Tottel sig. Ddiiir

[sig. Ddiiir]

Wherfore do way you come to late. For when I brent in endlesse fire, Who ruled then but cruell hate? So that vnneth I durst desire (25) One looke, my feruent heate to slake. Therfore another doth me hyre, And all the profer that you make, Is made in vayne and comes to late. For when I asked recompence, (30) With cost you nought to graunt God wat:Then said disdaine to great expence, It were for you to graunt me that. Therfore do way your rere pretence, That you would binde that derst you brake, (35) For lo your salue comes all to late.

The complaint of a woman
rauished, and also mor-
tally wounded. +

A Cruell Tiger all with teeth bebled, +A bloody tirantes hand in eche degre, A lecher that by wretched lust was led, (Alas) deflowred my virginitee. (5) And not contented with this villanie, Nor with thoutragious terrour of the dede, With bloody thirst of greater crueltie: Fearing his haynous gilt should be bewrayed, By crying death and vengeance openly, (10) His violent hand forthwith alas he layed Upon my guiltles sely childe and me, And like the wretch whom no horrour dismayde, Drownde in the sinke of depe iniquitie: Misusing me the mother for a time, (15) Hath slaine vs both for cloking of his crime.

The louer being made thrall by
loue, perceiueth how great
a losse is libertye. +