Whereby she seized was, And then to Ludlow sent: 170 Where she was judg'd, condemn'd, and hang'd, For murder incontinent.
There dyed this gallant quean, Such was her greatest gains: For murder in Polonia, 175 Was Barnwell hang'd in chains.
Lo! here's the end of youth, That after harlots haunt; Who in the spoil of other men, About the streets do flaunt. 180
[426] The having a sum of money with him on Sunday, &c. shews this narrative to have been penned before the civil wars: the strict observance of the sabbath was owing to the change of manners at that period.
[428] _i.e._ for stopping, and apprehending him at his father's.
These beautiful stanzas were written by _George Wither_, of whom some account was given in the former part of this volume; see the song intitled, _The Shepherd's Resolution_, book ii. song xxi. In the first edition of this work only a small fragment of this sonnet was inserted. It was afterwards rendered more compleat and intire by the addition of five stanzas more, extracted from Wither's pastoral poem, intitled, _The Mistress of Philarete_, of which this song makes a part. It is now given still more correct and perfect by comparing it with another copy, printed by the author in his improved edition of _The Shepherd's Hunting_, 1620, 8vo.
[The Folio MS. (ed. Hales and Furnivall, vol. iii. p. 360) contains only the fifth and sixth stanzas slightly varied, which were printed in the first edition of the _Reliques_, with the title of _The Aspiring Shepherd_.]
Hence away, thou Syren, leave me, Pish! unclaspe these wanton armes; Sugred words can ne'er deceive me, (Though thou prove a thousand charmes). Fie, fie, forbeare; 5 No common snare Can ever my affection chaine: Thy painted baits, And poore deceits, Are all bestowed on me in vaine. 10
I'me no slave to such, as you be; Neither shall that snowy brest, Rowling eye, and lip of ruby Ever robb me of my rest:
Goe, go display 15 Thy beautie's ray To some more soone-enamour'd swaine; Those common wiles Of sighs and smiles Are all bestowed on me in vaine. 20
I have elsewhere vowed a dutie; Turne away thy tempting eye: Shew not me a painted beautie; These impostures I defie: My spirit lothes 25 Where gawdy clothes And fained othes may love obtaine: I love her so, Whose looke sweares No; That all your labours will be vaine. 30