|
| Poore victories; But if you dare be brave, |
| And pleasure in your conquest have, |
| First kill th'enormous Gyant, your Disdaine, |
| And let th'enchantresse Honor, next be slaine, |
| And like a Goth and Vandall rize, |
| Deface Records, and Histories |
| Of your owne arts and triumphs over men, |
| And without such advantage kill me then. |
|
| For I could muster up as well as you |
| My Gyants, and my Witches too, |
| Which are vast Constancy, and Secretnesse, |
| But these I neyther looke for, nor professe, |
| Kill mee as Woman, let mee die |
| As a meere man; doe you but try |
| Your passive valor, and you shall finde than, |
| In that you'have odds enough of any man. |
|
|
| The Dissolution. |
|
| Shee'is dead; And all which die |
| To their first Elements resolve; |
| And wee were mutuall Elements to us, |
| And made of one another. |
| My body then doth hers involve, |
| And those things whereof I consist, hereby |
| In me abundant grow, and burdenous, |
| And nourish not, but smother.
|
[CW: My] |