2101464Poore Instrument (quoth shee) without a sound,

1465Ile tune thy woes with my lamenting tongue,

1466And drop sweet Balme in PRIAMS painted wound,

1467And raile on PIRRHVS that hath done him wrong;

1468And with my tears quench Troy that burns so long;

1469 And with my knife scratch out the angrie eyes,

1470 Of all the Greekes that are thine enemies.

2111471Shew me the strumpet that began this stur,

1472That with my nailes her beautie I may teare:

1473Thy heat of lust fond PARIS did incur

1474This lode of wrath, that burning Troy doth beare;

1475Thy eye kindled the fire that burneth here,

1476 And here in Troy for trespasse of thine eye,

1477 The Sire, the sonne, the Dame and daughter die.

2121478Why should the priuate pleasure of some one

1479Become the publicke plague of manie moe?

1480Let sinne alone committed, light alone

1481Vppon his head that hath transgressed so.

1482Let guiltlesse soules be freed from guilty woe,

1483 For ones offence why should so many fall?

1484 To plague a priuate sinne in generall.