Madame, to shew the smoothnesse of my vaine, Neither that I would haue you entertaine The time in reading me, which you would spend In faire discourse with some knowne honest friend, I write not to you. Nay, and which is more, My powerfull verses striue not to restore, What time and sicknesse haue in you impair'd, To other ends my Elegie is squar'd. Your beauty, sweetnesse, and your gracefull parts That haue drawne many eyes, wonne many hearts, 10 Of me get little, I am so much man, That let them doe their vtmost that they can, I will resist their forces: and they be Though great to others, yet not so to me. The first time I beheld you, I then sawe That (in it selfe) which had the power to drawe My stayd affection, and thought to allowe You some deale of my heart; but you have now Got farre into it, and you haue the skill (For ought I see) to winne vpon me still. 20 When I doe thinke how brauely you haue borne Your many crosses, as in Fortunes scorne, And how neglectfull you have seem'd to be, Of that which hath seem'd terrible to me, I thought you stupid, nor that you had felt Those griefes which (often) I haue scene to melt Another woman into sighes and teares, A thing but seldome in your sexe and yeares, But when in you I haue perceiu'd agen, (Noted by me, more then by other men) 30 How feeling and how sensible you are Of your friends sorrowes, and with how much care You seeke to cure them, then my selfe I blame, That I your patience should so much misname, Which to my vnderstanding maketh knowne Who feeles anothers griefe, can feele their owne. When straight me thinkes, I heare your patience say, Are you the man that studied _Seneca_: _Plinies_ most learned letters; and must I Read you a Lecture in Philosophie, 40 T'auoid the afflictions that haue vs'd to reach you; I'le learne you more, Sir, then your bookes can teach you. Of all your sex, yet neuer did I knowe, Any that yet so actually could showe Such rules for patience, such an easie way, That who so sees it, shall be forc'd to say, Loe what before seem'd hard to be discern'd, Is of this Lady, in an instant learn'd. It is heauens will that you should wronged be By the malicious, that the world might see 50 Your Doue-like meekenesse; for had the base scumme, The spawne of Fiends, beene in your slander dumbe, Your vertue then had perish'd, neuer priz'd, For that the same you had not exercised; And you had lost the Crowne you haue, and glory, Nor had you beene the subiect of my Story. Whilst they feele Hell, being damned in their hate, Their thoughts like Deuils them excruciate, Which by your noble suffrings doe torment