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Willobie His Avisa

Or The true Picture of a modest Maid, and of a chast and constant wife. In Hexamiter verse. The like argument wherof, was neuer heretofore published [by Henry Willoby]
  

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CANT. XLI.

Auisa her answere to D. H. a finall resolution.

If I be of Diana's trayne,
As trewe it is I must confesse,
I meruaile that you striue in vayne,
Where frutelesse hope yeelds no redresse:
For they must needes continue sad
That seeke for that, will not be had.
What seruile follie doth possesse
Your base conceite, that can abyde
Such piteous plaintes, and sutes addresse,
To them that do your sutes deryde?
For I can hardly thinke them wyse,
That try againe, repulsed thryse.
No Hellens rape, nor Troian warre,
My louing mate hath fors't away,
No Iunoes wrath, to wander farre,
From louing bed can make him stray,
Nor stay at all in forraine land,
But here I haue him still at hand.

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My sweet Vlisses neuer stayes
From his desyred home so long,
That I should need such rare delayes
To Shield me from intended wrong,
My chiefe delightes are alwayes nye,
And in my bosome sweetely lye.
The Spindle that you see me driue,
Hath fyld the spill so often trend,
My hartis fixt, since I did giue
My wedlocke faith to chosen frend,
Then leaue to sewe, since that you see
Your hap debarres your hope from mee.
I vse not oft to make reply
To lines that yeelde such wanton store,
Let this suffice, that I deny,
And after this, looke for no more,
My choise is bound, by lawfull band,
My oath is past, and that shall stand.
Alway the same Auisa.