Unless someone do perish in that flame:
Upon whose loving dust this sentence lies,
Here 's one was murther'd by his mistress' eyes.
Or was't because my love to thee was such,
20I could not choose but blab it? swear how much
I was thy slave, and doting let thee know,
I better could myself than thee forgo.
Hearken! ye men that e'er shall love like me,
I'll give you counsel gratis: if you be
Possess'd of what you like, let your fair friend