As I by yours , y'haue past a hell of Time, And I a tyrant haue no leasure taken To waigh how once I suffered in your crime. O that our night of wo might haue remembred My deepest sence,how hard true sorrow hits, And soone to you,as you to me then tendred The humble salue,which wounded bosomes fits!    But that your trespasse now becomes a fee,    Mine ransoms yours,and yours must ransome mee. 121

T IS better to be vile then vile esteemed, When not to be,receiues reproach of being,

And the iust pleasure lost,which is so deemed, Not by our feeling,but by others seeing. For why should others false adulterat eyes Giue saluation to my sportiue blood? Or on my frailties why are frailer spies; Which in their wils count bad what I think good? Noe,I am that I am,and they that leuell At my abuses,reckon vp their owne, I may be straight though they them-selues be beuel By their rancke thoughtes,my deedes must not be shown    Vnlesse this general euill they maintaine,    All men are bad and in their badnesse raigne. 122.

T Thy guift,,thy tables,are within my braine Full characterd with lasting memory,

Which shall aboue that idle rancke remaine Beyond all date euen to eternity. Or at the least,so long as braine and heart Haue facultie by nature to subsist, Til each to raz'd obliuion yeeld his part Of thee,thy record neuer can be mist: That poore retention could not so much hold, Nor need I tallies thy deare loue to skore, Therefore to giue them from me was I bold,

H 2 To