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If thou give nothing, yet thou art just,
Because I would not thy first motions trust:
Small towns which stand stiff, till great shot
Enforce them, by war's law, condition not,
Such in loves warfare is my case,
I may not article for grace,
Having put love at last to shew his face.
This face, by which he could command
And change the Idolatry of any Land,
This face, which, wheresoe'r it comes,
Can call vow'd men from cloysters, dead from tombs,
And melt both Poles at once, and store
Deserts with Cities, and make more
Mynes in the earth, than Quarries were before.
For, this love is inrag'd with me,
Yet kills not: if I must example be
To future Rebels: if th' unborn
Must learn, by my being cut up, and torn:
Kill and dissect me, Love; for this
Torture against thine own end is,
Rack't carcasses make ill Anatomies.
Confined Love.
Some man unworthy to be possessor
Of old or new love, himself being false or weak,
Thought this pain and shame would be lesser
If on woman kinde he might his anger wreak,
And thence a law did grow,
One might but one man know;
But are other creatures so?

[CW: Are]