[32 more putrifi'd _1633-39:_ more purifi'd _1650-54:_ worse purifi'd _1669:_ worse putrifi'd _A18_, _A25_, _Cy_, _D_, _L74_, _Lec_, _N_, _O'F_, _P_, _S_, _S96_, _TC_, _W:_ worst putrifi'd _B_, _H49_, _JC_] ELEGIE IV. _The Perfume._ Once, and but once found in thy company, All thy suppos'd escapes are laid on mee; And as a thiefe at barre, is question'd there By all the men, that have beene rob'd that yeare, So am I, (by this traiterous meanes surpriz'd) 5 By thy Hydroptique father catechiz'd. Though he had wont to search with glazed eyes, As though he came to kill a Cockatrice, Though hee hath oft sworne, that hee would remove Thy beauties beautie, and food of our love, 10 Hope of his goods, if I with thee were seene, Yet close and secret, as our soules, we'have beene. Though thy immortall mother which doth lye Still buried in her bed, yet will not dye, Takes this advantage to sleepe out day-light, 15 And watch thy entries, and returnes all night, And, when she takes thy hand, and would seeme kind, Doth search what rings, and armelets she can finde, And kissing notes the colour of thy face, And fearing least thou'art swolne, doth thee embrace; 20 To trie if thou long, doth name strange meates, And notes thy palenesse, blushing, sighs, and sweats; And politiquely will to thee confesse The sinnes of her owne youths ranke lustinesse; Yet love these Sorceries did remove, and move 25 Thee to gull thine owne mother for my love. Thy little brethren, which like Faiery Sprights Oft skipt into our chamber, those sweet nights, And kist, and ingled on thy fathers knee, Were brib'd next day, to tell what they did see: 30 The grim eight-foot-high iron-bound serving-man, That oft names God in oathes, and onely than, He that to barre the first gate, doth as wide As the great Rhodian Colossus stride, Which, if in hell no other paines there were, 35 Makes mee feare hell, because he must be there: Though by thy father he were hir'd to this, Could never witnesse any touch or kisse. But Oh, too common ill, I brought with mee That, which betray'd mee to my enemie: 40 A loud perfume, which at my entrance cryed Even at thy fathers nose, so were wee spied. When, like a tyran King, that in his bed Smelt gunpowder, the pale wretch shivered. Had it beene some bad smell, he would have thought 45 That his owne feet, or breath, that smell had wrought. But as wee in our Ile emprisoned, Where cattell onely,'and diverse dogs are bred, The pretious Vnicornes, strange monsters call, So thought he good, strange, that had none at all. 50 I taught my silkes, their whistling to forbeare, Even my opprest shoes, dumbe and speechlesse were,