I will not look upon the quickening sun,
But straight her beauty to my sense shall run;
The air shall note her soft, the fire, most pure;
Waters suggest her clear, and the earth sure.
Time shall not lose our passages; the spring,
How fresh our love was in the beginning;
The summer, how it ripen'd in the year;
And autumn, what our golden harvests were ; 80 The winter I'll not think on to spite thee,
But count it a lost season; so shall she.
And dearest friend, since we must part, drown night
With hope of day-burdens well borne are light— ;
The cold and darkness longer hang somewhere,
Yet Phoebus equally lights all the sphere;
And what we cannot in like portion pay
The world enjoys in mass, and so we may.
Be then ever yourself, and let no woe
Win on your health, your youth, your beauty; so 90
Declare yourself base Fortune's enemy,
No less be your contempt than her inconstancy;
That I may grow enamour'd on your mind,
When mine own thoughts I here neglected find.
And this to the comfort of my dear I vow,
My deeds shall still be what my deeds are now;
1. 79. 1639, it inripened
1. 83. Editions before 1669 omit 11. 83-94
1. 87. Haslewood-Kingsborough MS., And what he can't in like proportion pay
1. 92. Haslewood-Kingsborough MS., than constancy
The poles shall move to teach me ere I start;
And when I change my love, I'll change my heart.
Nay, if I wax but cold in my desire,
Think, heaven hath motion lost, and the world,
Much more I could, but many words have made
That oft suspected which men most persuade.
Take therefore all in this; I love so true,
As I will never look for less in you.
HARK, news, O envy; thou shalt hear descried
My Julia; who as yet was ne'er envied.
To vomit gall in slander, swell her veins
With calumny, that hell itself disdains,
Is her continual practice; does her best,
To tear opinion e'en out of the breast
Of dearest friends, and-which is worse than vile-
Sticks jealousy in wedlock; her own child
Scapes not the showers of envy. To repeat
The monstrous fashions how, were alive to eat
Dear reputation; would to God she were
But half so loth to act vice, as to hear
My mild reproof. Lived Mantuan now again
That female Mastix to limn with his pen,
1. 102. So 1669; 1635, would persuade
This she Chimera that hath eyes of fire,
Burning with anger-anger feeds desire-
Tongued like the night crow, whose ill boding cries Give out for nothing but new injuries;
Her breath like to the juice in Tænarus,
That blasts the springs, though ne'er so prosper
Her hands, I know not how, used more to spill
The food of others than herself to fill ;
But O! her mind, that Orcus, which includes
Legions of mischief, countless multitudes
Of formless curses, projects unmade up,
Abuses yet unfashion'd, thoughts corrupt,
Misshapen cavils, palpable untroths,
Inevitable errors, self-accusing loaths.
These, like those atoms swarming in the sun,
Throng in her bosom for creation.
I blush to give her half her due; yet say,
No poison's half so bad as Julia.
A TALE OF A CITIZEN AND HIS WIFE.
I SING no harm, good sooth, to any wight,
To lord or fool, cuckold, beggar, or knight,
To peace-teaching lawyer, proctor, or brave
Reformed or reduced captain, knave,
1. 28. Haslewood-Kingsborough MS., oaths
1. 2. 1669, to fool
Officer, juggler, or justice of peace,
Juror or judge; I touch no fat sow's grease;
I am no libeller, nor will be any,
But-like a true man-say there are too many.
I fear not ore tenus; for my tale
Nor count nor counsellor will look red or pale.
A citizen and his wife the other day
Both riding on one horse, upon the way
I overtook; the wench, a pretty peat,
And-by her eye-well fitting for the feat.
I saw the lecherous citizen turn back
His head, and on his wife's lip steal a smack;
Whence apprehending that the man was kind,
Riding before to kiss his wife behind,
To get acquaintance with him I began
To sort discourse fit for so fine a man ;
I ask'd the number of the plaguing bill;
Ask'd if the custom farmers held out still;
Of the Virginian plot, and whether Ward
The traffic of the island seas had marr'd;
Whether the Britain Burse did fill apace,
And likely were to give th' Exchange disgrace.
Of new-built Aldgate, and the Moor-field crosses,
Of store of bankrupts, and poor merchants' losses
I urgèd him to speak; but he-as mute
As an old courtier worn to his last suit-
1. 5. 1650, Officer, judge 1. 21. 1669, plaguy
1. 10. 1669 omits look 1. 24. 1669, Midland seas
Replies with only yeas and nays; at last
-To fit his element-my theme I cast
On tradesmen's gains; that set his tongue a-going.
"Alas! good sir," quoth he, "there is no doing
In court or city now"; she smiled, and I,
And, in my conscience, both gave him the lie
In one met thought; but he went on apace,
And at the present time with such a face
He rail'd, as fray'd me; for he gave no praise
To any but my Lord of Essex' days;
Call'd that the age of action-"True!" quoth I-
"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, whores, and scriveners.
The much of privileged kinsmen and store
Of fresh protections make the rest all poor.
In the first state of their creation
Though 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 sweat for fear of treason. And-troth-how could I less? when in the prayer
For the protection of the wise Lord Mayor,
1. 38. 1669, times
1. 41. 1669, those
1. 41. 1669, quoth he
46. 1669, whore and scrivener
1. 47. 1669, kingsmen and the store
|