My hart, my hands, mine eyes, and all assayd?
Me liefer were ten thousand deathes[571] priefe,
Then wound of gealous worme, and shame of such repriefe.
I home returning, fraught with fowle despight, xxix
And chawing vengeance all the way I went,
Soone as my loathed loue appeard in sight,
With wrathfull hand I slew her innocent;
That after soone I dearely did lament:
For when the cause of that outrageous deede
Demaunded, I made plaine and euident,