'I will not poison thee with my attaint, (1073)
Nor fold my fault in cleanly-coin'd excuses; (1074)
My sable ground of sin I will not paint, (1075)
To hide the truth of this false night's abuses: (1076)
My tongue shall utter all; mine eyes, like sluices,
As from a mountain-spring that feeds a dale, (1078)
Shall gush pure streams to purge my impure tale.'