18612961296Her maid is gone, and she prepares to write,

12971297First hovering o'er the paper with her quill.

12981298Conceit and grief an eager combat fight;

12991299What wit sets down is blotted straight with will;

13001300This is too curious-good, this blunt and ill.

13011301Much like a press of people at a door

13021302Throng her inventions, which shall go before.

18713031303At last she thus begins: "Thou worthy lord

13041304Of that unworthy wife that greeteth thee,

13051305Health to thy person. Next, vouchsafe t' afford --

13061306If ever, love, thy Lucrece thou wilt see --

13071307Some present speed to come and visit me.

13081308So I commend me, from our house in grief;

13091309My woes are tedious, though my words are brief."

18813101310Here folds she up the tenor of her woe,

13111311Her certain sorrow writ uncertainly.

13121312By this short schedule Collatine may know

13131313Her grief, but not her grief's true quality.

13141314She dares not thereof make discovery,

13151315Lest he should hold it her own gross abuse,

13161316Ere she with blood had stained her stained excuse.

18913171317Besides, the life and feeling of her passion

13181318She hoards, to spend when he is by to hear her,

13191319When sighs and groans and tears may grace the fashion

13201320Of her disgrace, the better so to clear her

13211321From that suspicion which the world might bear her.

13221322To shun this blot, she would not blot the letter

13231323With words, till action might become them better.

19013241324To see sad sights moves more than hear them told,

13251325For then the eye interprets to the ear

13261326The heavy motion that it doth behold,

13271327When every part a part of woe doth bear.

13281328'Tis but a part of sorrow that we hear:

13291329Deep sounds make lesser noise than shallow fords,

13301330And sorrow ebbs, being blown with wind of words.