Especially where few the fault abhor.
But yet shee rather deadly poyson chose,
(Oh cruell Bane of most accursed Clime;)
Than staine that milk-white Mayden-virgin Rose,
Which shee had kept vnspotted till that time:
And not corrupted with this earthly slime
Her soule shall liue: inclosd eternally,
In that pure shrine of Immortality.
This is my Doome: and this shall come to passe,