LX.
[Was euer man, whose Loue was like to mine?]
The Authour groundeth this Passion vpon three poyntes. In
the first, he sheweth howe he witting and wilfully followeth
his owne hurt, with such like words as Medæa sometime vsed,
Video meliora, proboque,
Deteriora sequor, &c.
In the second, he excuseth his fault vpon the maine force
and tyrannie of Loue, being the onely gouernour of his wil.
And lastly, he humbly entreateth his Lady for the restitution
of his wonted libertie: desiring her not to exact more
of him, then his abilitie of bodie or mind can well susteine,
according to the olde verse,
Pelle magis rabida nihil est de Vulpe petendum.
Was
euer man, whose Loue was like to mine?
I follow still the cause of my distresse,
My Hart foreseeing hurte, doth yet encline
To seeke the same, and thinkes the harme the lesse.
In doing thus, you aske me what I ayle:
Against maine force what reason can preuaile?
Loue is the Lord and Signor of my will,
How shall I then dispose of any deede?
By forced Bond, he holdes my freedome still,
He duls each sense, and makes my hart to bleede.
Thou Sacred Nimph, whose vertue wanteth staine,
Agree with Loue, and set me free againe.
Of this my weary Life no day shall fall,
Wherein my penne shall once thy praise forget:
No Night with sleepe shall close mine eyes at all,
Before I make recount of such a debt;
Then force me not to more then well I may,
Besides his Skinne, the Fox hath nought to pay.
