Then first I did perceive I had offended;
My blood the tears were that from her descended.60
Before her feet thrice prostrate down I fell,
My fearèd hands thrice back she did repel.
But doubt thou not (revenge doth grief appease),
With thy sharp nails upon my face to seize;
Bescratch mine eyes, spare not my locks to break
(Anger will help thy hands though ne'er so weak);
And lest the sad signs of my crime remain,
Put in their place thy kembèd[168] hairs again.