Fidelia. Newly corrected and augmented, by George Withers of Lincolnes Inne Gentleman Wither, George, 1588-1667. 1619 Approx. 77 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 30 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2004-03 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A15642 STC 25907 ESTC S120231 99855430 99855430 20924 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A15642) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 20924) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 1401:14) Fidelia. Newly corrected and augmented, by George Withers of Lincolnes Inne Gentleman Wither, George, 1588-1667. [64] p. Printed by E[dward] G[riffin] for Thomas Walkley and are to be sold at his shop at the Eagle and Childe in Brittaines Burse, London : 1619. In verse. Printer's name from STC. Signatures: A-D. The first leaf is blank. With a final colophon leaf; the last leaf is blank. An unauthorized edition (STC). Reproduction of the original in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery. Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. Re-processed by University of Nebraska-Lincoln and Northwestern, with changes to facilitate morpho-syntactic tagging. Gap elements of known extent have been transformed into placeholder characters or elements to simplify the filling in of gaps by user contributors. 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Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements). Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site . eng 2003-09 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2003-09 Apex CoVantage Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2003-10 Emma (Leeson) Huber Sampled and proofread 2003-10 Emma (Leeson) Huber Text and markup reviewed and edited 2003-12 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion FIDELIA . NEWLY CORRECTED and augmented , By GEORGE WITHERS of Lincolnes Inne Gentleman . LONDON Printed by E. G. for Thomas Walkley , and are to be sold at his shop at the Eagle and Childe in Brittaines Burse . 1619. THE STATIONER to the Reader . THis Epistle intituled Fidelia , was long since , imprinted to the vse of the Author , who by the intreaty of some of his acquaintance was content to bestow it on such as had voluntarily requested it in way of an Aduenture . But hauing dispersed many , and remembring how farre it would be from his disposition to lay claime to proffered gratuities , he wholy repented himselfe of what indeed he neuer well approued of , and how iustly soeuer he might haue challenged , more then many would haue lost , yet in steed of being beholding , is resolued , rather to make those that haue receiued any of his Bookes a litle beholding to him , in freely forgiuing them their unvrged promises : And forasmuch as he perceiues that it hath delighted some , and is neuer likely to preiudice any , it hath pleased him that I should publish it to my owne benefit , so long as I shall in the imprinting thereof carefully respect his credit , which as I neuer intend to faile of , on my part , so ( hoping you that shall read it , will on your behalfes censure it with as litle ill meaning to him as he had malice towards you in the composing thereof ) I commit it to your discretions , and wish I could as well present you with all he hath bin Author of . Yours , GEORGE NORTON . An Elegiacall Epistle of Fidelia to her vnconstant Friend . THE ARGVMENT . This Elegiacall Epistle , being a fragment of some greater Poeme , discouers the modest affections of a discreet and constant woman , shadowed vnder the name of Fidelia ; wherein you may perceiue the height of their passions , so farre as they seeme to agree with reason , and keepe within such decent bounds as beseemeth their sexe , but further it meddles not . The occasion seemes to proceed from some mutability in her friend ; whose obiections shee here presupposing , confuteth , and in the person of him , iustly vpbraideth all that are subiect to the like change , or ficklenesse in minde . Among the rest some more weighty Arguments then are ( perhaps ) expected in such a subiect , are briefly , and yet somewhat seriously handled . OFt I heard tell , and now for truth I finde , Once out of sight , and quickly out of minde . And that it hath beene rightly said of old , Loue that 's soon'st hot , is euer soonest cold . Or else my teares at this time had not stain'd The spotlesse paper , nor my lines complain'd . I had not now beene forced to haue sent These for the Nuncio's of my discontent ; Or thus exchanged , so vnhappily , My songs of mirth , to write an Elegie . But now I must ; and since I must doe so , Let me but craue thou wilt not flout my woe : Nor entertaine my sorrowes with a scoffe , But at least read them , er'e thou cast them off . And though thy heart 's too hard to haue compassion , If thou l't not pitty , doe not blame my Passion . For well thou know'st ( alas that er'e 't was knowne ) There was a time ( although that time be gone ) I , that for this , scarce dare a beggar bee , Presum'd for more to haue commanded thee . Yea the Day was ( but see how things may change ) When thou and I haue not beene halfe so strange ; But oft embraced with a gentle greeting , And no worse words than Turtle . Doue , or Sweeting . Yea had thy meaning , and those vowes of thine , Prou'd but as faithfull , and as true as mine , It still had beene so : ( for I doe not faine ) I should reioyce it might be so againe . But sith thy Loue growes cold , and thou vnkinde , Be not displeas'd I somewhat breath my minde , I am in hope my words may proue a mirror , Whereon thou looking , may'st behold thine error . And yet the Heauen , and my sad heart doth know , How grieu'd I am , and with what feeling woe My minde is tortured , to thinke that I Should be the brand of thy disloyalty : Or liue , to be the author of a line , That shall be tainted with a fault of thine ; ( Since if that thou but slightly touched be , Deepe wounds of griefe , and shame , it strikes in me ) And yet I must ; ill hap compels me to What I nere thought to haue cause to doe . And therefore seeing that some angry Fate Imposes on me , what I so much hate : Or since it is so , that the Powers divine Me miserable , to such cares assigne ; Oh that Loues patron , or some sacred Muse Amongst my Passions , would such Art infuse , My well-fram'd words , and aiery sighes might proue , The happy blasts to re-inflame thy loue . Or at least touch thee with thy fault so neere , That thou mightst see thou wrongd'st , who held thee deere : Seeing , confesse the same , and so abhorre it ; Abhorring , pitty , and repent thee for it . But ( Deare ) I hope that I may call thee so , For thou art deare to me , although a foe ; Tell me , is 't true that I doe heare of thee , And by thy absence now , so seemes to bee ? Can such abuse be in thy Court of Loue , False and inconstant now , thou Hee shouldst proue ? He that so wofull , and so pensiue sate , Vowing his seruice at my feete of late ? Art thou that quondam lover , whose sad eye I never saw yet , in my presence dry ? And from whose gentle-seeming tongue I know So many pitty-moving words could flow ? Was 't thou so soughtst my loue , so seeking that As if it had beene all th'hadst aymed at ; Making me thinke thy Passion without staine , And gently quite thee with my loue againe : With this perswasion I so fairely plac'd it , Nor Time , nor Enuie should haue er'e defac'd it ▪ Is 't so ? haue I done thus much ? and art thou So over-cloyed with my favours now ? Art wearied since with loving , and estranged So far ? Is thy affection so much changed , That I of all my hopes must be deceaved , And all good thoughts of thee , be quite bereaved ? Then I finde true , which long before this day , I fear'd my selfe , and heard some wiser say ; That there is nought on earth so sweet , that can Long relish with the curious taste of Man. Happy was I ; yea well it was with me , Before I came to be bewitch't by thee . I ioy'd the sweet'st content that ever Mayd Possessed yet ; and truely well-a-paid , Made to my selfe alone , as pleasant mirth As euer any Virgin did , on earth . The melody I vs'd was free , and such , As that Bird makes , whom never hand did touch , But vn-allur'd with Fowlers , whistling flies Aboue the reach of humane treacheries . And well I do remember , often then Could I read or'e the policies of men , Discover what vncertainties they were , How they would sigh , looke sad , protest , and sweare , Nay faigne to die , when they did never proue The slendrest touch of a right worthy loue : But had chil'd hearts , whose dulnesse vnderstood No more of Passion , then they did of good . All which I noted well , and in my minde ( A generall humor amongst women-kinde ) This vow I made ; ( thinking to keepe it than ) That never the faire tongue of any man , Nor his complaint , though never so much grieu'd , Should moue my heart to liking whil'st I liu'd . But who can say what she shall liue to doe ? I haue beleeu'd , and let in liking too , And that so farre , I cannot yet see how I may so much as hope , to helpe it now ; Which makes me thinke , what e're we women say , Another minde will come , another day : And that men may to things vnhop't for clime , Who watch but Opportunity and Time. For 't is well knowne , we were not made of clay , Or such course , and ill-temper'd stuffe as they , For he that fram'd vs of their flesh , did daigne When 't was at best , to new refine 't againe . Which makes vs ever since the kinder Creatures , Of farre more flexible , and yeelding Natures . And as we oft excell in outward parts , So we haue nobler , and more gentle hearts . Which you well knowing , daily doe devise How to imprint on them your Cruelties . But doe I finde my cause thus bad indeed ? Or else on things imaginary feed ? Am I the lasse that late so truly iolly , Made my selfe merry oft , at others folly ? Am I the Nymph that Cupids fancies blam'd , That was so cold , so hard to be inflam'd ? Am I my selfe ? or is my selfe that Shee Who from this Thraldome , or such falshoods free , Late own'd mine owne heart , and full merry then , Did fore-warne others to beware of Men , And could not , hauing taught them what to doe , Now learne my selfe , to take heed of you too ? Foole that I am ; I feare my guerdon's iust , In that I knew this , and presum'd to trust . And yet ( alas ) for ought that I could tell , One sparke of goodnesse in the world might dwell . And then I thought , if such a thing might be , Why might not that one sparke remaine in thee ? For thy faire ou-tside , and thy fairer tongue , Promised much although thy yeares were yong . And Vertue , wheresoever she be now , Seem'd them to sit enthron'd vpon thy brow . Yea sure it was ; but whether 't were or no , Certaine I am I was perswaded so , Which made me loth to thinke that words of fashion Could be so fram'd , so over-laid with Passion , Or sighes so feeling fain'd from any brest ; Nay say thou hadst been false in all the rest , Yet from thine eye my heart such notice tooke , Me thought guile could not faine so sad a looke . But now I 'ue try'd , my bought experience knowes , They are oft worst that make the fairest showes . And howsoe're men faine an outward grieving , 'T is neither worth respecting , nor belieuing , For she that doth one to her mercie take , Warmes in her bosome but a frozen snake : Which heated with her favours , gathers sence , And stings her to the heart in recompence . But tell me why , and for what secret spight You in poore womens miseries delight : For so it seemes ; else why d' yee labour for That , which when 't is obtain'd , you doe ahhor ? Or to what end doe you endure such paine To winne our loue , and cast it off againe ? Oh that we either your hard hearts could borrow , Or else your strengths to helpe vs beare our sorrow ! But we are cause of all this griefe and shame , And we haue none but our owne selues to blame : For still we see your falshoods for our learning , Yet neuer can haue power to tak 't for warning ; But as if borne to be deluded by you , We know you trustlesse , and yet still we try you . ( Alas ) what wrong was in my power to doe thee ? Or what despight haue I e're done vnto thee ? That thou shouldst choose Me , aboue all the rest , To be thy scorne , and thus be made a iest . Must mens ill natures such true villains proue them , To make them only wrong those most that loue them ? Couldst thou finde none in Countrey , Towne nor Court , But onely Me , to make thy Foole , thy sport ? Thou knowst I haue no wanton courses runne , Nor seemed easie vnto lewdnesse wonne . And though I cannot boast me of much wit , Thou saw'st no signe of fondnesse in me yet . Nor did ill nature euer so ore sway me , To flout at any that did woe or pray me . But grant I had beene guilty of abusage , Of thee I 'me sure I ner'e deseru'd such vsage . But thou wer 't grieved to behold my smilings , When I was free from loue , and thy beguilings . Or to what purpose else , didst thou bestow Thy time , and study to delude me so ? Hast thou good parts ? and dost thou bend them all To bring those that ner'e hated thee in thrall ? Pretheee take heed , although thou yet enioy'st them They 'l be tooke from thee , if thou so imploy'st them . For though I wish not the least harme to thee , I feare , the iust Heavens will revenged be . Oh! what of Mee by this time had become , If my desires with thine had hapt to rome , Or I , vnwisely had consented to What ( shamelesse ) once thou didst attempt to doe ? I might haue falne , by those immodest trickes , Had not some power beene stronger then my Sex. And if I should haue so beene drawne to folly , I saw thee apt enough to be vnholy . Or if my weaknesse had beene prone to sinne , I poorely by thy strength had succour'd bin . You Men make vs beleeue you doe but try , And that 's your part ( you say ) ours to deny . Yet I much feare , if we through frailty stray , There 's few of you within your bounds will stay ; But , maugre all your seeming Vertue , bee As ready to forget your selues , as we . I might haue fear'd thy part of loue not strong , When thou didst offer me so base a wrong . And that I after loath'd thee not , did proue In me some extraordinary Loue. For sure had any other , but in thought , Presum'd vnworthily what thou hast sought , Might it appeare , I should doe thus much for him , With a scarce reconeiled hate abhorre him . My yong experience never yet did know Whether desire might range so farre , or no , To make true Louers carelesly request , What rash enioying makes them most vnblest , Or blindly , thorow frailty giue consenting To that , which done brings nothing but repenting . But in my iudgement it doth rather proue That thou art fir'd with lust , then warm'd with loue . And if it be for proofemen so proceed , It shewes a doubt , else what do trials need ? And where is that man living ever knew That false distrust , could be with loue that 's true ? Since the meere cause of that vnblam'd effect , Such an opinion is , as hates suspect . And yet I will thee , and thy loue excuse , If thou wilt neither me , nor mine abuse . For I l'e suppose thy passion made thee proffer That vnto me , thou to none else wouldst offer . And so , thinke thou ; if I haue thee deni'd , Whom I more lou'd then all men else beside . What hope haue they , such favours to obtaine , That never halfe so much respect could gaine ? Such was my loue that I did value thee Aboue all things below eternitie . Nothing on Earth vnto my heart was nearer , No joy so prized , nor no jewell dearer . Nay : I doe feare I did Idolatrize , For which Heavens wrath inflicts these miseries , And makes the things which it for blessings sent , To be renewers of my discontent . Where was there any of the Naiades , The Dryades , or the Hamadryades ? Which of the Brittish shires can yeeld againe , A mistresse of the Spring , or Wood , or Plaine ? Whose eye enioy'd more sweet contents then mine , Till I receiu'd my ouerthrow by thine ? Where 's she did more delight in Springs and Rils ? Where 's she that walk'd more Groues , or Downes , or Hils ? Or could by such faire artlesse prospects , more Adde by conceit , to her contentments store Then I ; whilst thou wert true , and with thy Gracēs Didst giue a pleasing presence to those places ? But now What is ; What was hath ouerthrowne , My Rose-deckt allies , now with Rue are strowne ; And from those flowers that honied vse to be , I sucke nought now but iuyce to poyson me . For eu'n as she , whose gentle spirit can rise To apprehend Loues noble mysteries , Spying a precious Iewell richly set , Shine in some corner of her Cabinet , Taketh delight at first to gaze vpon The pretty lustre of the sparkling stone , And pleas'd in minde , by that doth seeme to see How vertue shines through base obscuritie ; But prying neerer , seeing it doth proue Some relique of her deere deceased Loue , Which to her sad remembrance doth lay ope , What she most sought , and sees most far from hope : Fainting almost beneath her Passions weight , And quite forgetfull of her first conceit : Looking vpon 't againe , from thence shee borrowes Sad melancholy thoughts to feed her sorrowes . So I beholding Natures curious bowers , Seel'd , strow'd , and trim'd vp with leaues , hearbs , and flowers . Walke pleased on a while , and do devize How on each obiect I may moralize , But er'e I pace on many steps , I see There stands a Hawthorne that was trim'd by thee : Here thou didst once slip off the virgin spraies , To crowne me with a wreath of living Bayes . On such a Banke , I see how thou didst lye , When viewing of a shady Mulbery , The hard mishap thou didst to me discusse Of loving Thysbe , and yong Piramus : And oh ( thinke I ) how pleasing was it then , Or would be yet , might he returne agen . But if some neighbouring Row do draw me to Those Arbors , where the shadowes seeme to wooe The weary loue-sicke Passenger , to sit And view the beauties Nature strowes on it : How faire ( thinke I ) would this sweet place appeare , If he I loue , were sporting with me here ! Nay , euery seuerall obiect that I see , Doth severally ( me thinks ) remember thee . But the delight I vs'd from it to gather , I now exchange for cares , and seeke them rather . But those whose dull and grosse affections can Extend but onely to desire a Man , Cannot the depth of these rare Passions know : For their imaginations flagge too low ; And cause their base Conceits do apprehend Nothing but that whereto the flesh doth tend ; In Loues embraces they nere reach vnto More of content than the brute Creatures do . Neither can any iudge of this , but such Whose braver minds for braver thoughts do touch . And having spirits of a nobler frame , Feele the true heat of Loues vnquenched flame . They may conceiue aright what smarting sting To their Remembrances the place will bring , Where they did once enioy , and then doe misse , What to their soules most deere and pretious is . With me 't is so ; for those walkes that once seem'd Pleasing , when I of thee was more esteem'd , To me appeare most desolate and lonely , And are the places now of torment onely . Where I the highest of contents did borrow , There am I paid it home with treble sorrow . Vnto one place I doe remember well , We walkt the eu'nings to heare Phylomell : And that seemes now to want the light it had : The shadow of the Grou's more dull and sad ▪ As if it were a place but fit for Fowles That screech ill ▪ lucke ; as melancholy Owles , Or fatall Rauens , that seld ' boding good , Croke their blacke Auguries from some darke wood . Then if from thence I halfe despairing go , Another place begins another wo : For thus vnto my thought it seemes to say , Hither thou saw'st him riding once that way ; Thither to meete him thou didst nimbly hast thee , Yon he alighted , and eu'n there embrac'd thee : Which whilst I sighing wish to doe againe , Another obiect brings another paine ; For passing by that Greene , which ( could it speake ) Would tell it saw vs runne at Barly-breake ; There I beheld , what on a thin rin'd tree Thou hadst engrauen for the loue of mee ; When we two , all alone , in heate of day , With chaste embraces draue swift houres away : Then I remember too , vnto my smart , How loath we were , when time compel'd , to part ; How cunningly thy Passions thou could'st faine , In taking leaue , and comming backe againe : So oft , vntill ( as seeming to forget We were departing ) downe againe we set ; And freshly in that sweet discourse went on , Which now I almost faint to thinke vpon . Viewing againe those other Walkes , and Groues That haue beene witnesses of our chaste loues ; When I behold those Trees whose tender skin Hath that cut out , which still cuts me within . Or come by chance , vnto that pretty Rill Where thou wouldst sit , & teach the neighboring Hill To answer in an Eccho vnto those Rare Problems which thou often didst propose . When I come there ( thinke I ) if these could take That vse of words and speech which we partake , They might vnfold a thousand pleasures then Which I shall neuer liue to taste agen : And therevpon Remembrance doth so racke My thoughts , with representing what I lacke , That in my minde those Clerkes do argue well , Which hold Priuation the great'st plague of hell . For there 's no torment gripes me halfe so bad , As the Remembrance of those ioyes I had . Oh hast thou quite forgot , when sitting by The bankes of Thame , beholding how the Fry Play'd on the siluer waues ? There where I first Granted to make my Fortune thus accurst ; There where thy too-too earnest suite compeld My ouer-soone beleeuing heart to yeeld One fauour first , which then another drew To get another , till ( alas ) I rue That day and houre , thinking I nere should need ( As now ) to grieue for doing such a deed . So freely I my curtesies bestow'd That whose I was vnwarily I show'd , And to my heart such passage made for thee , Thou canst not to this day remoued be , And what breast could resist it , having seene How true thy loue had in appearance beene . For I shall ner'e forget , when thou hadst there Laid open euery discontent and care , Wherewith thou deeply seemd'st to me opprest , When thou ( as much as any could protest ) Had'st vow'd and sworne , and yet perceiu'dst no signe Of pitty-mouing in this brest of mine : Well Loue ( said'st thou ) since neither sigh nor vow , Nor any seruice may preuaile me now : Since neither the recitall of my smart , Nor those strong Passions that assaile my heart , Nor any thing may moue thee to beleefe Of these my sufferings , or to grant releefe : Since there 's no comfort , nor desert , that may Get me so much as Hope of what I pray ; Sweet Loue farewell , farewell faire beauties light , And euery pleasing obiect of the sight : My poore despairing heart here biddeth you , And all Content , for euermore adue . Then eu'n as thou seemd'st ready to depart ; Reaching that hand , which after gaue my heart , ( And thinking this sad Farewell did proceed , From a sound brest , but truely mou'd indeed ) I staied thy departing from me so , Whilst I stood mute with sorrow , thou for show . And the meane while as I beheld thy looke , My eye th' impression of such Pitty tooke , That , with the strength of Passion ouercome , A deepe fetch 't sigh my heart came breathing from : Whereat thou ( euer wisely vsing this To take aduantage when it offered is ) Renewd'st thy sute to me , who did afford Consent , in silence first , and then in word . So that for yeelding thou maist thanke thy wit : And yet when euer I remember it , Trust me , I muse , and often , wondring , thinke Thorough what craney , or what secret chinke That Loue vnwares , so like a slye close Elfe , Did to my heart insinuate it selfe . Gallants I had , before thou cam'st to woo , Could as much loue , and as well court me too ; And though they had not learned so the fashion , Of acting such well-counterfeited Passion ; In wit , and person , they did equall thee , And worthier seem'd , vnlesse thou 'lt faithfull bee . Yet still vnmou'd , vnconquer'd I remain'd , No , not one thought of loue was entertain'd : Nor could they brag of the least fauour to them , Saue what meere courtesie enioyn'd to do them . Hard was my heart : But would 't had harder bin , And then , perhaps , I had not let thee in , Thou Tyrant , that art so imperious there , And onely tak'st delight to Dominere . But held I out such strong , such oft assailing , And euer kept the honour of preuailing ? Was this poore breast from loues allurings free , Cruell to all , and gentle vnto thee ? Did I vnlocke that strong affections dore , That neuer could be broken ope before , Onely to thee ? and at thy intercession So freely giue vp all my hearts possession : That to my selfe I left not one poore veine , Nor power , nor will to put thee from 't againe ? Did I do this , and all on thy bare vow , And wilt thou thus requite my kindnesse now ? Oh that thou either hadst not learn'd to faine , Or I had power to cast thee off againe ! How is it that thon art become so rude , And ouer-blinded by Ingratitude ? Swearst thou so deeply that thou wouldst perseuer , That I might thus be cast away for euer ? Well , then t is true that Louers periuries , Among some men , are thought no iniuries : And that she , onely , hath least cause of griefe , Who of your words hath smalst , or , no beliefe . Had I the wooer bin , or fondly woon , This had bin more tho , then thou couldst haue don ; But neither being so , what Reason is On thy side , that should make thee offer this ? I know , had I beene false , or my faith faild , Thou wouldst at womens ficklenesse haue raild : And if in me it had an error bin , In thee shall the same fault be thought no sin ? Rather I hold that which is bad in mee , Will be a greater blemish vnto thee ; Because by Nature thou art made more strong , And therefore abler to endure a wrong . But t is our Fortune , you 'l haue all the power , Onely the Care , and Burthen must be our . Nor can you be content a wrong to do , Vnlesse you lay the blame vpon vs too . Oh that there were some gentle-minded Poet That knew my heart , as well as now I know it ; And would endeare me to his loue so much , To giue the world ( though but ) a slender rouch Of that sad Passion which now clogs my heart , And shew my truth , and thee how false thou art : That all might know , what is beleeu'd by no man , Ther 's ficklenesse in men , and faith in woman . Thou sawst I first let Pitty in , then liking , And lastly that which was thy onely seeking ; And when I might haue scornd that loue of thine , ( As now vngently thou despisest mine , ) Among the inmost Angles of my brest : To lodge it by my heart I thought it best : Which thou hast stolne too like a thankelesse Mate , And left me nothing but a blacke selfe-hate . What canst thou say for this , to stand contending ? What colour hast thou left for thy offending ? That wit , perhaps , hath some excuse in store , Or an euasion to escape a sore . But well I know , if thou excuse this treason , It must be by some greater thing then reason . Are any of those Vertues yet defac'd , On which thy first affection seemed plac'd ? Hath any secret foe my true faith wronged , To rob the blisse that to my heart belonged ? What then ? shall I condemned be vnheard , Before thou knowest how I may be clear'd ? Thou art acquainted with the times condition , Know'st it is full of enuy , and suspition , So that the war'est in thought , word , and action , Shall be most iniur'd by foule-mouth'd detraction : And therefore thou , me-thinks , should'st wisely pause Before thou credit rumors without cause . But I haue gotten such a confidence In thy opinion , of my innocence : It is not that , I know , with-holds thee now : Sweet , tell me then ; is it some sacred vow ? Hast thou resolued , not to ioyne thy hand With any one in Hymens holy band ? Thou shouldst haue done it then , when thou wert free , Before thou hadst bequeath'd thy selfe to mee . What vow dost deeme more pleasing vnto Heauen , Then what is by vnfaigned louers giuen ? If any be , yet sure it frowneth at Those that are made for contradicting that . But if thou wouldst liue chastely all thy life , That thou maist do , though we be man and wife : Or if thou long'st a Virgin-death to die , Why , if it be thy pleasure , so do I. Make me but thine , and I 'le ( contented ) bee A Virgin still , yet liue and lie with thee . Then let not thy inuenting braine assay To mocke , and still delude me euery way ; But call to minde , how thou hast deeply sworne Nor to neglect , nor leaue me thus forlorne . And if thou wilt not be to me as when We first did loue , do but come see me then ; Vouchsafe that I may sometime with thee walke , Or sit and looke on thee , or heare thee talke ; And I , that most content once aimed at , Will thinke there is a world of blisse in that . Dost thou suppose that my Desires denies With thy affections well to sympathize ? Or such peruersnesse hast thou found in me , May make our Natures disagreeing be ? Thou know'st when thou didst wake I could not sleep And if thou wert but sad , that I should weep . Yet euen when the teares my cheeke did staine If thou didst smile , why I could smile againe : I neuer did contrary thee in ought : Nay , thou canst tell , I oft haue spake thy thought . Waking ; the selfe-same course with thee I runne , And sleeping , oftentimes our dreames were one . The Dyall needle , though it sence doth want , Still bends to the beloued Adamant , Lift the one vp , the other vpward tends ; If this fall downe , that presently descends : Turne but about the stone , the steele turnes too ; Then straight returnes , if but the other do ; And if it stay , with trembling keepes one place , As if it panting long'd for an imbrace . So was 't with me : for if thou merry wer't , That mirth of thine , mou'd ioy within my heart : I sighed too , when thou didst sigh , or frowne ; When thou wer 't sick , thou hast perceiu'd me swoone ; And being sad , haue oft , with forc'd delight , Striu'd to giue thee content , beyond my might . When thou wouldst talk , then haue I talk'd with thee , And silent been , when thou wouldst silent be . If thou abroad didst goe , with joy I went ; If home thou lou'dst , at home was my content : Yea , what did to my Nature disagree , I could make pleasing , cause it pleased thee . But if 't be either my weake Sexe , or youth , Makes thee misdoubt my vndistained truth , Know this ; as none till that vnhappy hower , When I was first made thine , had euer power To moue my heart , by vowes , or teares expence , No more , I sweare , could any Creature since . No lookes but thine , though aim'd with Passions Art , Could pierce so deepe to penetrate my hart . No name but thine , was welcome to my eare , No word did I so soone , so gladly heare : Nor neuer could my eyes behold or see , What I was since delighted in , but thee . And sure thou wouldst beleeue it to he so , If I could tell , or words might make thee know , How many a wearie night my tumbled bed Hath knowne me sleeplesse : what salt teares I 'ue shed , What scalding sighes , the markes of soules opprest , Haue hourely breathed from my carefull brest : Nor wouldst thou deem those waking sorrowes fain'd If thou might'st see how sleeping I am pain'd . For if sometimes I chance to take a slumber , Vnwelcome dreames my broken rest doth cumber , Which dreaming makes me start , starting with feares Wakes ; and so waking I renew my cares : Vntill my eyes ore-tir'd with watch and weeping , Drownd in their owne flouds , fall againe to sleeping . Oh! that thou couldst but thinke , when last we parted , How much I , grieuing for thy absence , smarted . My very soule fell sicke , my heart to aking , As if they had their last Farewels been taking ; Or feared by some secret Diuination , This thy revolt , and causelesse alteration . Didst thou not feele how loth that hand of mine , Was to let go the hold it had of thine ? And with what heauy , what vnwilling looke , I leaue of thee , and then of comfort tooke ? I know thou didst ; and though now thus thou doe , I am deceiu'd , but then it grieu'd thee too . Then , if I so with Loues fell passion vext For thy departure onely was perplext , When I had left to strengthen me some trust , And hope , that thou would'st ne're haue prou'd vniust : What was my torture then and hard endurance , When of thy falshood I receiu'd assurance . Alas , my tongue , a while , with griefe was dumbe , And a cold shuddering did my ioynts benumme , Amazement seiz'd my thought , and so preuailed , I found me ill , but knew not what I ayled ; Nor can I yet tell , since my suffering then Was more then could be showne by Poets pen ; Or well conceiu'd by any other hart Then that which in such care hath borne a part . Oh me ; how loath was I to haue beleeu'd That to be true , for which so much I grieu'd ? How glady would I haue perswaded bin There had bin no such matter , no such sin . I would haue had my heart thinke that ( I knew To be the very truth ) not to be true . Why may not this , thought I , some vision be , Some sleeping dreame , or waking phantasie Begotten by my ouer-blinded folly , Or else engendred through my Melancholy ? But finding it so reall ( thought I ) then Must I be cast from all my hopes agen ? What are become of all those fading blisses , Which late my hope had , and now so much misses ? Where is that future fickle happinesse Which I so long expected to possesse ? And thought I too ; where are his dying Passions , His honied words , his bitter lamentations ? To what end were his Sonnets , Epigrams , His pretty Posies , witty Anagrams ? I could not thinke , all that might haue been fain'd , Nor any faith , I thought so firme , bin stain'd : Nay , I do sure and confidently know : It is not possible it should be so : If that rare Art and Passion was thine owne , Which in my presence thou hast often showne . But since thy change , my much presaging heart Is halfe afrai'd , thou some impostor wer 't : Or that thou didst but ( Player-like addrest ) Act that which flow'd from some more gentle brest . Thy puft inuention , with worse matter swolne , Those thy conceits from better wits hath stolne : Or else I know it could not be , that thou Shouldst be so ouer-cold as thou art now ; Since those , who haue that feelingly their owne , Euer possesse more worth conceal'd , then knowne . And if Loue euer any Mortals touch , To make a braue impression , 't is in such , Who sworne loues Chaplaines , will not violate That , whereunto themselues they consecrate . But oh you noble brood , on whom the world The slighted burthen of neglect hath hurl'd , ( Because your thoughts for higher obiects borne , Their groueling humors and affections scorne ) You whom the Gods , to heare your straines , will follow , Whilst you do court the sisters of Apollo . You whom there 's none that 's worthy , can neglect , Or any that vnworthy is , affect : Do not let those that seeke to doe you shame , Bewitch vs with those songs they cannot frame : The noblest of our Sexe , and fairest too , Doe euer loue and honour such as you . Then wrong vs not so much to giue your Passion To those that haue it but in imitation : And in their dull breasts neuer feele the power Of such deepe thoughts as sweetly moue in your . As well as you , they vs thereby abuse , For ( many times ) when we our Louers chuse , Where we thinke Nature that rich Iowell sets Which shines in you , we light on counterfets . But see , see whither discontentment beares me , And to what vncoth straines my Passion reares me : Yet pardon me , I here againe repent , If I haue erred through that discontent . Be what thou wilt , be counterfeit or right , Be constant , serious , or be vaine , or light , My loue remaines inviolate the same , Thou canst be nothing that can quench this flame , But it will burne as long as thou hast breath To keepe it kindled ( if not after death ) Ne're was there one more true , then I to thee And though my faith must now despised be , Vnpriz'd , vnualued at the lowest rate ; Yet this I le tell thee , 't is not all thy state , Nor all that better-seeming worth of thine , Can buy thee such another Loue as mine : Liking it may , but oh there 's as much oddes , Twixt loue and that , as betweene men and Gods : And 't is a purchase not procur'd with treasure , As some fooles think , nor to be gain'd at pleasure . For were it so , and any could assure it , What would not some men part with , to procure it ? But though thou weigh't not , as thou oughtst to doe , Thou knowst I loue , and once didst loue me too . Then where 's the cause of this dislike in thee ? Suruey thy selfe , I hope there 's none in me . Yet looke on her from whom thou art estranged ? See ; is my person , or my beauty changed ? Once thou didst praise it , prethee view 't agen , And marke if 't be not still the same 't was then : No false Uermilion ▪ dye my cheeke distaines , T is the poore blood dispierst through pores & vaines ; Which thou hast oft seen through my forehead flushing , To shew no dawby colour hid my blushing : Nor neuer shall : Vertue , I hope , will saue me , Contented with that beauty Nature gaue me : Or if 't seeme lesse , for that griefes ve●se hath hid it , Thou threw'st it on me , 't was not I that did it , And canst againe restore , what may repaire All that 's decay'd , and make me far more faire : Which if thou do , I 'le be more wary than To keep 't for thee vnblemisht , what I can ; And cause at best 't will want much of perfection , The rest shall be supply'd with true affection . But I do feare , it is some others riches , Whose more aboundance that thy minde bewitches , So that base obiect , that too generall aime , Makes thee my lesser Fortune to disclaime . Fye , canst thou so degenerate in spirit , As to prefer the meanes before the merit ? Although I cannot say it is in me , Such worth sometimes with pouerty may be To equalize the match she takes vpon her ; Tho th' other vaunt of Birth , Wealth , Beauty , Honour : And many a one that did for greatnesse wed , Would gladly change it for a meaner bed . Yet are my Fortunes knowne indifferent , Not basely meane , but such as may content : And though I yeeld the better to be thine , I may be bold to say thus much , for mine ; That if thou couldst of them and me esteeme , Neither thy state , nor birth , would mis-beseeme : Or if it did ; how can I help't ( alas ! ) Thou , not alone , before knew'st what it was . But I ( although not fearing so to speed ) Did also disinable't more than need , And yet thou woo'dst , and wooing didst perseuer , As if thou hadst intended Loue for euer : Yea , thy account of wealth thou mad'st so small , Thou had'st not any question of 't at all ; But hating much that peasant-like condition , Did'st seeme displeas'd I held it in suspition , Whereby I thinke , if nothing else do thwart vs , It cannot be the want of that will part vs. Yea , I do rather doubt indeed , that this The needlesse feare of friends displeasure is ; That is the barre that stops out my delight , And all my hope and joy confoundeth quite . But beares there any in thy heart such sway To shut me thence , and wipe thy loue away ? Can there be any friend that hath the power , To disvnite hearts so conioyn'd as our ? E're I would haue so done by thee ; I 'de rather Haue parted with one deerer then my father . For though the will of our Creator binds Each child to learne and know his parents minds , Yet sure I am , so iust a Deity . Commandeth nothing against Piety . Nor doth that band of duty giue them leaue , To violate their faith , or to deceiue . And though that Parents haue authority , To rule their children in minority ; Yet they are neuer granted such power on them , That will allow to tyrannize vpon them , Or vse them vnder their command so ill , To force them , without reason , to their will. For who hath read in all the sacred writ , Of any one compel'd to marriage ( yet ? ) Or father so vnkind ( thereto requir'd ) Deny'd his Child the match that he desir'd , So that be found the lawes did not forbid it ? I thinke those gentler ages no men did it . In those dayes therefore for them to haue bin Contracted without licence , had been sin ; Since there was more good Nature among men , And euery one more truly louing then . But now ( although we stand obliged still To labour for their liking , and good will ) There is no duty whereby they may tye vs From ought which without reason they deny vs : For I do thinke , it is not onely meant , Children should aske , but Parents should consent : And that they erre , their duty as much breaking , For not consenting , as we not for speaking . " It is no maruaile many matches be " Concluded now without their priuitie ; " Since they , through greedy Auarice misled , " Their interest in that haue forfeited . For these respectlesse of all care , do marry Hot youthfull May to cold old Ianuary . Those for some greedy end doe basely tie The sweetest faire to foule deformitie . Forcing a loue from where 't was placed late , To re-ingraffe it where it turnes to hate . It seemes no cause of hindrance in their eyes , Though manners nor affections sympathize . And two Religions by their rules of state , They may in one made body tolerate , As if they did desire that double stemme , Should fruitfull beare but Nauters like to them . Alas , how many numbers of both kindes By that haue euer discontented mindes ! And liue ( though seeming vnto others well ) In the next torments vnto those of hell . How many desprate growne by this their sinne , Haue both vndone themselues and all their kinne ? Many a one we see it makes to fall With the too-late repenting Prodigall . Thousands , though else by nature gentler giuen , To act the horridst murthers oft are driuen . And ( which is worse ) there 's many a carelesse elfe , ( Vnlesse heauen pitty ) kils and damnes himselfe . Oh what hard heart , or what vnpittying eyes , Could hold from teares to see those Tragedies , Parents by their neglect in this , haue hurld Vpon the stage of this respectlesse world ? T is not one Man , one Family , one Kinne , No nor one Countrey that hath ruin'd bin By such their Folly , which the cause hath prou'd , That forraine oft , and civill warres were mou'd By such beginnings many a Citie lies Now in the dust , whose Turrets brau'd the skies : And diuers Monarkes by such fortunes crost , Haue seene their Kingdomes fir'd , and spoil'd and lost . Yet all this while , thou seest , I mention not The ruine , shame , and chastity hath got ; For 't is a taske too infinite to tell How many thousands that would haue done well , Do by the meánes of this , suffer desires To kindle in their hearts vnlawfull fires : Nay , some in whose cold breast ne're flame had bin Haue onely for meere vengeance falne to sin . My selfe haue seene , and my heart bled to see 't , A witlesse Clowne enioy a match vnmeet . Shee was a Lasse that had a looke to moue The heart of cold Diogenes to loue : Her eye was such , whose every glaunce did know To kindle flames vpon the hils of snow ; And by her powerfull peircings could imprint , Or sparkle fire into a heart of flint : And yet , vnlesse I much deceiued be , In very thought did hate immodestie : And ( had sh'enioyd the man she could haue lou'd ) Might , to this day , haue liued vnreprou'd : But being forc'd , perforce , by seeming friends , With her consent , she her contentment ends . In that compel'd , her selfe to him she gaue , Whose bed , she rather could haue wisht her graue ; And since , I heare , what I much feare is true , That she hath bidden shame and fame adue . Such are the causes now that Parents quite Are put beside much of their ancient right : There feare of this , makes children to with-hold From giuing them those dues which else they wold : And these thou see'st are the too-fruitfull ils , Which daily spring from their vnbridled wils . Yet they , forsooth , will haue it vnderstood , That all their study , is their childrens good . A seeming Loue shall couer all they do : When , if the matter were well lok't into , Their carefull reach is chiefly to fulfill Their owne foule , greedy , and insatiate will : Who quite forgetting they were ever yong , Would haue the children dote with them on dung . Grant , betwixt two , there be true loue , content , Birth not mis-seeming , wealth sufficient , Equality in yeares , an honest fame , In euery side the person without blame , And they obedient too : What can you gather Of Loue , or of Affection , in that father , That but a little to augment his treasure , ( Perhaps , no more but only for his pleasure : ) Shall force his child to one he doth abhor , From her he loues , and iustly seeketh for ; Compelling him , ( for such mis-fortune grieu'd ) To die with care , that might with ioy haue liu'd ? This you may say is Loue , and sweare as well , There 's paines in Heauen , and delights in Hell ; Or that the Deuils fury and austerity , Proceeds out of his care of our prosperity . Would Parents ( in this age ) haue vs begin To take by their eyes , our affections in ? Or do they thinke we beare them in our fist , That we may still remoue them as they list ? It is impossible it should be thus , For we are rul'd by Loue , not Loue by vs : And so our power so much ne're reacheth to , To know where we shall loue , vntill we do . And when it comes , hide it a while we may , But 't is not in our strengths to driue't away . Either mine owne eye should my chuser be , Or I would ne're weare Hymens Liuery . For who is he so neare my heart doth rest , To know what 't is , that mine approueth best : I haue my selfe beheld those men , whose frame , And outward personages had nought of blame , They had ( what might their good proportion grace ) The much more mouing part , a comely face , With many of those complements , which wee , In common men , of the best breeding , see . They had discourse , and wit enough to carry Themselues in fashion , at an Ordinary ; Gallants they were , lou'd company and sport , Wore fauours , and had Mistresses in Court : And euery way were such that now might seeme Worthy of note , respect , and such esteeme ; Yet hath my eye more cause of liking seene , Where nought perhaps by some hath noted beene : And I haue there found more content , by farre , Where some of these perfections wanting are ; Yea so much , that their beauties were a blot To them ( me thought ) because he had them not . There some peculiar thing innated is , That beares an vncontrouled sway in this ; And nothing but it selfe knowes how to fit The minde with that which best shall suit with it . Then why should Parents thrust themselues into What they want warrant for , and power to do ? How is it they are so forgetfull growne , Of those conditions , that were once their owne ? Do they so dote amidst their wits perfection , To thinke that age and youth hath like affection ! ( When they do see 'mong those of equall yeares , One hateth what another most endeares . ) Or do they thinke their wisdomes can invent A thing to giue , that 's greater than Content ? No , neither shall they wrap vs in such blindnesse , To make vs thinke the spight they do , a kindnesse . For as I would aduise no child to stray From the least duty that he ought to pay : So would I also haue him wisely know , How much that duty is which he doth owe : That knowing what doth vnto both belong , He may do them their right , himselfe no wrong . For if my Parents him I loath should chuse , T is lawfull , yea my duty to refuse : Else , how shall I lead so vpright a life , As is enioyned to the Man and Wife ? Since that we see some time there are repentings , Eu'n where there are the most , and best contentings . What , though that by our Parents first we liue , Is not life , misery enough to giue ; Which at their births the children doth vndo , Vnlesse they adde some other mischiefe to ? Cause they gaue being to this flesh of our , Must we be therefore slaues vnto their power ? We ne're desir'd it , for how could we tell , Not being , but that not to be was well : Nor know they whom they profit by it , seeing Happy were some , if they had had no being . Indeed , had they produc'd vs without sin , Had all our duty to haue pleas'd them bin : Of the next life , could they assure the state , And both beget vs and regenerate ; There were no reason then we should withstand To vndergoe their tyranou'st command : In hope that either for our hard endurance , We should , at last , haue comfort in assurance : Or if in our endeuours we mis-sped , At least feele nothing when we should be dead . But what 's the Reason for 't that we shall be Inthral'd so much vnto Mortality ? Our soules on will of any Men to tye Vnto an euerlasting misery . So farre , perhaps too , from the good of either , We ruine them , our selues , and all together . Children owe much , I must confesse , 't is true , And a great debt is to the Parents due : Yet if they haue not so much power to craue But in their owne defence the liues they gaue : How much lesse then , should they become so cruell As to take from them the high prised Iewell Of liberty in choice , whereon depends The maine contentment that the heauen here lends ; Worth life or wealth , nay far more worth then either , Or twenty thousand liues put all together . Then howsoeuer some , seuerer bent , May deeme of my opinion , or intent , With that which followes thus conclude I do : ( And I haue Reason for 't , and Conscience too ) No Parent may his Child 's iust suite deny On his bare will , without a reason why : Nor he so vs'd , be disobedient thought , If vnapprou'd he take the match he sought . So then if that thy faith vncrazed be , Thy friends dislike shall be no stop to me : For if their will be not of force to do it , They shall haue no cause else to driue them to it . Let them bring all forth that they can alledge , We are both yong , and of the fittest age , If thou dissembledst not , both loue , and both To admit hinderance in our loues were loth . T is preiudiciall vnto none that liues , And Gods , and humane Law our warrant giues . Nor are we much vnequall in degree , Perhaps our Fortunes somewhat different be . But say that little meanes , which is , were not , The want of wealth may not dissolue this knot . For though some such preposterous courses wend , Prescribing to themselues no other end ▪ Marr'age was not ordain'd t' enrich men by , Vnlesse it were in their posterity . And he that doth for other causes wed , Ner'e knowes the true sweetes of a marriage bed : Nor shall he by my will , for 't is vnfit He should haue blisse that neuer aym'd at it . Though that bewitching gold the Rabble blinds , And is the obiect of the Vulgar minds : Yet those me thinks that graced seeme to bee , With so much good as doth appeare in thee , Should scorne , their better ▪ taught desires to tye To that , which fooles do get their honour by . I can like of the wealth I ( must confesse ) Yet more I prize the man , though mony-Iesse . I am not of their humor yet , that can For Title , or Estate , affect a Man ; Or of myselfe , one body deigne to make With him I loath , for his possessions sake . Nor wish I euer to haue that minde bred In me , that is in those ; who , when they wed , Thinke it enough they do attaine the grace Of some new honour , to fare well , take place , Weare costly clothes , in others sights agree , Or happy in opinion seeme to bee . I weigh not this : for were I sure before Of Spencers wealth , or our rich Suttons store ; Had I therewith a man , whom Nature lent Person enough to giue the eye content : If I no outward due , nor right did want , Which the best husbands in appearance grant ▪ Nay , though alone we had no priuate iarres , But merry liu'd from all domestick cares ; Vnlesse I thought his Nature so incline , That it might also sympathize with mine , ( And yeeld such correspondence with my mind , Our soules might mutually contentment find , By adding vnto these which went before , Some certaine vnexpressed pleasures more , Such as exceed the streight and curb'd dimensions ▪ Of common minds , and vulgar apprehensions ) I would not care for such a match , but tarry In this estate I am , and neuer marry . Such were the sweets I hop'd to haue possest , When Fortune should with thee haue made me blest . My heart could hardly thinke of that content To apprehend it without rauishment . Each word of thine ( me-thought ) was to my eares More pleasing then that musick , which the Spheares ( They say ) do make the Gods , when in their chime , Their motions Diapason with the time . In my conceit , the opening of thy eye , Seem'd to giue light to euery obiect by , And shed a kinde of life vnto my shew , In euery thing that was within it view . More ioy I 'ue felt to haue thee but in place , Then many doe in the most close embrace Of their beloved'st friend , which well doth proue , Not to thy body onely tends my loue . But mounting a true height , growes so diuine , It makes my soule to fall in loue with thine . And sure now whatsoer'e thy body do , Thy soule loues mine , and oft they visit too . For late I dream'd they went I know not whither , Vnlesse to Heauen , and there play'd together ; And to this day I nere could know or see , 'Twixt them or vs the least Antipathy . Then what should make thee keepe thy person hence , Or leaue to loue , or hold it in suspence ? If to offend thee I vnwares was driuen , Is 't such a fault as may not be forgiuen ? Or if by frownes of Fate I haue beene checke , So that I seeme not worth thy first respect , Shall I be therefore blamed and vpbraided , With what could not be holpen , nor auoyded ? T is not my fault : yet cause my Fortunes doe , Wilt thou be so vnkinde to wrong me too ? Not vnto Thine , but thee I set my heart , So nought can wipe my loue out while thou art : Though thou wert poorer both of house and meat , Then he that knowes not where to sleepe or eat : Though thou wert sunke into obscuritie , Become an abiect in the worlds proud eye , Though by peruersnesse of thy Fortune crost , Thou wert deformed , or some limbe had'st lost , That loue which Admiration first begot , Pitty would strengthen , that it failed not : Yea I should loue thee still , and without blame , As long as thou couldst keepe thy minde the same ; Which is of Vertues so compact ( I take it ) No mortall change shall haue the power to shake it . This may , and will ( I know ) seeme strange to those That cannot the Abyss of loue disclose , Nor must they thinke , whom but the out-side moues , Euer to apprehend such noble Loues , Or more coniecture their vnsounded measure , Then can we mortals of immortall pleasure . Then let not those dull vnconceiuing braines , Who shall hereafter come to read these straines , Suppose that no loues fire can be so great , Because it giues not their cold Clime such heat . Or thinke m'inuention could haue reached here Vnto such thoughts , vnlesse such loue there were . For then they shall but shew their knowledge weake , And iniure me , that feele of what I speake . But now my lines grow tedious , like my wrong , And as I thought that , thou thinkst this too long . Or some may deeme , I thrust my selfe into More then beseemeth modesty to do . But of the difference I am not vnwitting , Betwixt a peeuish coynes , and things vnfitting : Nothing respect I , who pries ore my doing : For here 's no vaine allurements , nor fond wooing , To traine some wanton stranger to my lure ; But with a thought that 's honest , chaste , and pure , I make my cause vnto thy conscience knowne , Suing for that which is by right my owne . In which complaint , if thou do hap to finde Any such word , as seemes to be vnkinde : Mistake me not , it but from Passion sprung , And not from an intent to do thee wrong . Or if among these doubts my sad thoughts breed , Some ( peraduenture ) may be more than need ; They are to let thee know , might we dispute , There 's no obiections but I could refute ; And spight of Enuy such defences make , Thou shouldst embrace that loue thou dost forsake . Then do not ( oh forgetfull man ) now deeme , That 't is ought else then I haue made it seeme . Or that I am vnto this Passion mou'd , Because I cannot else-where be belou'd : Or that it is thy state , whose greatnesse knowne , Makes me become a sutor for my owne : Suppose not so ; for know this day there be Some that wooe hard for what I offer thee : And I haue euer yet contented bin With that estate I first was placed in . Banish those thoughts , and turne thee to my heart , Come once againe , and be what once thou wert . Reviue me by those wonted ioyes repairing , That am nigh dead with sorrowes and despairing . So shall the memory of this annoy , But adde more sweetnesse to my future ioy ; Yea make me thinke thou meantst not to deny me , But onely wert estranged thus , to try me . And lastly , for that loues sake thou once bar'st me , By that right hand thou gau'st , hat oath thou swar'st me , By all the Passions , and ( if any be ) For her deere sake that makes thee iniure me ; I here coniure thee ; no ; intreat and sue , That if these lines do ouer-reach thy view , Thou wouldst afford me so much fauour for them ▪ As to accept , or at least not abhorre them . So though thou wholy cloake not thy disdaine , I shall haue somewhat the lesse cause to plaine : Or if thou needs must scoffe at this , or me , Do 't by thy selfe , that none may witnesse be . Not that I feare 't will bring me any blame , Onely I 'me loth the world should know my shame . For all that shall this plaint with reason view , Will iudge me faithfull , and thee most vntrue . But if Obliuion , that thy loue bereft , Hath not so much good nature in thee left , But that thou must , as most of you men doe , When you haue conquer'd , tyranize it too : Know this before , that it is praiseto no man , To wrong so fraile a Creature as a woman , And to insult or'e one , so much made thine , Will more be thy disparagement then mine . But oh ( I pray that it portend no harme , ) A chearing heate my chilled senses warmes : Iust now I flashing feele into my brest , A sudden comfort , not to be exprest ; Which to my thinking , doth againe begin To warme my heart , to let some hope come in ; It tels me , 't is impossible that thou Shouldst liue not to be mine ; It whispers how My former feares and doubts haue beene in vaine , And that thou mean'st yet to returne againe . It sayes thy absence from some cause did grow , Which , or I should not , or I could not know . It tells me now , that all those proofes , whereby I seem'd assur'd of thy disloyalty , May be but treacherous plots of some base foes , That in thy absence sought our ouerthrowes . Which if it proue ; as yet me thinks it may , Oh! what a burthen shall I cast away ? What cares shall I lay by ? and to what height Towre in my new ascension to delight ? Sure er'e the full of it I come to try , I shall eu'n surfet in my ioy , and dye . But such a losse might well be call'd a thriving , Since more is got by dying so , then living . Come kill me then , my deare , if thou thinke fit ▪ With that which never killed woman yet : Or write to me before , so shalt thou giue Content more moderate that I may liue : And when I see my staffe of trust vnbroken , I will vnspeake againe what is mis-spoken . What I haue written in dispraise of Men , I will recant , and praise as much agen ; In recompence I le adde vnto their Stories , Encomiastick lines to ymp their glories . And for those wrongs my loue to thee hath done ▪ Both I and it vnto thy Pitty runne : In whom , if the least guilt thou finde to be , For euer let thy armes imprison me . Meane while I 'le try if misery will spare Me so much respite , to take truce with care . And patiently await the doubtfull doome , Which I expect from thee should shortly come ; Much longing that I one way may be sped , And not still linger 'twixt aliue and dead . For I can neither liue yet as I should , Because I least enioy of that I would ; Nor quiet dye , because ( indeed ) I first Would see some better dayes , or know the worst . Then hasten Deare , if to my end it be , It shall be welcome , cause it comes from thee . If to renew my Comfort ought be sent , Let me not loose a minute of Content . The pretious Time is short , and will away ; Let vs enioy each other while we may . Cares thriue , Age creepeth on , Men are but shades , Ioyes lessen , Youth decayes , and Beauty fades ; New turnes come on , the old returneth neuer If we let our go past , 't is past for euer . Inter EQVITAND : PALINOD . MY Genius say what Thoughts these paintngs moue ? Thy Thoughts of Loue. What Flames are these that set my heart on fire ? Flames of Desire . What are the Meanes that these two vnderprop ? Thy earnest Hope . Then yet I 'me happy in my sweete Friends choyce . For they in depth of Passion may reioyce , Whose Thoughts and Flames and Meanes haue such blest scope . They may at once both Loue , Desire , and Hope . But tell what Fruit at last my Loue shall gaine ? Hidden Disdaine . What will that Hope proue which yet Faith keeps faire ? Hopelesse Despaire . What End will runne my Passions out of breath ? Vntimely Death . Oh me ! that Passion ioyn'd with Faith and Loue. Should with my Fortunes so vngracious proue , That she 'le no fruit , nor Hope , nor End bequeath , But cruellest Disdaine , Despaire , and Death . Then what new Study shall I now apply ? Study to Dye . How might I end my Care , and die content ? Care to Repent . And what good thoughts may make my end more holy ? Thinke on thy Folly. Well , so I will , and since my Fate may giue Nothing but discontents whilst here I liue . My Studies , Cares , and Thoughts I 'le all apply To weigh my Folly well , Repent , and Dye . Sonnets . HEnce away thou Syren leaue me , Pish vnclasp these wanton armes , Sugred words can neere deceiue me , Though thou proue a thousand charmes . Fie , fie , forbeare no common snare Can euer my affection chaine , Thy sugred baites of Loue deceits Are all bestowed on me in vaine . I haue else where vowed a dutie , Turne away thy tempting eye ; Shew not me thy painted beauty , These impostures I defie : My spirit lothes where gawdy clothes , And faigned othes , may loue obtaine , I loue her so whose lookes sweares no , That all thy labour will be vaine . I am no slaue to such as you be , Nor shall that soft snowy Brest , Rowling eye , nor lip of rubie Euer rob me of my rest . Go , go , display thy beauties ray To some more sonne enamored Swaine , Thy forced wiles of sighes and smiles Are all bestow'd on me in vaine . Can he prize the tainted posies That on others brest are worne , Which may plucke the Virgin roses From the neuer ▪ touched thorne : I can go rest on her sweet brest That is the pride of Cinthia's traine , Then stay thy tongue , thy Mermaids song Is , all bestow'd on me in vaine . He is a foole that basely dallies , Where each Pesant mates with him ; Shall I haunt the thronged vallies , When there 's noble Hills to clime : No , no , though Clownes are scar'd with frownes , I know the best can but disdaine , Then those I 'le proue , so will thy loue Be all bestow'd on me in vaine . Yet I would not daigne embraces With the fairest Queenes that be , If another shar'd those graces , Which they had bestow'd on me . I le grant that one my loue where none Shall come to rob me of my gaine , The fickle heart makes teares and art , And all bestow'd on me in vaine . I do scorne to vow a duty Where each lustfull Lad may wooe , Giue me her whose sunne-like beauty Buzzards dare not sore vnto : Shee it is affords that blisse , For which I would refuse no paine , But such as you fond fooles adieu , You seeke to captiue me in vaine . Shee that 's proud in the beginning , And disdaines each looker on , Is a Harpie in the winning , But a Turtle being woon : What ere betide she 'le neere diuide The fauour shee to one doth daine , But fondlings loues vncertaine proues , All all that trust in them are vaine . There fore-know when I enioy one , And for loue employ my breath , Shee I court shall be a coy one , Though I purchast with my death . The pleasures there few aime at dare , But if perhaps a Louer plaine , Shee is not woone nor I vndone , By placing of my loue in vaine . Leaue me then thou Syren leaue me , Take away these charmed armes , Craft thou seest can neere deceiue me , I am proofe , 'gainst womens charmes . Oft fooles assay to lead astray The heart that constant must remaine , But I the while doe sit and smile , To see them spend their loue in vaine . SHall I wasting in despaire Die because a womans faire ; Or my cheekes make pale with care , 'Cause anothers rosie are . Be shee fairer then the day , Or the flowry meedes of May , If shee be not so to me , What care I how faire shee be . Shall my foolish heart be pined , 'Cause I see a womans ●●nde , Or a well disposed nature , Ioyned in a comely feature . Be shee kinde or meeker than Turtle Doue or Pelican , If shee be not so to me , What care I how kinde shee be . Shall a womans vertues make Me to perish for her sake ; Or her merits value knowne Make me quite forget my owne . Be shee with that goodnes blest That may merit name of best , If shee seeme not so to me , What care I how good shee be . Cause her fortunes seemes too high , Should I play the foole and die ; He that beares a noble minde , If not outward helpe he finde , Thinke what with them he would doe , That without them dares to wooe . And vnlesse that minde I see , What care I how great shee be . Great , or good , or kinde , or faire , I will nere the more dispaire ; If shee loue me then beleeue I will die ere shee shall greeue If shee slight me when I wooe , I can slight and bid her goe , If shee be not fit for me , What care I how others be . FINIS . LONDON , Printed by E. G. for Thomas Walkley , and are to be sold at the signe of the Eagle & Child in Britaines Burse . 1619.