KATHERINE

With your pardon sir, I shall sooner hate my self, Then love him. It seems he can scarce carry himself. Good youth Amen: I do return your wish With ample interest of beatitude. My Ned, my Pasquil, sweet I come, I come, Even with Like swiftness, though not with Like heart: As the fierce Fawcon stoops to rising fowl I hurrey to thee: do not go away, The place is private, and 'tis yet scarce day. Nay when heavens melted, & the sun struck dead, Even then my love shall not be vanquished. Thrice sacred spirit, why dost thou forsake Elizeum pleasures, to withhold the arm Of wretched Katherine? O let me die, Retire sweet Ghost, do not pollute thy hand With touch of mortals. Alas deer heart, that love should be so crossed. Now good Ned fetch my gown, 'tis at yond house, I would be loath to turn to Hygate thus. Once more let me be valued worth his love, In decking of whose soul, the graces strove. Forget deer father, that my act hath wronged The quiet of your age. Unto my love? O sir you bind me to you: Fair Gentleman I have a thankful heart, Though not a glorious speech to sweet my thanks. With my love sir, I relish not your speech. Alas sir, cannot be my Loves a man, Who hardly can requite the deer protests Of kind affection, which you seem to vow Unto his Fortune's: kind youth, you did wish All happiness to wait upon my love: Well he shall know it when we next do meet, And thank you kindly: now good morrow sweet. Alas good aged Sir, what make you up? In faith I pity you, good soul to bed, Troth soon yowl cry, O God my head, my head. 'Tis well sung good old man, hence with your gold, Leave the green fields 'tis dewy; yowl take cold. Come you grow wanton. O you bite my lip. Let the unsanctified spirit of ambition Entice the choice of muddy minded Dams To yoke themselves to swine, and for vain hope Of gay rich trappings, be still spurred and pricked With pining discontent for nuptial sweets. But let me live loved in my husbands eyes, Whose thoughts with mine, may sweetly sympathise. When I prove false, Hell shall be Paradise. Thy love shall be my life, thy hate my death. In death let me be counted thine and chaste. One kiss shall give thee mine eternally. With all my mind, wear this Ned for my sake, But now no more, bright day malings our love, Farewell, yet stay, but 'tis no matter too, My Father knows I think, what must ensue. Adieu, yet hark, nay faith, adieu, adieu. Eternal death unto my happiness, My Pasquil slain? O God, o God, o God. Black sorrow, nurse of plaints, of tears, & groans, Evaporate my spirit with a sighs, That it may hurrey after his sweet breath, Who made thee dote on life, now hunt for death. Here seems to be the pressure of his trunk, Dear earth confirm my doubt, was this the place Which the fair body of my Pasquil pressed, When he lay murdered? See the drooping grass Hangs down his mourning head, and seems to say This was the fatal place, where Pasquil lay. O thou sweet print, stamped by the fairest limbs, The richest Coffin of the purest soul That ever pressed the bosom of the earth, First drink my tears, and next suck up my blood. Now thou immortal spirit of my Love, Thou precious soul of Pasquil view this knife Which once thou gavest me, and prepare thy arm To clip the spirit of thy constant Love. Dear Ned I come, by death I will be thine, Since life denies it to poor Katherine. What do I dream? or have I drawn the sluice Of life up? and through streams of blood Unfelt, have set my prisoned soul at large? Am I in heaven? or in Pasquils Arms? I am in heaven, for my Neds embrace Is Katherine's long wished celestial place. Heaven of Content, Paphos of my delight. Centre to whom all my affections move. O I am mazed with joy, I pree thee sweet, Unfold to me, what sad mischance it was, Forced thy death's rumour, and such woes dispersed? Sad sorrow passed, delights to be rehearsed. How loves impatient, when will Ned return? Good devil, for Gods sake do not vex my sighed: Didst not thou plot the death of my deer Love? You make me death, for pities sake forbear: O when will Pasquil come? Good Sir depart. When wilt return? I pray you Sir go hence, And troth, I will not hate you: nay I'll speak Against my heart, and say I loath you not. You vex my patience, gentle sir forbear, I beg it on my knee, and with a tear. Heaven detest me first, and loathe my soul. God knows it is. So good Sir rest content. Be pitiful and kill me gentle Sir. Heaven my heart is cracked with misery: Where shall I hide me? which way shall I cleanse The eating poison of this venomde oil? Poor wretch (alas) see where thy Pasquil comes. The devil in the shape of Mamon. Sweet Touch me not. Pasquil I conjure thee now By all the power of affection, By that strict bound of love that links our hearts, Leave and abandon me eternally. I merit now no love, yet prithee sweet, Vouchsafe to give me leave to love thee still. But I do bind thee by thy sacred vow Of our once happy, and thrice blessed love, Follow not Katherine: good Ned, do not grieve, In time joust heaven may our woes relieve. Once more the gracious heavens have renewed My wasted Hope's, once more a blessed chance Hath fetched again my spirit from the sound And languishing despair of happiness. A skilful Beldame with the Juice of herbs Hath curd my face, and killed the venoms power, And now if Pasquil live and love me still, Heaven is bounteous to poor Katherine. Yond suppes my Father, but my Ned's not there I fear, and yet I know not what I fear. Would he had his wits. O what a numbing fear Strikes a cold palsy through my trembling blood. Dear Pasquil, the life of Katherine's Hope's.