Lost, I am lost: my fates have doomed my...

Lost, I am lost: my fates have doomed my death.

The more I strive, I love; the more I love,

The less I hope: I see my ruin, certain.

What judgement or endeavours could apply

To my incurable and restless wounds

I thoroughly have examined, but in vain.

O that it were not in religion sin

To make our love a god, and worship it.

I have even weared heaven with prayers, dried up

The spring of my continual tears, even started

My veins with daily fasts. What wit or art

Could counsel, I have practised; but alas

I find all these but dreams, and old men's tales

To fright unsteady youth; I'm still the same.

Or I must speak, or burst; 'tis not I know,

My lust, but 'tis my fate that leads me on.

Keep fear and low faint-hearted shame with slaves!

I'll tell her that I love her, though my heart

Were rated at the price of that attempt.

Ford, John. Tis Pity She’s a Whore. [http://www.johnwebster.galeon.com/writersworks/pity/act1.2pity.htm]