- Shakespeare. When as thine eye hath chose the dame,
300
And stall'd the deer that thou shouldst strike,
Let reason rule things worthy blame,
As well as fancy partial might:
Take counsel of some wiser head,
Neither too young nor yet unwed.
305
- Shakespeare. And when thou comest thy tale to tell,
Smooth not thy tongue with filed talk,
Lest she some subtle practise smell,—
A cripple soon can find a halt;—
But plainly say thou lovest her well,
310
- Shakespeare. And set thy person forth to sell.
What though her frowning brows be bent,
Her cloudy looks will calm ere night:
And then too late she will repent
That thus dissembled her delight;
315 And twice desire, ere it be day,
That which with scorn she put away.
- Shakespeare. What though she strive to try her strength,
And ban and brawl, and say thee nay,
Her feeble force will yield at length,
320 When craft hath taught her thus to say,
'Had women been so strong as men,
In faith, you had not had it then.'
- Shakespeare. And to her will frame all thy ways;
Spare not to spend, and chiefly there
325 Where thy desert may merit praise,
By ringing in thy lady's ear:
The strongest castle, tower, and town,
The golden bullet beats it down.
- Shakespeare. Serve always with assured trust,
330
And in thy suit be humble true;
Unless thy lady prove unjust,
Press never thou to choose anew:
When time shall serve, be thou not slack
To proffer, though she put thee back.
335
- Shakespeare. The wiles and guiles that women work,
Dissembled with an outward show,
The tricks and toys that in them lurk,
The cock that treads them shall not know.
Have you not heard it said full oft,
340 A woman's nay doth stand for nought?
- Shakespeare. Think women still to strive with men,
To sin and never for to saint:
There is no heaven, by holy then,
When time with age doth them attaint.
345 Were kisses all the joys in bed,
One woman would another wed.
- Shakespeare. But, soft! enough, too much, I fear
Lest that my mistress hear my song,
She will not stick to round me i' the ear,
350 To teach my tongue to be so long:
Yet will she blush, here be it said,
To hear her secrets so bewray'd.
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