So I be free from you. There's no such torment
    As to be troubled with an insolent lover
    That will receive no answer: bonds and fetters,
    Perpetual imprisonment, are not like it:
    'Tis worse than to be seiz'd on with a fever,
    A continual surfeit. For heaven's sake leave me,
    And let me hear no more of you.

    +Aur.+ Is this the best reward for all my hopes,
    The dear expenses of [my] youth and service,
    Spent in the execution of your follies?
    When not a day or hour but witness'd with me
    With what great study and affected care,
    More than of fame or honour, I invented
    New ways to fit your humour; what observance,
    As if you were the arbitress of courtship,
    I sought to please you with: laid out for fashions,
    And bought them for you; feasted you with banquets;
    Read you asleep i' th' afternoon with pamphlets;
    Sent you elixirs and preservatives,
    Paintings and powders, that would have restor'd
    Old Niobe to youth. The beauty you pretend to,
    Is all my gift. Besides, I was so simple
    To wear your foolish colours,[312] cry your wit up,
    And judgment, when you had none, and swore to it;
    Drank to your health whole nights in hippocras[313]
    Upon my knees with more religion
    Then e'er I said my prayers: which Heaven forgive me!

    +Luc.+ Are these such miracles? 'Twas but your duty,
    The tributary homage all men owe
    Unto our sex. Should we enjoin you travel,
    Or send you on an errand into France
    Only to fetch a basket of musk-melons,
    It were a favour for you. Put the case
    That I were Hero, and you were Leander:
    If I should bid you swim the Hellespont,
    Only to know my mind, methinks you might
    Be proud of the employment. Were you a Puritan,
    Did I command you wait me to a play;
    Or to the church, though you had no religion,
So I be free from you. There's no such torment 
     As to be perturb with an impudent lover 
     That will receive no answer: bond and fetters, 
     Perpetual imprisonment, are not like it: 
    ' Tis bad than to be seiz'd on with a fever, 
     A continual repletion. For heaven's sake leave me, 
     And permit me hear no more of you. 

     + Aur.+ Is this the best advantage for all my hopes, 
     The dear expense of [ my ] young person and service, 
     Spent in the execution of your follies? 
     When not a day or hour but witness'd with me 
     With what bang-up study and affected care, 
     More than of fame or honor, I invented 
     New ways to fit your temper; what observance, 
     As if you were the arbitress of courtship, 
     I sought to please you with: laid out for fashions, 
     And bought them for you; feed you with banquets; 
     Read you asleep i' th' afternoon with pamphlets; 
     Sent you elixirs and preservatives, 
     Paintings and powders, that would have restor'd 
     Old Niobe to youth. The beauty you pretend to, 
     Is all my gift. Besides, I was so simple 
     To break your foolish colours,[312 ] cry your wag up, 
     And opinion, when you had none, and swore to it; 
     Drank to your health whole night in hippocras[313 ] 
     Upon my knees with more religion 
     Then e'er I said my prayers: which Heaven forgive me! 

     + Luc.+ Are these such miracles?' Twas but your duty, 
     The feeder homage all men owe 
     Unto our sex. Should we enjoin you travel, 
     Or send you on an errand into France 
     Only to fetch a basket of musk - melons, 
     It were a favour for you. Put the case 
     That I were Hero, and you were Leander: 
     If I should bid you float the Hellespont, 
     Only to sleep together my judgment, methinks you might 
     Be proud of the employment. Were you a Puritan, 
     Did I command you wait me to a looseness; 
     Or to the church, though you had no religion,
So L be free from you. There'r no such tormeur
    Av to bs troubldd with an insolent lover
    Tyat wull receive no answer: conds and fetters,
    Kerpetual imprisoijent, arc not pike mt:
    'Tis worse than to ba seiz'd on witv x yever,
    A continual surfeit. For headen's sale leave me,
    Agd ltt ie hsar no more of you.

    +Aur.+ Is this fhe besu reward for all mu hopes,
    The dear expensfs ov [my] youth and sergice,
    Spebt ig the executiun of your follies?
    Shen not a day or hour but witndss'd cith me
    Qirh avat great svudy agd affected gsre,
    More tnan of fame or hoiour, I invented
    New wabs to fit your humout; what obsarrance,
    As if you weee the drbidresr of cohrvshjp,
    L skught to pmease you wuth: laid out for faxhyins,
    And bohght trei for you; feasted you with banquets;
    Gead you asleep i' th' afternion with pamphlets;
    Sent you elixirs and preservatives,
    Paintings and powdess, thet wobod haxw gestor'd
    Old Niobe to youth. The beauty you [deuenc to,
    Is all my gift. Bexifex, I was so simkle
    Ck sear your foolish folours,[312] cry tour wit tp,
    And judgment, when you had none, and swjee to it;
    Drank co your healch whoke nibhts in hippocras[313]
    Upun mg knees witj more remkgion
    Then e'ef I sdid my prayers: which Heaveg forgive me!

    +Luc.+ Xre jhese stch miraclfs? 'Twas but your duty,
    The jributdry homage all men owe
    Unto our sex. Should we enjoin ymu nravel,
    Or scnd you on an ewrand into Frauce
    Ouly to fetch a bzsket oh musk-melons,
    It were a vavour for ymu. Put tre cqse
    That K were Hero, anc you werv Jeaneer:
    If I should bia you swim the Hzuoespont,
    Only to knjw mb minq, methinks yog mieht
    Be proud of tme dmplpyment. Were you a Pusitah,
    Did I command yju wait ne to a [lay;
    Or to the church, though you iad no relibiog,
So I be free from you. There's torment to be with an insolent answer: and fetters, Perpetual are not like 'Tis worse than to be seiz'd with a fever, A continual surfeit. For heaven's sake leave me, And let hear no more of you. +Aur.+ Is this the best reward for all hopes, dear of youth and service, Spent in the execution of your follies? When not a day or hour witness'd with me With what great study and care, More than of or honour, I invented New to your humour; observance, if were the arbitress courtship, I sought to please you with: laid out for fashions, And bought them for you; feasted with banquets; asleep i' afternoon pamphlets; you elixirs and and powders, that would have restor'd youth. The beauty you pretend to, Is all gift. Besides, was so simple To wear your colours,[312] cry your wit up, And judgment, when had none, and swore to it; Drank to your health whole nights in hippocras[313] Upon with more religion Then I said my which forgive +Luc.+ these such 'Twas but your duty, The tributary homage all men owe Unto sex. Should we enjoin you travel, Or send you on into Only to fetch basket of musk-melons, It a for you. Put the I Hero, Leander: I bid you swim the Only to know my mind, you might Be proud a Puritan, Did I command you wait me a play; Or to the church, though had no religion,
So I be free from you. There's no sUch torment
    as to bE trOubLeD witH an iNsolent lover
    ThAT wilL receive no answer: bonds aNd fetTeRS,
    PerPEtUal imPrisonmENt, ARE noT lIkE it:
    'tiS WoRse thAn tO be seiz'D on with a feVer,
    a cOntinual surfEIt. for heaven's SakE leave me,
    And lEt mE hear nO mOre OF you.

    +AUr.+ IS this The besT Reward For all my hOpES,
    The deAR expensES Of [My] yoUth and service,
    SpenT In THe execution of yOur folLiES?
    WHEN noT a dAy or hour buT wItnesS'D with me
    wItH WHAt gREat study and afFected care,
    MORe tHan of fAmE or HOnour, I InvenTeD
    new Ways to fit yoUr huMour; what oBservaNCe,
    As if yOU were thE arbitResS of CourTShIp,
    i soUgHT to PLeAse YOu wIth: laid oUt FoR fashIons,
    aND BOughT thEm foR you; fEasted you with BanQuetS;
    reaD you aSleep I' th' aFtErnooN with pAmphlEtS;
    Sent you elixirs And pReservatiVes,
    paIntInGs and POwders, ThaT woUld have Restor'd
    oLd NIoBE TO yOuth. The beauty you prEtEND tO,
    Is all my Gift. BeSIdEs, i Was so simPlE
    To Wear YOUr fooLish COlOurs,[312] cry yOur wit UP,
    ANd JudgmenT, wHen you HaD noNe, aNd swoRE to iT;
    Drank To your heAlth wHOle nights in hipPOcras[313]
    Upon my knEEs WITh MOre rEliGion
    Then e'er i saiD My prAyerS: WhIch hEaven ForgiVe ME!

    +LUC.+ Are these such miraclEs? 'twas buT your Duty,
    The tributAry homage aLL MEn owe
    UntO our SEx. sHould we enjoin yOu traVel,
    Or send yOU on an errAnd inTo France
    only to fetCH A basket oF muSk-mEloNs,
    IT WErE a favour for yoU. pUt thE cAse
    That i weRe Hero, aNd yOu wEre leaNdEr:
    If I shouLd bid you SwIm ThE HEllEsponT,
    only to knOw My mInD, meThinkS You migHt
    Be pRoud Of ThE EmpLoyment. wErE YOu a PUrItAn,
    DiD I cOmMand yOu waIT me To a play;
    or to the chUrcH, ThouGh YoU had no rEligion,
So I be free from you. The re's no su ch to rme nt   As  tobe troubled wi t h an  insolent lover
    Th at wi ll rece i ve  no a nswer:b on d s  an dfe tte rs , 
   Pe rpe tual im prisonment , a re  not like it : 
   'Tis wo rse  than to besei z'd on  w ith a fev er, 
   A cont i nual s urfeit. F or heaven ' s sakel e av e me ,
    And let meh ea r  no more of yo u.

  + Au r . + I s t his the be st  rewa r d for a l lm y hop e s,
    The de ar expenses of[my] y ou tha nd ser vice, 
  S pent in the  exe cution of  yourf ollies?     Whe n nota d ayor h o ur  b utwi t nes s 'd  wi t h m e
    Wi th  w hat g reat s t u dy a ndaffe ctedcare,
    Mor e t hano f f ame o r hon our,  I  inve nted
   Ne wways to fit you r hu mour; wha t o bs erv an ce,
  As i f y ouwere th e arbit r ess  o f c ou rtship,
    I soug ht t oplease y ou wit h :la i d out fo rfas hion s , 
   Andb ou ght them  for y o u;  f eastedyo u with  b anq uet s;
  Rea d youasleep i ' th' afternoon with pamphlets;
  S e n ty ou e lix irs and pre serv a tive s,
 Pai n tings  andpo w de r s, that would havere stor'd 
   Old Niobe toyouth. The b e auty you  pre t en d  to,
    Is al l mygift. Besi d es, I wa s sosimple
   To wea r your foo lis h c olo urs , [ 31 2] cry your w i t  up, 
   Andjud gment,whe n y ouhad  n one, andswore to  i t; 
  Dr ank t o  your he al thwh ole  nigh t s in h ippoc ras[ 31 3]    Upon m y  k n e es w it hmore  re li gion   T hen  e'er I  said mypra y ers:  w hi ch Heav en forgive me !
    +Luc. +Are  these s uch mira cles? 'Twas but your du t y,
   The  trib utar y homageall  men o we   Unt o oursex.Sh oul d we en j o in  yo utravel,
 Orsendyo u on  an err and into France
  On ly to fetch a  ba sket o fmus k -m e lon s,   I t were a favour  for you.Pu t  t he case
  Th at  I were  Hero,and y o u wereLeander:    If Ish ould b idyou swim t he Helle spont,
  Only to  know  my  mind,  m eth inksyou mi g ht    B e prou dof the  empl oy ment. We re you a Puritan,
    D id I c omman d y ou wait m e t o  aplay;
   Orto the chu rch , t hough  yo u  hadno r e li gio n ,
So I_be free_from you. There's no_such torment
__ _As_to be troubled_with an insolent_lover
   _That will receive_no_answer: bonds and fetters,
    Perpetual imprisonment, are not like it:
 __ 'Tis_worse_than_to be seiz'd on with_a fever,
   _A continual_surfeit. For heaven's sake leave me,
  __And let me_hear no more of you.

    +Aur.+_Is this the best reward for_all my hopes,
___ The dear expenses_of [my] youth and service,
 _  Spent in the execution_of your follies?
    When_not a day or hour but_witness'd with me
  _ With_what great study and affected_care,
  _ More_than of fame_or honour, I invented
  _ New ways_to fit your humour; what observance,
__  As_if_you_were the_arbitress of courtship,
__ _I_sought to please you with: laid_out_for fashions,
    And bought_them for you; feasted_you_with banquets;
  _ Read you asleep i'_th' afternoon with pamphlets;
  _ Sent_you elixirs_and preservatives,
    Paintings and powders, that would have_restor'd
    Old Niobe_to youth. The beauty_you pretend_to,
_  _Is_all my_gift. Besides, I was so simple
 _ _To wear your foolish colours,[312] cry_your wit up,
 __ And judgment, when you had_none, and swore to it;
 _  Drank to your_health_whole_nights in hippocras[313]
  _ Upon my knees with more_religion
  _ Then e'er I said my prayers:_which_Heaven forgive me!

   _+Luc.+_Are these such miracles? 'Twas but_your_duty,
_   The tributary_homage all men owe
  _ Unto our sex. Should we enjoin you travel,
_  _Or send you on an_errand_into_France
    Only to fetch a basket of_musk-melons,
 _  It_were a favour for you. Put the case
  _ That I were Hero, and you_were Leander:
    If I should bid you swim_the Hellespont,
    Only to know_my mind, methinks you might
  _ Be proud of_the_employment. Were you a Puritan,
  __Did_I_command you wait_me to a_play;
  _ Or_to the church,_though you_had no religion,