By our first strange and fatall interview, By all desires which thereof did ensue, By our long starving hopes, by that remorse Which my words masculine perswasive force Begot in thee, and by the memory 5 Of hurts, which spies and rivals threatned me, I calmly beg: But by thy fathers wrath, By all paines, which want and divorcement hath, I conjure thee, and all the oathes which I And thou have sworne to seale joynt constancy, 10 Here I unsweare, and overswear them thus, Thou shalt not love by wayes so dangerous. Temper, ô faire Love, loves impetuous rage, Be my true Mistris still, not my faign'd Page; I'll goe, and, by thy kinde leave, leave behinde 15 Thee, onely worthy to nurse in my minde, Thirst to come backe; ô if thou die before, My soule from other lands to thee shall soare. Thy (else Almighty) beautie cannot move Rage from the Seas, nor thy love teach them love, 20 Nor tame wilde Boreas harshnesse; Thou hast reade How roughly hee in peeces shivered Faire Orithea, whom he swore he lov'd. Fall ill or good, 'tis madnesse to have prov'd Dangers unurg'd; Feed on this flattery, 25 That absent Lovers one in th'other be. Dissemble nothing, not a boy, nor change Thy bodies habite, nor mindes; bee not strange To thy selfe onely; All will spie in thy face A blushing womanly discovering grace; 30 Richly cloath'd Apes, are call'd Apes, and as soone Ecclips'd as bright we call the Moone the Moone. Men of France, changeable Camelions, Spittles of diseases, shops of fashions, Loves fuellers, and the rightest company 35 Of Players, which upon the worlds stage be, Will quickly know thee, and no lesse, alas! Th'indifferent Italian, as we passe His warme land, well content to thinke thee Page, Will hunt thee with such lust, and hideous rage, 40 As _Lots_ faire guests were vext. But none of these Nor spungy hydroptique Dutch shall thee displease, If thou stay here. O stay here, for, for thee England is onely a worthy Gallerie, To walke in expectation, till from thence 45 Our greatest King call thee to his presence. When I am gone, dreame me some happinesse, Nor let thy lookes our long hid love confesse, Nor praise, nor dispraise me, nor blesse nor curse Openly loves force, nor in bed fright thy Nurse 50 With midnights startings, crying out, oh, oh Nurse, ô my love is slaine, I saw him goe O'r the white Alpes alone; I saw him I, Assail'd, fight, taken, stabb'd, bleed, fall, and die. Augure me better chance, except dread _Iove_ 55 Thinke it enough for me to'have had thy love.