So have I oft been angry, faigning spight,
And counterfeiting smiles, have laught outright.
So love, by use, doth come, by use doth go,
And he that feignes well shall at length be so.
If e're thy mistris promis'd to receive thee
Into her bosome, and did then deceive thee,
Locking thy rivall in, thee out of doore,
Be not dejected, seeme not to deplore,
Nor when thou seest her next take notice of it,
But passe it over, it shall turne to profit :
For if she sees such tricks as these perplex thee,
She will be proud, and take delight to vexe thee.
But if she prove thee constant in this kind,
She will begin at length some sleights to find,
How she may draw thee back and keep thee still
A servile captive to her fickle will.

But now take heed, here comes the proofe of men,
Be thou as constant as thou seemest then:
Receive no messages, regard no lines,

They are but snares to catch thee in her twines.
Receive no gifts, thinke all that praise her flatter;
Whate're she writes, beleeve not halfe the matter.
Converse not with her servant, nor her maid,
Scarce bid good morrow, lest thou be betray'd.
When thou go'st by her doore, never look back,
And though she call, do not thy journey slack;
If she should send her friends to talk with thee,
Suffer them not too long to walke with thee.
Do not beleeve one word they say is sooth.
Nor do not aske so much as how she doth;
Yea, though thy very heart should burne to know,
Bridle thy tongue, and make thereof no show;
Thy carelesse silence shall perplex her more
Than can a thousand sighs sigh'd o're and o're;
By saying thou lovest not, thy loving prove not,
For he's far gone in love that saies I love not:
Then hold thy peace, and shortly love will die,
That wound heals best that cures not by and by.
But some will say, "Alas, this rule is hard,
Must we not love where we may find reward?
How should a tender woman beare this scorne
That cannot, without art, by men be borne?"
Mistake me not; I do not wish you show
Such a contempt to them whose love you know:
But where a scornfull lasse makes you endure
Her slight regarding, there I lay my cure,
Nor think in leaving love you wrong your lasse,
Who one to her content already has;
While she doth joy in him, joy thou in any,
Thou hast, as well as she, the choice of many.
Then, for thy own contempt, defer not long,
But cure thy selfe, and she shall have no wrong.
Among all cures I chiefly did commend
Absence in this to be the only friend.
And so it is, but I would have ye learne
The perfect use of absence to discerne.
First then, when thou art absent to her sight,
In solitarinesse do not delight:
Be seldome left alone, for then I know
A thousand vexing thoughts will come and go.
Fly lovely walkes, and uncouth places sad,
They are the nurse of thoughts that make men mad;
Walk not too much where thy fond eye may see
The place where she did give love's rights to thee:
For even the place will tell thee of those joyes,
And turne thy kisses into sad annoies.
Frequent not woods and groves, nor sit and muse
With armes acrosse, as foolish lovers use:
For as thou sitt'st alone, thou soone shalt find
Thy mistris' face presented to thy mind,

As plainly to thy troubled phantasie
As if she were in presence, and stood by.
This to eschew open thy doores all day,
Shun no man's speech that comes into thy way.
Admit all companies, and when there's none,
Then walke thou forth thy selfe, and seek out one;
When he is found, seeke more, laugh, drinke,
Rather than be alone, do any thing. [and sing;

Or if thou be constrain'd to be alone,
Have not her picture for to gaze upon :
For that's the way, when thou art eas'd of paine,,
To wound anew, and make thee sick againe.
Or if thou hast it, thinke the painter's skill
Flattered her face, and that she looks more ill;
And thinke as thou dost musing on it sit,
That she her selfe is counterfeit like it.
Or rather fly all things that are inclin'd
To bring one thought of her into thy mind.
View not her tokens, nor thinke on her words,
But take some book, whose learned wombe affords
Physic for soules, there search for some reliefe
To guile the time, and rid away thy griefe.
But if thy thoughts on her must needs be bent,
Thinke what a deale of precious time was spent
In quest of her; and that thy best of youth
Languish'd and died while she was void of truth.
Thinke but how ill she did deserve affection,
And yet how long she held thee in subjection.
Thinke how she chang'd, how ill it did became her,
And thinking so, leave love, and flie far from her.
He that from all infection would be free,
Must flie the place where the infected be.
And he that would from love's affection flie,
Must leave his mistris' walks, and not come nigh.
"Sore eyes are got by looking on sore eyes,
And wounds do soon from new-heal'd scars arise."
As embers touch'd with sulphurs do renew,
So will her sight kindle fresh flames in you.
If then thou meet'st her, suffer her go by thee,
And be afraid to let her come too nigh thee:
For her aspect will raise desire in thee,
And hungry men scarce hold from meat they see.
If e're she sent thee letters, that lie by,
Peruse them not, they'l captivate thy eye:
But lap them up, and cast them in the fire,
And wish, as they waste, so may thy desire.
If e're thou sent'st her token, gift, or letter,
Go not to fetch them back; for it is better
That she detain a little paltry pelfe, [selfe.
Than thou shouldst seeke for them, and lose thy
For why?her sight will so enchant thy heart,
That thou wilt lose thy labour, I my art.
But if by chance there fortune such a case,
Thou needs must come where she shall be in place;
Then call to mind all parts of this discourse,
For sure thou shalt have need of all thy force:
Against thou goest, curle not thy head and haire,
Nor care whether thy band be foule or faire;
Nor be not in so neat and spruce array
As if thou mean'st to make it holiday;
Neglect thy selfe for once, that she may see
Her love bath now no power to worke on thee.
And if thy rivall be in presence too,

Seeme not to marke, but do as others do;
Salute him friendly, give him gentle words,
Returne all curtesies that he affords :
Drinke to him, carve him, give him complement
This shall thy mistris, more than thee, torment:
For she will think by this, thy careless show,
Thou car'st not now whether she love or no.

But if thou canst perswade thy selfe indeed And if she bid thee home, straight promise not, She hath no lover, but of thee hath need; Or breake thy word, as if thou hadst forgot. That no man loves her but thy selfe alone,

Seeme not to care whether thou come or no, And that she shall be lost when thou art gone ; And if she be not earnest, do not go. Thus sooth thy selfe, and thou shalt seeme to be Peigne thou hast businesse, and defer the meeting, In far more happy taking than is she.

As one that greatly car'd not for her greeting, For if thou think'st she's lov'd, and loves againe, And as she talkes, cast thou thine eyes elsewhere, Hell fire will seeme more easie than thy paine: And look among the lasses that are there. But chiefly when in presence thou shalt spie Compare their severall beauties to her face, The man she most affecteth standing by,

Some one or other will her forme disgrace ; And see him graspe her by the tender hand, On both their faces carry still thy view, And whispering close, or almost kissing stand; Ballance them equally in judgement true : When thou shalt doubt whether they laugh at thee, And when thou find'st the other doth excel, Or whether on some meeting they agree;

(Yet that thou canst not love it halfe so well) If now thou canst hold out, thou art a man, Blush that thy passions make thee dote on her And canst performe more than thy teacher can: More than on those thy judgement doth prefer; If then thy heart can be at ease and free,

When thou hast let her speake all that she would, I will give o're to teach, and learne of thee. Seeme as thou hast not one word understood: But this way I would take among them all, And when to part with thee thou seest her bent, I would pick out some lasse to talke withall, Give her some ordinary complement, Whose quick inventions, and whose nimble wit, Such as may seeme of courtesie, not love; Should busie mine, and keep me from my fit: And so 10 other companie remove. My eye with all my art should be a wooing, This carelesnesse in which thou seem'st to be, No matter what I said, so I were doing ;

(Howe're in her) will worke this change in thee, For all that while my love should thinke at least That thou shalt thinke, for using her so slight, That I, as well as she, on love did feast.

She cannot chuse but turne her love to spight:
And though my heart were thinking of her face, And if thou art perswaded once she hates,
Or her unkindnesse, and my own disgrace, Thou wilt beware, and not come neere her baits &
Of all my present paines by her neglect,

But though I wish thee constantly beleeve
Yet would I laugh, and seem without respect. She hates thy sight, thy passions to deceive ;
Perchance, in envy thou shouldst sport with any, Yet be pot thou so base to hate her too,
Her beck will single thee from forth of many : That which seems ill in her do not thou do ;
But, if thou canst, of all that present are,

'Twill indiscretion seeme, and want of wit,
Her conference alone thou shouldst forbeare; Where thou didst love, to hate instead of it;
For if her looks so much thy mind do trouble, And thou maiest sbame ever to be so mated,
Her honied speeches will distract thee double. And joyn'd in love with one that should be bated a
If she begin once to confer with thee,

Such kind of love is fit for clownes and hinds, Then do as I would do, be rul'd by me:

And not for debonaire and gentle minds; When she begins to talke, imagine straight, For can there be in man a madnesse more That now to catch thee up she lies in wait ; Than hate those lips he wish'd to kisse before ? Then call to mind some businesse or affaire, Or loath to see those eyes, or heare that voice, Whose doubtfull issue takes up all thy care ; Whose very sound hath made his heart rejoice? That while such talke thy troubled fancies stirs, Such acts as these much indiscretion shows, Thy mind may wɔrke, and give no heed to hers. When men froin kissing turne to wish for blows : Alas! I know men's hearts, and that full soone, And this their own example shews so naught, By women's gentle words we are undone.

That when they should direct they must be taught If women sigh or weep, our soules are griev'd, But thou wilt say, “ For all the love I beare her, Or if they sweare they love, they are beleev'd; And all the service, I am ne're the nearer: But trust not thou to oaths if she should sweare, And which thee most of all doth vexe like Hell, Nor hearty sighs, beleeve they dwell not there. “ She lores a man ne're lov'd her halfe so well: If she should grieve in earnest, or in jest,

Him she adores, but I must not come at her, Or force her arguments with sad protest,

Have I not then good reason for to hate her ?" As if true sorrow in her eye-lid sate;

I answer, No; for make the case thine owne, Nay, if she come to weeping, trust not that ; And in thy glasse her actions shall be showne: For know, that women can both weep and smile When thou thy selfe in love wert so far gone, With much more danger than the crocodile. Say, could'st thou love any but her alone ? Thinke all she doth is but to breed thy paine, I know thou couldst not, tho' with teares and cries And get the power to tyrannize againe.

These bad made deafe thine eares, and dim thino And she will beat thy heart with trouble more

eyes: Than rocks are beat with waves upon the shore. Would'st thou for this that they bate thee againe, Do not complaine to her then of thy wrong, If so, thou wouldst then hate thy love againe : But lock thy thoughts within thy silent tongue. Your faults are both alike; thou lovest her, Tell her not why thou leav'st her, nor declare And she, in love, thy rivall doth prefer: (Although she ask thee) what thy torments are. If then her love to him thy hate procure, Wring not her fingers, gaze not on her eye, Thou shouldst for loving her like hate endure : From thence a tbousand snares and arrows flye. Then do not hate, for all the lines I write Lo, let her not perceive, by sighs or signes, Are not address'd to turne thy love to spight, How at her deeds thy inward soule repines. But writ to draw thy doting mind froin love, Seeme carelesse of her speech, and do not harke, That in the golden meane tby thoughts may Answer by chance, as though thou didst not marke.

more;.

."

THE

POEMS

OF

WILLIAM BROWNE.