Sab: Lost

She yields, she yields! Pale Envy said amen:
The first of women to the last of men.
Just so those frailer beings, angles, fell;
There's no midway, it seems, 'twixt heaven and hell.
Was it your end, in making her, to show
Things must be raised so high to fall so low?
Since her nor angels their own worth secures,
Look to it, gods! the next turn must be yours.
You who in careless scorn laughed at the ways
Of humble love, and called 'em rude essays,
Could you submit to let this heavy thing,
Artless and witless, no way meriting...

Этот фрагмент относится к тому времени когда Джон Уилмот находился в Тауре, в заключение после первого похищения Элизабет Малле. Все-таки она yields!!!