1681003Tis not my fault, the Bore prouok't my tong,

1004Be wreak't on him (inuisible commaunder)

1005T'is he foule creature, that hath done thee wrong,

1006I did but act, he's author of thy slaunder.

1007 Greefe hath two tongues, and neuer woman yet,

1008 Could rule them both, without ten womens wit.

1691009Thus hoping that Adonis is aliue,

1010Her rash suspect she doth extenuate,

1011And that his beautie may the better thriue,

1012With death she humbly doth insinuate.

1013 Tels him of trophies, statues, tombes, and stories,

1014 His victories, his triumphs, and his glories.

1701015O Ioue quoth she, how much a foole was I,

1016To be of such a weake and sillie mind,

1017To waile his death who liues, and must not die,

1018Till mutuall ouerthrow of mortall kind?

1019 For he being dead, with him is beautie slaine,

1020 And beautie dead, blacke Chaos comes againe.

1711021Fy, fy, fond loue, thou art as full of feare,

1022As one with treasure laden, hem'd with theeues,

1023Trifles vnwitnessed with eye, or eare,

1024Thy coward heart with false bethinking greeues.

1025 Euen at this word she heares a merry horne,

1026 Whereat she leaps, that was but late forlorne.