Anon she leapt on it with ardent heate, and full of teares, yet falles vppon her backe: Wishing euen in that griefe the lustfull feate, Were now perform'd (woemen oft longings lack down sunck the down, and with so deep impresse that had Hermaphroditus bin there he might ges Salmacis were aganie his prostitute, or one more farte, then to denie her suite. A strange conceite, had now possest hir braine, nie equall to her lust, thought innocent: She gaue vp to desire and leapes amaine, From the bruisd bed, with bloodie fram'd int[=e]t To hang her selfe O, me moste wofull theame. She now espide an hie and sturdie beame: Many staue liu'd to an vnpittied death, who might haue dyed sometimes with famed breath. Yet doth she thinke what terror death would be and on her heart, imprints his Character: Faine would she die, yet first would pleased be with damned lust, which death could not deter O sinne (saies she) thou must be Natures slaue, In spight of Fate, goe to a pleasing graue. When I haue sin'd, send _Ioue_ a thunder stroake and spare thy chosen tree, the harmlesse Oake. She thinkes againe, and sees nor time nor place, to quench the thirstines of her parched blood: Time still ranne on, with an auerted face, and nothing but her passions did her good. This thought confoundes her, and she is resoul'd In deathes bleake azure armes to be inuoul'd. Fates, you are women, saue your modesties: sheele kill her selfe, you neede but close her eies. And like as when some suddaine extasie, seisth the nature of a sicklie man, When hee's discernd to swoune, straite by and by folke by his helpe confusedly haue ran, And seeking with their art to fetch him backe: so many throng, that he the ayre doth lacke, so _Mirrha's_ thoughts confusedly did stound her. some adding c[=o]fort, whilst the rest confound her. Like to a fountaines head, so shew'd her head, from whence since passion first tooke hold of hir Two springs did run thorow each flowr-fil'd mead & at her lips staid, where shee wisht _Cynir_ Would so haue done: her face with teares run ore, Like _Hebaes_ Nectar shew'd, spilt on heauens flore. or as the blomes in May the dewe drops beares, so _Mirrha's_ cheeks look'd sprinkl'd with her tears. Her haire, that with such diligence was vsde To be kemb'd vp & did like clowdes appeare; Where many spangles, star-like were infus'd, To attend the lustre of so bright a haire, Whose beames like bright _Arachnes_ web c[=o]posed Taught _Pallas_ a new enuie, now vnlosed, hiding her face, yet making it seeme rarer, as blazing Commets traine makes the star fairer.