I'm no slave to such as you be;
Nor shall that soft snowy breast,
Rolling eye, nor lip of ruby
Ever rob me of my rest.

Go, go display thy beauty's ray

To some more-soon enamoured swain ;
Thy forced wiles of sighs and smiles

Are all bestowed on me in vain.

Can he prize the tainted posies
That on other's breast are worn,
Which may pluck the virgin roses
From the never-touched thorn?
I can go rest on her sweet breast
That is the pride of Cynthia's train:

20

25

30

Then stay thy tongue; thy mermaid's song

Is all bestowed on me in vain.

He's a fool that basely dallies

Where each peasant mates with him.

Shall I haunt the thronged valleys

35

When there's noble hills to climb?

No, no; though clowns are scared with frowns,

I know the best can but disdain ;

Then those I'll prove, so will your love

Be all bestowed on me in vain.

40

But such as you, fond fools, adieu !

55

You seek to captiye me in vain.

She that's proud in the beginning
And disdains each looker-on,
Is a harpy in the winning,
But a turtle being won.

60

Whate'er betide she'll ne'er divide
The favour she to one doth deign

But fondlings' loves uncertain proves;
All, all that trust in them are vain.

Therefore know, when I enjoy one,
And for love employ my breath,
She I court shall be a coy one,
Though I purchase 't with my death.

1. 68. 1619 gives 'purchast,' 1620 'purchase.

65

The pleasures there few aim at dare ;
But if perhaps a lover plain

She is not won, nor I undone,

By placing of my love in vain.

70

Leave me, then, thou Siren, leave me ;
Take away these charmed arms;

Craft thou seest can ne'er deceive me ;
I am proof 'gainst women's charms.
Oft fools essay to lead astray

75

The heart that constant must remain ;
But I the while do sit and smile

To see them spend their love in vain.

80

MASTER JOHNSON'S ANSWER TO

MASTER WITHERS.

Withers.

SHALL I wasting in despair

Die because a woman's fair,

Or my cheeks make pale with care
'Cause another's rosy are?

Be she fairer than the day,
Or the flowery meads in May,
If she be not so to me,

What care I how fair she be?

Johnson.

Shall I mine affections slack
'Cause I see a woman's black,
Or myself with care cast down
'Cause I see a woman brown?
Be she blacker than the night,
Or the blackest jet in sight,

If she be not so to me,
What care I how black she be?
Withers.

Shall my foolish heart be pined,
'Cause I see a woman's kind,
Or a well-disposed nature
Joined in a comely feature?

Be she kind or meeker than
Turtle-dove or pelican,