157 [from Cupid’s Wrongs Vindicated]
To the tune of Cupid’s cruell torments
Thou knowst I lov’d thee well,
and purposd thee to have,
Thy conscience this can tell,
thou false dissembling knave,
5 But when I did perceive
thy fickle wavering mind,
Twas time to take my leave,
and serve thee in thy kind.
Then raile no more on love,
10 Nor Cupids cruell wrong,
For thou didst never prove
What doth to love belong.
Let any one that will
be judge twixt thee and mee,
15 Why should I love thee still,
when thou lov’st two or three.
Dost thinke Ile stand at stake,
to helpe at the last cast?
When all doe thee forsake,
20 then I must serve at last.
O raile no more on love,
Nor Cupids cruell wrong,
For thou didst never prove
What doth to love belong.
25 Thou com’st to me ith morne,
and goest to Madge at night,
Thy mind will quickly turne
to which comes next in sight.
Thou’lt promise and protest
30 thou wilt have none but me,
But when thou seest the rest
those vowes forgotten bee.
Then raile no more on love,
Nor Cupids, etc.
35 Dost thinke I cannot heare
how thou playst fast and loose,
Long Mall gave thee good cheere,
both Cony Hen and Goose:
Alas man I have friends
40 that note thy actions well,
Thou lov’st for thine owne ends,
but I thy knavery smell.
Then raile no more on love,
Nor Cupids cruell wrong,
45 For thou didst never prove
What doth to love belong.
I saw last Thurseday night,
when thou wentst to the Swan,
With Kate and Winifrite,
50 and after you came Nan,
I know what wine you had,
and also what was payd,
Alas poore harmelesse lad,
wilt thou dye for a Mayd!
55 Fye raile no more on love,
Nor Cupids cruell wrong,
For thou didst never prove
What does to love belong.
I cannot choose but smile
60 to thinke how cunningly
Thou wouldst the world beguile
with foule hypocrisy:
For I the wrong sustaine,
and thou from griefe art free,
65 Yet still thou dost complaine
that I am false to thee.
Fye never raile on love,
Nor Cupids cruell wrong,
For thou didst never prove
70 What doth to love belong.
To either man or Mayd
For censure lle appeale,
Which of us may be sayd
disloyally to deale;
75 Did ever I seeme nice
till I was told for truth,
More oft then once or twice,
thou was’t a faithlesse youth.
Fye doe not raile, etc.
80 Thou mak’st the world beleeve,
thou for my love dost pine,
Indeed thou sore dost grieve
with wenches, Cakes, and wine,
For my part tis my lot
85 to pray for patience still,
Untill I have forgot
thy over-reaching skill.
Then doe not raile, etc.
Yet though I suffer wrong
90 I needs must prayse thy art,
Sure thou hast study’d long
to act the Mad-mans part,
Thou canst not sleep nor wake
for fancies in thy head,
95 Now I doe thee forsake
I muse thou art not dead.
Fye doe not raile, etc.
That Lasse which shall have thee
Who ere has that ill hap,
100 Let her learne this of me,
shee’s caught in follies trap.
He that dissemble can
with one in such a way,
Hee’l nere prove honest man,
105 beleeve me what I say.
Then doe not raile on love,
Nor Cupids cruell wrong,
For thou didst never prove
What doth to love belong.