To feed, and clothe thee? Why should the poor be

flatter'd? No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp; And crook the pregnant* hinges of the knee, Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear? Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice, And could of men distinguish her election, She hath seal'd thee for herself: for thou hast been As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing; A man, that fortune's buffets and rewards Hast ta'en with equal thanks: and bless'd are those Whose blood and judgment are so well co-mingled, That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please : Give me that man, That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, As I do thee.

36-iii. 2.

36 How his audit stands, who knows, save Heaven? But, in our circumstance and course of thought, 'Tis heavy with him.

36-iii. 3. 37

Your constancy Hath left you unattended.

15mii. 2.

38
If you suspect my husbandry, or falsehood,
Call me before the exactest auditors,
And set me on the proof

...
When all our officest have been oppress'd
With riotous feeders; when our vaults have wept
With drunken spilth of wine ; when every room
Hath blazed with lights, and bray'd with minstrelsy ;
I have retired me to a wasteful cock,
And set mine eyes at flow.

27-ii. 2. 39

I would, I could Quit all offences with as clear excuse,

As well as, I am doubtless, I can purge
Myself of many I am charged withal:
Yet such extenuation let me beg,
As, in reproof of many tales devised,
By smiling pick-thanks* and base newsmongers,
I may, for some things true, wherein my youth
Hath faulty wander'd and irregular,
Find pardon on my true submission. 18-jii. 2.

40
They answer, in a joint and corporate voice,
That now they are at fall, † want treasure, cannot
Do what they would; are sorry—you are honourable,
But yet they could have wish’d—they know not-but
Something hath been amiss—a noble nature
May catch a wrench-would all were well—'tis pity-
And so, intendings other serious matters,
After distasteful looks, and these hard fractions,
With certain half-caps,|| and cold-moving nods,
They froze me into silence.

27-ii. 2.

41
I can no other answer make, but, thanks,
And thanks, and ever thanks : Often good turns
Are shuffled off with such uncurrent pay :
But, were my worth, T as is my conscience, firm,
You should find better dealing.

4-ü. 3. 42 You are liberal in offers ; You taught me first to beg; and now, methinks, You teach me how a beggar should be answer’d.

9-iv. 1.

43 By the pattern of mine own thoughts I cut out The purity of his.

45 O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown! The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword : The expectancy and rose of the fair state, The glass of fashion, and the mould* of form, The observed of all observers ! quite, quite down! And I, of ladies most deject and wretched, That suck'd the honey of his music vows, Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh; That unmatch'd form and feature of blown youth, Blasted with ecstasy.t

36-iii. 1.

46
What, are my doors opposed against my passage?
Have I been ever free, and must my house
Be my retentive enemy, my gaol ?
The place, which I have feasted, does

now, Like all mankind, show me an iron heart? 27-iii. 4.

47 Sick in the world's regard, wretched and low.

18-iv. 3. 48

O, sick to death :
My legs, like loaden branches, bow to the earth,
Willing to leave their burden.

25-iv. 2.

49 I

may be negligent, foolish, and fearful;
In every one of these no man is free,
But that his negligence, his folly, fear,
Amongst the infinite doings of the world,
Sometimes puts forth : In your affairs,
If ever I were wilful negligent,
It was my folly: if industriously,
I play'd the fool, it was my negligence,
Not weighing well the end ; if ever fearful
To do a thing, where I the issue doubted,
Whereof the execution did cry out
Against the non-performance, 'twas a fear
Which oft affects the wisest: these,

Are such infirmities, that honesty
Is never free of.

13-i. 2.

50 This world to me is like a lasting storm, Whirring me from my friends.

33_iv. 1.

51
Good stars, that were my former guides,
Have empty left their orbs, and shot their fires
Into the abysm of hell.

30-iii. 11.

52 My eye's too quick, my heart o'erweens too much, Unless my band and strength could equal them.

23-iii. 2.

53
There is no terror in your threats ;
For I am arm'd so strong in honesty,
That they pass by me as the idle wind,
Which I respect not.

29-iv. 3.

54 If well-respected honour bid me on, I hold as little counsel with weak fear,

18-iv. 3.

55 Could beauty have better commerce than with honesty ?

36-iii. 1.

56
I ask that I might awaken reverence,
And bid the cheek be ready with a blush,
Modest as Morning when she coldly eyes
The youthful Phoebus. *

26-i. 3.

57
Have I lived thus long-(let me speak myself,
Since virtue finds no friends)—a wife, a true one ?
A woman (I dare say, without vain-glory)
Never yet branded with suspicion ?
Have I with all my full affections

loved him next heaven ? obey'd him?
Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him ?-
Almost forgot my prayers to content him?
And am I thus rewarded ? 'tis not well.-

As you.

Bring me a constant woman to her husband ;
One, that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure;
And to that woman, when she has done most,
Yet will I add an honour,-a great patience.

25-iii. 1. 53 Those, that do teach young babes, Do it with gentle means, and easy tasks: He might have chid me so; for, in good faith, I am a child to chiding.

37-iv. 2. 59

Heaven witness,
I have been to you a true and humble wife,
At all times to your will conformable:
Ever in fear to kindle your dislike,
Yea, subject to your countenance; glad, or sorry,
As I saw it inclined. When was the hour,
I ever contradicted your desire,
Or made it not mine too ? Or which of your friends
Have I not strove to love, although I knew
He were mine enemy? what friend of mine,
That had to him derived your anger, did I
Continue in my liking ? nay, gave notice
He was from thence discharged ? Sir, call to mind,
That I have been your wife, in this obedience,
Upward of twenty years, and have been blest
With many children by you: If, in the course
And process of this time, you can report,
And prove it too, against mine honour aught,
My bond to wedlock, or my love and duty,

your sacred person, in God's name,
Turn me away; and let the foul'st contempt
Shut door upon me, and so give me up
To the sharpest kind of justice.

25-ii. 4.

60
I was of late as petty to his ends,
As is the morn-dew on the myrtle leaf
To his grand sea.*

30_iii. 10.

61 Your changed complexions are to me a mirror, Which shows me mine changed too : for I must be