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ElJeal ["Fond woman which wouldst haue thy hvsband die"]


And though in childbirths labour shee did lie;
Midwiues would sweare, twere but a Timpanie
Whome if shee accuse her selfe, I creditt lesse,
Then Witches, which impossibles confesse.
One like non, and likt of none fittest were
For things in fashion every man will weare.|




Elegie


Fond woman which wouldst haue thy hvsband die
And yet complainst of his great Ielosie
If swolne with poyson hee lay in his bed,
His boddie with a sore barke couered
Drawinge his breath as thick and short as cann
The Nimblest Crotchetings Musitian̅:
Readie with loathsome vomitinge to spue
His Soule out of one hell into a newe,
Made deafe with his poore kyndreds howlinge cries,
Begginge with feaw faind teares, great Legacies.
Thou wouldst not weepe but iolie, and frolicke bee,
As a slaue which to morrowe should bee free.
Yet weepst thou when thou seest him hungerlie
Swallowe his owne death, harts baine Ielousie?
O giue him many thanks hees courteous
That in suspectinge kyndlie warneth vs;
Wee mvst not as wee vsd flout openlye
In scoffinge ridles his deformitie;
Nor at his bord together beinge sate [CW: with]
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