|
| For thee, thou needst no such deceit, |
| For thou thy selfe art thine owne bait, |
| That fish, that is not catch'd thereby, |
| Alas, is wiser farre then I. |
|
|
| The Apparition. |
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| When by thy scorne, O murdresse, I am dead, |
| And that thou thinkst thee free |
| From all solicitation from mee, |
| Then shall my ghost come to thy bed, |
| And thee* fain'd vestall in worse armes shall see; |
| Then thy sicke taper will begin to winke, |
| And he, whose thou art then, being tyr'd before, |
| Will, if thou stirre, or pinch to wake him, thinke |
| Thou call'st for more, |
| And in false sleepe will from thee shrinke, |
| And then poore Aspen wretch, neglected thou |
| Bath'd in* a cold quicksilver sweat wilt lye |
| A veryer ghost then I; |
| What I will say, I will not tell thee now, |
| Lest that preserve thee'; and since my love is spent, |
| I'had rather thou shouldst painfully repent, |
| Then by my threatnings rest still innocent.
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[CW: The] |