XXX.
UNbare that ivory Hand! Hide it no more! For though it death brings to my tender heart To see it naked, where is Beauty's store; And where moist pearl with azure doth impart: Yet fear I not to die, in this sweet wise! My fancy, so to see 't, is set on fire. Then leave that glove! (most hateful to mine eyes!) And let me surfeit with this kind desire! So that my looks may have of them their fill; Though heart decay, I'll take it for none ill.
Mantoa.
XXXI.
"MY Mistress seems but brown," say you to me. 'Tis very true, and I confess the same: Yet love I her although that brown She be; Because to please me, She is glad and fain. I lovèd one most beautiful before; Whom now, as death, I deadly do abhor. Because to scorn my service her I found; I gave her o'er, and chose to me this same. Nor to be faithful, think I, I am bound To one, in whom no kindness doth remain. This is the cause, for brown and pitiful; I left a fair, but yet a faithless, Trull.
XXXII.