"Thy black is fairest in my judgment's place;

In nothing art thou black, save in thy deeds."

Son. 131.

"For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,

Who art as black as hell, as dark as night."

Son. 147.

Well might he blame his pliability of temper, his insufficiency of judgment and resolution, well might he call himself "past cure," and "frantick-mad," when, addressing this profligate woman, he exclaims,

"Whence hast thou this becoming of things ill,

That in the very refuse of thy deeds

There is such strength and warrantise of skill,