I marriage would forswear, But that I hear men tell That she that dies a maid Must lead an ape in hell. Therefore, if fortune come, I will not mock and play Nor drive the bargain on Till it be driven away. Titles and lands I like, Yet rather fancy can A man that wanteth gold Than gold that wants a man. From JOHN MAYNARD's _Twelve Wonders of the World_, 1611. THE MARRIED MAN. I only am the man Among all married men That do not wish the priest, To be unlinked again. And though my shoe did wring I would not make my moan, Nor think my neighbours' chance More happy than mine own. Yet court I not my wife, But yield observance due, Being neither fond nor cross, Nor jealous nor untrue. From JOHN DOWLAND's _Second Book of Songs or Airs_, 1600. I saw my Lady weep, And sorrow proud to be advanced so In those fair eyes where all perfections keep. Her face was full of woe, But such a woe (believe me) as wins more hearts Than Mirth can do with her enticing parts. Sorrow was there made fair, And Passion wise; Tears a delightful thing; Silence beyond all speech, a wisdom rare; She made her sighs to sing, And all things with so sweet a sadness move As made my heart at once both grieve and love. O fairer than aught else The world can show, leave off in time to grieve. Enough, enough; your joyful look excels; Tears kill the heart, believe. O strive not to be excellent in woe, Which only breeds your beauty's overthrow. From JOHN WILBYE's _First Set of English Madrigals_, 1598. I sung sometime my thoughts and fancy's pleasure, Where I did list, or time served best and leisure; While Daphne did invite me To supper once, and drank to me to spite me. I smiled, but yet did doubt her, And drank where she had drunk before, to flout her; But, O! while I did eye her, Mine eyes drank love, my lips drank burning fire. From ORLANDO GIBBONS' _First Set of Madrigals_, 1612. I weigh not Fortune's frown nor smile, I joy not much in earthly joys, I seek not state, I reak [_sic_] not style, I am not fond of Fancy's toys. I rest so pleased with what I have I wish no more, no more I crave. I tremble not at noise of war, I quake not at the thunder's crack, I shrink not at a blazing star, I sound not at the news of wreck, I fear no loss, I hope no gain, I envy none, I none disdain. I see Ambition never pleased, I see some Tantals starve in store, I see gold's dropsy seldom eased, I see each Midas gape for more: I neither want nor yet abound, Enough's a feast, content is crowned.