Astrophel and Stella: 45

Stella oft sees the very face of woPainted in my beclowded stormie face:But cannot skill to pitie my disgrace,Not though thereof the cause her selfe she know.Yet hearing late a fable, which did showOf Louers neuer knowne, a grieuous case,Pitie thereof gate in her breast such place,That from that sea deriu'd teares spring did flow.Alas, if Fancy drawne by imag'd things,Though false, yet with free scope more grace doth breedThen seruants wrack, where new doubts honor brings;Then think my deare, that you in me do reedOf louers ruine some sad Tragedie:I am not I, pitie the tale of me.