Long languishing in double malady,
of my hearts wound and of my body’s grief:
there came to me a leech that would apply
fit medicines for my body’s best relief
Vain man (quoth I) that hast but little prief:
in deep discovery of the mind’s disease,
is not the heart of all the body chief?
and rules the members as it self doth please.
Then with some cordials seek first to appease,
the inward languor of my wounded heart,
and then my body shall have shortly ease:
but such sweet cordials pass Physicians art.
Then my life’s Leech do you your skill reveal,
and with one salve both heart and body heal.
O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide,
The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds,
That did not better for my life provide,
Than public means which public manners breeds.
Thence comes it that my name receives a brand,
And almost thence my nature is subdu’d
To what it works in, like the dyer’s hand:
Pity me then and wish I were renew’d;
Whilst, like a willing patient, I will drink
Potions of eysell, ‘gainst my strong infection;
No bitterness that I will bitter think,
Nor double penance, to correct correction.
Pity me then, dear friend, and I assure ye
Even that your pity is enough to cure me.