XVII.

No lustfull woman came this plant to grieve, But 'twas because there was none yet but Eve: And she (with other purpose) kill'd it quite; Her sinne had now brought in infirmities, And so her cradled child, the moist red eyes 165 Had never shut, nor slept since it saw light; Poppie she knew, she knew the mandrakes might, And tore up both, and so coold her childs blood; Unvirtuous weeds might long unvex'd have stood; But hee's short liv'd, that with his death can doe most good. 170