previous next

30

(204)
'Yea, though I die, the scandal will survive, (205)

And be an eye-sore in my golden coat; (206)

Some loathsome dash the herald will contrive, (207)

To cipher me how fondly I did dote; (208)

That my posterity, shamed with the note,
(209)
Shall curse my bones, and hold it for no sin (210)

To wish that I their father had not bin.

Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 United States License.

An XML version of this text is available for download, with the additional restriction that you offer Perseus any modifications you make. Perseus provides credit for all accepted changes, storing new additions in a versioning system.

hide Display Preferences
Greek Display:
Arabic Display:
View by Default:
Browse Bar: