LXXXI.

Love had made Catherine make each lover's fortune,

Unlike our own half-chaste Elizabeth,

Whose avarice all disbursements did importune,

If History, the grand liar, ever saith

The truth; and though grief her old age might shorten,

Because she put a favourite to death,

Her vile, ambiguous method of flirtation,

And stinginess, disgrace her sex and station.

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