ALOPE

So to you, fair Shepherdess. I know none: For well you wot it is no news with us, That men should prove inconstant. Thought's free. Let me bethink my self, I think I can: For I have thought of many things ever now. I (perhaps) May jump with your conceit, come neere't at least. Of colours there are none so opposite As white and black: and of the Elements Than fire and water none more contrary: Nor is there ought so antipathy' de in men, As what they think and speak. This then hath been the cause of women's sorrow; Men think to day ill, to do worse to morrow: Witness Amphrisa's servant. That's the reason he's grown into so deep a melancholy. wonder any woman dare trust man, nce, Like as the Chamelions change themselves unto all perfect colours saving white; they can to all humours frame their speech, e only to prove honest. Indeed light minds are catched with little things, and Fancy smells to Fennell. But I have herd, Late wit and cheated wisdom to be counted Next neighbours unto folly. Shepherds now, The holier that they seem in outward show, The hollower are their hearts. By subtle sophistry (As I have herd) the best Philosophy May be perverted. And men's flatteries Are joust Like Circe's riches, which can turn Vain glorious fools to Asses, credulous Fools To Woodcocks, pretty wanton Fools to Apes, And proud Fools into Peacocks. See, here she comes That for her self can answer. Then rouse her from these dumps. Yes, and rumoured Through all Arcadia. To wish the best, to think upon the worst, And all contingents brook with patience. S a most sovereign medicine. Patience? he is so Like to Fortitude herself, That by her sweet aspect she appears to be Her sister or her daughter. All those that are unskilful Will flatter grief Till it grow desperate. But though you know the use of Physic sweet, To taste it is unsavoury. Not so: for who can know the sweet of ease, That never was in pain? A mere relapse, Before the first be cured, to think him faithful, Were but to enter her disease anew, To make her grief more violent. Think then you had a servant, and he false; For whose sake never more trust per jured man. And though some say Jove winks at Dovers Oaths, It's (after) with broad eyes to punish them. Words should not credit men, but men their words: For he that breaks his promise lies to heaven; And whom Heaven hates, who but would fear to love Most cursed it's to flatter and forswear; And dearth of oaths is blessed barrenness. You're sick at heart: the only help for that Is, Let your heart abhor his treachery, And him, for it. You're pained too in the head, For that here's balm made or a willow wreathe. Let this charmed c ele but impale your brows, It's present help for both. Thus: All the Arcadian Swains & Nymphs that Your brows ingirt with this for saken wreathe Will take note of his falsehood, and your faith; Your innocence, and his inconstancy: And those that wear tears in their eyes for you, Of love and pity, to be thus abused, Will steep their tongues in wormwood and in gall, To brand him for his open perjury; Their pity, with your patience joined, (With this to boot) will prove and absolute cure. May, wheresoever your head you softly pillow, Be never more troubled, whilst thus wreathed in willow And Lady of our Fortune's. Our fear is, That if our rude discourse have touched your ear, The coursenesse might offend you. The Shepherd with his homespun Lass As many merry hours does pass, As Courtiers with their costly Girls, Though richly decked in gold and pearls: And though but plain, to purpose woo, Nay ofttimes with less danger too. From their Doctors The sick expect more art then eloquence: And therefore what defect you find in words, Expect in our Prescriptions.