¶The deepe vexation of his inward
soule,
1780Hath
seru'd a dumbe arre
st vpon his tongue,
¶VVho mad that
sorrow
should his v
se controll,
¶Or keepe him from heart-ea
sing words
so long,
¶Begins to talke, but through his lips do throng
¶_VVeake words,
so thick come in his poor harts aid,
1785_That no man could di
stingui
sh what he
said.
¶Yet
sometime
TARQVIN was pronounced plaine,
¶But through his teeth, as if the name he tore,
¶This windie tempe
st, till it blow vp raine,
¶Held backe his
sorrowes tide, to make it more.
1790At la
st it raines, and bu
sie windes giue ore,
¶_Then
sonne and father weep with equall
strife,
¶_VVho
shuld weep mo
st for daughter or for wife.
¶The one doth call her his, the other his,
¶Yet neither may po
sse
sse the claime they lay.
1795The father
saies,
shee's mine, ô mine
shee is
¶Replies her husband, do not take away
¶My
sorrowes intere
st, let no mourner
say
¶_He weepes for her, for
shee was onely mine,
¶_And onelie mu
st be wayl'd by
COLATINE.