In one met thought. But he went on a pace, And at the present times with such a face He rail'd as fry'd me; for he gave no praise To any but my Lord of Essex's days;
Call'd those the age of action. There's now as great an itch of bravery, And heat of taking up, but cold lay down, For put to push of pay, away they run:
Our only city trades of hope now are
Bawds, tavern-keepers, whore, and scrivener; "The much of priviledg'd kinsmen, and the store Of fresh protections make the rest all poor: In the first state of their creation
Tho' many stoutly stand, yet proves not one
A righteous pay-master. Thus ran he on In a continued rage: so void of reason
Seem'd his harsh talk, I swate for fear of treason. And (troth) how could I less? when in the prayer For the protection of the wise Lord Mayor; And his wise brethren's worships, when one prayeth, He swore that none could say Amen with faith. To get him off from what I glow'd to hear, (In happy time) an Angel did appear, The bright sign of a lov'd and well-tried inn, Where many citizens with their wives had been Well us'd and often: here I pray'd him stay To take some due refreshment by the way.
Look how he look'd that hid his gold, his hope,HA And at his return found nothing but a rope;
So he on me: refus'd, and made away,
Tho' willing she pleaded a weary day;:
I found my miss, struck bands, and pray'd him tell (To hold acquaintance still) where he did dwell; He barely nam'd the street, promis'd the wine; But his kind wife gave me the very sign."
ELEGY XVII.
THE EXPOSTULATION.
To make the doubt clear, that no woman 's true, Was it my fate to prove it strong in you? Thought I, hut one had breathed purest air, And must she needs be false because she 's fair? Is it your beauty's mark, or of your youth, Or your perfection, not to study truth? Or think you Heav'n is deaf, or hath no eyes, Or those it hath smile at your perjuries?! Are vows so cheap with women, or the matter Whereof they're made, that they are writ in water, And blown away with wind? or doth their breath bea (Both hot and cold) at once make life and death? W Who could have thought so many accents sweet, Form'd into words, so many sighs should meer; in t As from our hearts; so many oaths and tears ad ort lit Sprinkled among, (all sweeten'd by our fears)
And the divine impression of stoln kisses,
That seal'd the rest, should now prove empty blisses? Did you draw bonds to forfeit? sign to break? Or must we read you quite from what you speak, 20 And find the truth out the wrong way? or must He first desire you false who 'ld wish you just? O! I prophane: tho' most of women be
This kind of beast, my thoughts shall except thee, My dearest Love! tho' froward jealousy With circumstance might urge thy' inconstancy, Sooner I'll think the sun will cease to chear The teeming earth, and that forget to bear; Sooner that rivers will run back, or Thames With ribs of ice in June will bind his streams; 30 Or Nature, by whose strength the world indures, Would change her course, before you alter your's. But, oh! that treacherous breast, to whom weak you Did trust our counsels, and we both may rue," Having his falsehood found too late, 'twas he That made me cast you guilty, and you me; Whilst he (black wretch!) betray'd each simple word, We spake unto the cunning of a third.
Curst may he be that so our love hath slain,
And wander on the earth wretched as Cain! 240
Wretched as he, and not deserve least pity;
Let all eyes shun him, and he shun each eye,
Till he be noisome as his infamy!
May he without remorse deny God thrice, And not be trusted more on his soul's price; And after all self-torment, when he dies May wolves tear out his heart, vultures his eyes, Swine eat his bowels, and his falser tongue, That utter'd all, be to some raven flung; And let his carrion-corse be a longer feast To the king's dogs than any other beast!? Now I have curst, let us our love revive; In me the flame was never more alive: I could begin again to court and praise, And in that pleasure lengthen the short days Of my life's lease: like painters that do take Delight not in made works, but whilst they make. I could renew those times when first I saw
Love in your eyes, that gave my tongue the law To like what you lik'd, and at masks and plays Commend the self-same actors the same ways; Ask how you did, and often, with intent Of being officious, be impertinent:
All which were such soft pastimes, as in these Love was as subtilely catch'd as a disease; But being got, it is a treasure sweet, Which to defend is harder than to get, And ought not to be prophan'd on either part, For tho' 'tis got by chance 'tis kept by art.
WHOEVER loves, if he do not propose
The right tre end of Love, he's one that goes To sea for nothing but to make him sick. Love is a bear-whelp born; if we o'er-lick Our love, and force it new strong shapes to take, We err, and of a lump a monster make. Were not a calf a monster, that were grown Fac'd like a man, tho' better than his own? Perfection is in unity: prefer
One woman first, and then one thing in her I, when I value gold, may think upon The ductileness, the application,
The wholsomeness, the ingenuity, From rust, from soil, from fire, ever free But if I love it, 'tis because 'tis made w wodza By our new nature (use) the soul of trade no t All these in women we might think upqgA (If women had them) and yet love but one Can men more injure women than to say toy is w They love them for that by which they're not they Makes virtue woman? must I cool my blood to Tall I both be and find one wise aud good?
May barren angels love so: but if we
Make love to woman, virtue is not she:
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