Syrenus. Who hath of Cupids cates and dainties prayed,
May feede his stomack with them at his pleasure:
If in his drinke some ease he hath assayed,
Then let him quench his thirsting without measure:
And if his weapons pleasant in their manner,
Let him embrace his standard and his banner.
For being free from him, and quite exempted:
Joyfull I am, and proud, and well contented.
Sylvanus. Of Cupids daintie cates who hath not prayed,
May be deprived of them at his pleasure:
If wormewood in his drinke he hath assayed,
Let him not quench his thirsting without measure:
And if his weapons cruell in their manner,
Let him abjure his standard and his banner:
For I not free from him, and not exempted,
Joyfull I am, and proud, and well contented.
Syrenus. Love’s so expert in giving many a trouble
That now I know not why he should be praised:
He is so false, so changing, and so double,
That with great reason he must be dispraised.
Love in the end is such a jarring passion,
That none should trust unto his peevish fashion,
For all of mischiefe he’s the onely Maister:
And to my good a torment and disaster.
Sylvanus. Love’s so expert in giving joy, not trouble,
That now I know not but he should be praised:
He is so true, so constant, never double,
That in my minde he should not be dispraised.
Love in the end is such a pleasing passion,
That every one may trust unto his fashion.
For all good he is the onely Maister:
And foe unto my harmes, and my disaster.
Syrenus. Not in these sayings to be proov’d a lyer,
He knowes that dooth not love, nor is beloved:
Now nights and dayes I rest, as I desire,
After I had such greefe from me remooved.
And cannot I be glad, since thus estraunged,
My selfe from false Diana I have chaunged?
Hence, hence, false Love, I will not entertaine thee:
Since to thy torments thou doo’st seeke to traine me.
Sylvanus. Not in these sayings to be proov’d a lyer,
He knowes that loves, and is again beloved:
Now nights and dayes I rest in sweete desire,
After I had such happy fortune prooved.
And cannot I be glad, since not estraunged,
My selfe into Selvagia I have chaunged?
Come, come, good Love, and I will entertaine thee:
Since to thy sweete content thou seek’st to traine me.
(Bartholomew Young)
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