with a white Dove abyde?
Shall to the worlde appeare, that faythe and Love bee Rewarded?
With mortall disdayne bent to unendly Revenge?
Unto Revenge, O sweete, on a wretch wilt thow bee Revenged,
As the offence ys done? and goo beyonde, yf hee can,
All my offence was Love, with Love then must I bee chastened,
And with more by the Lawes that to revenge do belonge.
Yf that Love bee a faulte, more faulte in yow to bee Lovely,
Love never had mee opprest, but that I sawe to bee Loved,
Yow bee the Cause that I love, what reason blameth a shadowe?
That with a Body yt goes, synce by a Body yt ys?
Yf the Love hate yow did, yow shoulde youre Beuty have hidden,
Yow shoulde those fayre eyes have wth a vayle covered.
But, Foole, Foole that I am, those eyes wolde shyne from a dark Cave?
What vailes then do prevayle, but to a more Mirackle?
Or those golden Lockes (those Lockes wch lock mee to bondage,
Torne), yow shoulde disperse unto the blastes of a wynde,
But, Foole, Foole that I am, tho I had but a hayer of her hed founde,
Eeven as I am, so I shoulde, unto that hayer bee a thrall,
Or with a fayre handes nayles (Oh hande wch nayles mee to deathe)
Yow shoulde have youre face (synce Love ys evell) blemysshed.
O, wretche, what did I say, shoulde that fayre face bee defaced?
Shoulde my too muche sight cause so true a Sunn̄ to bee lost?
First let Cymmerian Darcknes bee my only habitation,
First bee myne Eyes pulde oute, first bee my brayne perished
Ere I shoulde consent to doo suche excessive a Damage,
Unto the Earthe by the hurt of this her heavenly evell.
Oh, not. But suche Love yow say yow coulde have afforded,
As mighte learne Temperance voyde of outragius eventes
O sweete Simplicity, from whence shoulde Love bee so learned?
Unto Cupide that Boy shoulde a pendaunt bee founde?
Well, but faulty I was reason to my passyon yeelded,
Passyon unto my Rage, Rage to a hasty Revenge?
But, whatts this for a fault? for wch such faithe bee abolished?
Suche faythe so stayneless Inviolate, violent.
Shall I not Oh may I not thus yet refresh the Remembrance?
What sweete Joyes I had once, and what a place I did holde?
Shall I not once object that, yow, yow graunted a favoure?
Unto the Man whome now suche myseryes yow awarde?
Bende youre thoughtes to the Dere sweete wordes wch then to mee given were.
Thincke what a worlde ys now, thinck who hathe altered her hart.
What? was I then worthy of suche good? now worthy somuche evell?
Now fledd, then cherished, then so nye, now so remote?
Did not a Rosed Breathe from Lippes more Rosy proceeding,
Say, that I well shoulde fynde in what a Care I was hadd?
With muche more: Now, what do I fynde, but Care to abhorr mee?
Care, that I sinck in greef, Care, that I live banisshed.
And banisshed, doo I live? nor nowe wee seeke a Recovery,
Synce so shee will whose will ys to mee more then a Lawe,
Yf then a Man in moste evell Case may give yow a farewell,
Farewell, longe Farewell all my wooe all my Delighte.