ANSELM

What fools they are that seem most wise in love, How wise they are, that are but fools in love: Before I was a Lover, I had reason To judge of matters, censure of all sorts, Nay I had wit to call a Lover fool, And look into his folly with bright eyes, But now intruding Love dwells in my brain, And frantically hath shouldered reason thence, I am not old, and yet alas I dote: I have not lost my sighed, and yet am blind, No bondman, yet have lost my liberty, No natural fool, and yet I want my wit. What am I then, let me define my self, A doatar young, a blind man that can see, A witty fool, a bondman that is free. Now where is your instructio ̄ ? where the wench? Where are my Hope's? where your directions? How many parsons are there? What frantic humour does thus haunt my sense, Striving to breed destruction in my spirit? When I would sleep, the ghost of my sweet love, Appears unto me in and Angels shape, When I am wake, my fantasy presents As in a glass, the shadow of my love: When I would speak, her name intrudes it self Into the perfect echos of my speech. And though my thought beget some other word, Yet will my tongue speak nothing but her name: If I do meditate it is on her, If dream on her, or if discourse on her, I think her ghost does haunt me, as in times Of former darkness old wives tales report, Here comes my bitter Genius, whose advice Directs me still in all my actions. How now, from whence come you? Take here my hand & faithful heart to gage, That I will never tempt you more to sin: This my request is, since your husband dotes Upon a lewd lascivious Courtesan, Since he hath broke the bans of your chaste bed, And Like a murderer sent you to your graven, Do but go with me to my mother's house, There shall you live in secret for a space, Only to see the end of such lewd lust, And know the difference of a chaste wives bed, And one whose life is in all looseness led. My faith is pawned, o never had chaste wife, A husband of so lewd and unchaste life. 'Tis true as I relate the circumstance, And she is with my mother safe at home, But yet for all the hate I can allege Against her husband, nor for all the love That on my own partly I can urge her too, Will she be won to gratify my love. I think even as a virtuous Matron should; It may be that report may from thy mouth Beget some pity from her intie heart, And I will urge her with it presently. Yond is her husband, let us leave this walk, How full are bade thoughts of suspicion; I love, but loath my self for loving so, Yet cannot change my disposition. Hei mihi quod mellis amor est medicabilis her is. That would I gladly hear. I prithee do. And can you love him yet? And can you love him yet? Like one that strives to shun a little plash Of shallow water, and avoiding it, Plunges into a River passed his depth. Like one that from a small spark steps aside, And falls in headlong to a greater flame: I pray you to your former argument, Prescribe a means to win my best beloved. O but I cannot watch occasion, She dashes every proffer with a frown. I cannot choose but when a wench says nay, To take her at her word and leave my suit. Is't possible, I had not thought till now That women could dissemble. M. Fuller Here dwells the sacred mistress of my heart, Before her door I'll frame a frivolous walk, And spying her, with her devise some talk. I, say you so? Fair Mistress God save you. Mistress God save you. Mistress my will is not so soon expressed, Without your special favour, and the promise Ofloue and pardon if I speak amiss. Mistress I pitying that so fair a creature. Should by a villain be so foully used as you have be. Have made this bold intrusion to present My love and service to your sacred self. That villain is your husband: Whose wro ̄ gs towards you, are bruited thorough the land. Oh can you suffer at a Peasants hands Unworthy once to tuch this silken skin, To be so rudely beat and buffeted? Can you endure from such infectuous breath Able to blast your beauty, to have names Of such empoisoned hate flung in your face? Oh can you hear your never tainted fame Wounded with words of shame and infamy? Oh can you see your pleasures dealt away, And you to be debarred all partly of them, And bury it in deep oblivion? Shall your true right be still contributed Amongst hungry Bawds, insatiable Courtesans? And can you love that villain by whose deed Your soul does sighs, & your distressed heart bleed? I must persist my Love against my will, He that knows all things, knows I prove this ill. You told me of a Jest concerning that, I prithee let me hear it. Your great oath hath some exceptions: But to our former purpose, you is Mistress Arthur, We will attempt another kind of wooing, And make her hate her husband if we can. Who M. Arthur? him I saw even now At mistress Mary's the brave Courtesans. Was ever woman gulled so palpably? But Mistress Arthur think you as you say? Faith mistress Arthur I am sorry for you, And in good sooth, I wish it lay in me To remedy the least partly of these wrongs Your unkind husband daily proffers you. Fie mistress Arthur, take a better spirit, Be not so timorous to rehearse your wrongs, I say your husband haunts bade company, Swaggerers, cheaters, wanton Courtesans. There he defiles his body, stains his soul, Consumes his wealth, undoes himself and you, In danger of diseases, whose vild names Are not for any honest mouths to speak, Nor any chaste ears to receive and hear. Oh he will bring that face admired for beauty, To be more loathed then a leprous skin: Divorce your self now while the clouds grow black, Prepare your self a shelter for the storm, Abandon his most loathed fellowship: You are young mistress, will you lose your youth? Fuller. How likest thou this? Oh I shall die. Were I assurs'd that I were such a Lover, I should be with my self quite out of love: I prithee lets persuade him still to live. Uphold the Jest, but he hath spied us, peace. M. Arthur as I take it. Sir I desire you more familiar love, Would I could bid my self unto your house, For I have wished for your acquaintance long. I fear sir I shall prove too bold a guest. A thousand thanks. Yonders the schoolmaster. So till to morrow twenty times farewell. Oh this acquaintance was well scrapte of me, By this my Love to morrow I shall see. Good morrow gentlemen. Now to me; If she have either love or charity. The worst accord that could betide my love. So does my love on thee, but long no more, To her rich love, thy service is too poor. What's that he says? What mistress Arhur dead? my soul is vanished, And the world's wonder from the world quite banished: Oh I am sick, my pain grows worse and worse, I am quite struck thorough with this late discourse. And in that vault my body I will lay, I prithee leave me, thither is my way. No, no, I'll but go to the Church and pray. As ever thou didst love me, or as ever Thou didst delight in my society, By all the rights of friendship, and of love, Let me entreat thy absence but one hour, And at the hours end I will come to thee. Now it is night, & the bright lamps of heaven Are half burned out, now bright Adelbora Welcomes the cheerful Daystar to the Fast, And harmless stillness hath possessed the world. This is the Church, this hollow is the Vault, Where the dead body of my Saint remains, And this the Coffin that inshrines her body, For her bright soul is now in paradise. My coming is with no intent of sin, Or to defile the body of the dead, But rather take my last farewell of her, Or languishing and dying by her side. My airy soul post after hers to heaven, First with this latest kiss I seal my love. Her lips are warm, and I am much deceived If that she stir not: & this Golgotha, This place of dead men's bones is terrible, Presenting fearful apparitions. It is some spirit that in the Coffin lies, And makes my hair start up and end with fear, Come to thy self faint heart, she sits upright, Oh I would hide me, but I know not where; Tush if it be a spirit, 'tis a good spirit, For with her body living, ill she knew not, And with her body dead, ill cannot meddle. Oh she speaks, and by her language now I know she lives. Anselm be bold she lives, and Destiny Hath trained thee hither to redeem her life. Oh yes, a man whose heart till now was dead, Lives and survives at your return to life: Nay start not, I am Anselm, one who long Hath doted on your fair perfection, And loving you more then became me well, Was hither sent by some strange providence, To bring you from these hollow vaults below, To be a liver in the world again. Sweet Mistress, he be quath'd you to the earth, You promised him to be his wife till death, And you have kept your promise, but now since The world, your husba ̄ worser, & your friends suppose That you are dead, grant me but one request, And I will swear never to solicit more, Your sacred thoughts to my dishonest love. Is it not Mistress Marry that you mean, She that did dine with us at Arthurs house? Mistress, this gentleman hath news to tell you, And as you Like of it, so think of me. I have sworn to move this my unchaste demand no more. And yet can you love him? Yet can you love him? And can you love him yet? Oh yes, I too well know she is a woman, Henceforth my virtue shall my love withstand, And on my striving thoughts get the upper would ̄ worser. This is the day of Arthurs examination And trial for the murder of his wife: Lets hear how Justice Reason will proceed, In censuring of his strict punishment. Sir if my friend may not speak for himself Yet let me his proceedings justify. Nay that labour save. Pardon me M. Arthur, I will now Confess the former frailty of my love. Your modest wife with words I tempted oft, But neither ill I could report of you, Nor any good I could forge for my self Would win her to attend to my request: Nay after death I loved her, in so much That to the vault where she was buried, My constant love did led me thorough the dark, There ready to have taken my last farewell, The parting kiss I gave her I felt warm, Briefly, I bore her to my mother's house, Where she hath since lived the most chased & true, That since the world's creation eye did view.