108643Did
st thou not marke my face, was it not white?
644Sawe
st thou not
signes of feare lurke in mine eye?
645Grew I not faint, and fell I not downe right?
646Within my bo
some whereon thou doe
st lye,
647 My boding heart, pants, beats, and takes no re
st,
648 But like an earthquake,
shakes thee on my bre
st.
109649For where loue raignes, di
sturbing iealou
sie,
650Doth call him
selfe a
ffe
ctions centinell,
651Giues fal
se alarmes,
sugge
steth mutinie,
652And in a peacefull houre doth crie, kill, kill,
653 Di
stempring gentle loue in his de
sire,
654 As aire, and water do abate the
fire.
110655This
sower informer, this bate-breeding
spie,
656This canker that eates vp loues tender
spring,
657This carry-tale, di
ssentious iealou
sie,
658That
somtime true newes,
somtime fal
se doth bring,
659 Knocks at my heart, and whi
spers in mine eare,
660 That if I loue thee, I thy death
should feare.
111661And more then
so, pre
senteth to mine eye,
662The pi
cture of an angrie cha
fing boare,
663Vnder who
se
sharpe fangs, on his backe doth lye,
664An image like thy
selfe, all
staynd with goare,
665 Who
se blood vpon the fre
sh flowers being
shed,
666 Doth make thē droop with grief, & hang the hed.
what