_Pontio lavanti._ Matt. xxvii. 24.
Non satis est caedes, nisi stuprum hoc insuper addas,
Et tam virgineae sis violator aquae?
Nympha quidem pura haec et honesti filia fontis
Luget, adulterio jam temerata tuo.
Casta verecundo properat cum murmure gutta,
Nec satis in lacrymam se putat esse suam.
Desine tam nitidos stuprare, ah desine, rores:
Aut dic, quae miseras unda lavabit aquas.
_To Pontius washing his blood-stained hands._
Is murther no sin? or a sin so cheape
That thou need'st heape
A rape upon't? Till thy adult'rous touch
Taught her these sullied cheeks, this blubber'd face,
She was a nimph, the meadowes knew none such;
Of honest parentage, of unstain'd race;
The daughter of a faire and well-fam'd fountaine
As ever silver-tipt the side of shady mountaine.
See how she weeps, and weeps, that she appeares
Nothing but teares:
Each drop's a teare that weeps for her own wast.
Harke how at every touch she does complaine her;
Harke how she bids her frighted drops make hast,
And with sad murmurs chides the hands that stain her.
Leave, leave, for shame; or else, good judge, decree
What water shal wash this when this hath washed thee. CR.