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4

First they mislike yet at the length
For lucre were misled,
And then the gamesome earl did win
The damsel for his bed.
He took her in his arms as yet,
So coyish to be kiss’d:
As maids who know themselves belov’d,
and yieldingly resist.

In few his offers were so large,
She lastly did consent;
With whom he lodged all that night
And early home he went.
He took occasion oftentimes,
In such a sort to hunt;
Whom when his lady often miss'd,
Contrary to his wont.

And lastly was informed of
His amorous haunt elsewhere:
It griev'd her not a little though
She seem’d it well to bear.
And thus she reasons with herself,
Some fault perhaps in me;
Somewhat is done that so he doth,
Alas! what may it be.

How may I win him to myself,
He is a man, and men
Have imperfections, it behoves
Me pardon nature then.