The rein of my bridle is tied so short,
That I cannot make you any more sport.
But though I be bridled now of the Just,
I doubt not but I shall be unbridled by Lust,
And let not Just think but I will rebel,
Although he bridle me ten times all well;
Though Nature saith one doom with a croch,
It will not lie long, but incontinent approach;
Even so, though that I be bridled a while,
The colt will at length the courser beguile.