Page:Shakespeare Collection of Poems.djvu/131

With outward honesty, but yet defil'd
With inward vice; as Priam him did cherish,
So did I Tarquin, so my Troy did perish.

Looke, looke how listening Priam wets his eyes,
To see those borrowed tears that Sinon sheds:
Priam, why art thou old, and yet not wise?
For every tear he falls, a Trojan bleeds:
His eyes drop fire, no water thence proceeds.
Those round clear pearls of his that move thy pity,
Are balls of quenchlesse fire to burn thy City.

Such Devils steale effects from lightlesse Hell,
For Sinon in his fire doth quake with cold,
And in that cold hot burning fire doth dwell,
These contraries such unity do hold,
Only to flatter fools, and make them bold:
So Priam's trust false Sinon's tears doth flatter,
That he finds means to burn his Troy with water.

Here all enrag'd, such passion her assails,
That patience is quite beaten from her breast;
She tears the senselesse Sinon with her nails,
Comparing him to that unhappy guest,
Whose deed hath made her self her self detest;
At last she smilingly with this gives o're,
Fool, fool, quoth she, his wounds will not be sore.

Thus ebbs and flows the current of her sorrow,
And time doth weary time with her complaining.

She