What, Haue I Thus Betray'D My Libertie? Can Those Blacke Beames Such Burning Markes Engraue In My Free Side, Or Am I Borne A Slaue, Whose Necke Becomes Such Yoke Of Tyrannie? Or Want I Sense To Feel My Misery, Or Sprite, Disdaine Of Such Disdaine To Haue, Who For Long Faith, Tho' Daily Helpe I Craue, May Get No Almes, But Scorne Of Beggarie. Vertue, Awake! Beautie But Beautie Is; I May, I Must, I Can, I Will, I Do Leaue Following That Which It Is Gain To Misse. Let Her Goe! Soft, But Here She Comes! Goe To, Vnkind, I Loue You Not! O Me, That Eye Doth Make My Heart To Giue My Tongue The Lie!