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Elegia. 4. To the prisoners.

Cvpid hath swelde my stomacke, with
On such a sacred poyson,
And I am in Queene Venus fet-
ters, so well entertained:


That lyke a captiue, languishing,
And with dolour, tormented,
I thinke my selfe well happy, to
Be in a Womans prison.
Now? As for you wretches that no-
thing, but yrons can punishe,
If you lyst you may haue a hope,
to be at lyber-tie:
But as for mee? I tell you, I'll
die in captiui-tie:
Consuming heere in the quicke-sil-
uer-fayre-eyes of my Goddesse,
And well I am contented in-
deede, with her extreeme rigore.
Swearing, that I neuer fell in
My soule so great a dolore,
As when I thinke for her likewise,
Some other should haue passion.
And with all this too, yet I haue
Neither lost all my iudgement:
For we saye that man is happy,
onelie, that is well content,
And I tell you, (you wretches) it
is all my contentation.