I cannot trick it up with poesies,

Nor paint my passions with comparisons,

Nor tell the tale of Phoebus and his loves: (1)

Nor tell a tale of Venus and her son, (1)

Orl. Fur. (Dyce 94) II, 1, 18-19.

I cannot paint my valor out in words:

Ard. of Fev. II, ii, 116.

I cannot, Madame, tell a loving tale

Or court my Mistress with fabulous discourses.

Faire Em, III, 1, 113-4.

1. Robert Greene und the play of George-A-Greene,

The Pinner of Wakefield. Oscar Mertius, Breslan, 1885

Now, as it is not lawful for a man,

At such a king's departure or decease,

To leave the place, and falsify his faith;

So, in this case, we ought not to surrender

That dearer part, till heaven itself command it. (1) 21 Corn. II, 331-5.

Oh no, the sentinel his watch must keep,
Until his Lord do licence him to sleep. (1)

Pilgr. 126.

The soldier may not move from watchfull stead
Nor leave his stand, until his captain bid. (1)
F. Queene. I, IX, XLI.

1. Thomas Kyd's Spanish Tragedy, Sarrazin.

But this it is that doth my soul torment.

Pilg. 142.

But this, O this torments my labouring soul.

Sp. Tr. (D. H. X, 63). III, 1, 43.

And only this torments my wretched soul.

Edw. II, 1. 420. I, iv, 123.

Madame, these humors do torment my soul.

Sp. Tr., III, viii, 13.

But sorrow seize upon my toiling soul.
Mass. 11. 1175.