The Anatomy of Melancholy · Chapter 93Symptoms or signs of Love Melancholy, in Body, Mind, good, bad, &c. (2)
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———egone quid velim?
Dies noctesque ames me, me desideres,
Me somnies, me expectes, me cogites,
Me speres, me te oblectes, mecum tota sis,
Meus fac postremo animus, quando ego sum tuus.
Dost ask (my dear) what service I will have?
To love me day and night is all I crave,
To dream on me, to expect, to think on me,
Depend and hope, still covet me to see,
Delight thyself in me, be wholly mine,
For know, my love, that I am wholly thine.
But all this needed not, you will say; if she affect once, she will be his, settle her love on him, on him alone,
[5332]———illum absens absentem
Auditque videtque———
she can, she must think and dream of nought else but him, continually of him, as did Orpheus on his Eurydice,
Te dulcis conjux, te solo in littore mecum,
Te veniente die, te discedente canebam.
On thee sweet wife was all my song.
Morn, evening, and all along.
And Dido upon her Aeneas;
———et quae me insomnia terrent,
Multa viri virtus, et plurima currit imago.
And ever and anon she thinks upon the man
That was so fine, so fair, so blithe, so debonair.
Clitophon, in the first book of Achilles, Tatius, complaineth how that his mistress Leucippe tormented him much more in the night than in the day. [5333]“For all day long he had some object or other to distract his senses, but in the night all ran upon her. All night long he lay [5334] awake, and could think of nothing else but her, he could not get her out of his mind; towards morning, sleep took a little pity on him, he slumbered awhile, but all his dreams were of her.”
[5335]———te nocte sub atra
Alloquor, amplector, falsaque in imagine somni,
Gaudia solicitam palpant evanida mentem.
In the dark night I speak, embrace, and find
That fading joys deceive my careful mind.
The same complaint Euryalus makes to his Lucretia, [5336]“day and night I think of thee, I wish for thee, I talk of thee, call on thee, look for thee, hope for thee, delight myself in thee, day and night I love thee.”
[5337]Nec mihi vespere
Surgente decedunt amores,
Nec rapidum fugiente solem.
Morning, evening, all is alike with me, I have restless thoughts, [5338] Te vigilans oculis, animo te nocte requiro. Still I think on thee. Anima non est ubi animat, sed ubi amat. I live and breathe in thee, I wish for thee.
[5339]O niveam quae te poterit mihi reddere lucem,
O mihi felicem terque quaterque diem.
“O happy day that shall restore thee to my sight.” In the meantime he raves on her; her sweet face, eyes, actions, gestures, hands, feet, speech, length, breadth, height, depth, and the rest of her dimensions, are so surveyed, measured, and taken, by that Astrolabe of phantasy, and that so violently sometimes, with such earnestness and eagerness, such continuance, so strong an imagination, that at length he thinks he sees her indeed; he talks with her, he embraceth her, Ixion-like, pro Junone nubem, a cloud for Juno, as he said. Nihil praeter Leucippen cerno, Leucippe mihi perpetuo in oculis, et animo versatur, I see and meditate of nought but Leucippe. Be she present or absent, all is one;
[5340]Et quamvis aberat placidae praesentia formae
Quem dederat praesens forma, manebat amor.
That impression of her beauty is still fixed in his mind,—[5341]haerent infixi pectora vultus; as he that is bitten with a mad dog thinks all he sees dogs—dogs in his meat, dogs in his dish, dogs in his drink: his mistress is in his eyes, ears, heart, in all his senses. Valleriola had a merchant, his patient, in the same predicament; and [5342]Ulricus Molitor, out of Austin, hath a story of one, that through vehemency of his love passion, still thought he saw his mistress present with him, she talked with him, Et commisceri cum ea vigilans videbatur, still embracing him.
Now if this passion of love can produce such effects, if it be pleasantly intended, what bitter torments shall it breed, when it is with fear and continual sorrow, suspicion, care, agony, as commonly it is, still accompanied, what an intolerable [5343]pain must it be?
———Non tam grandes
Gargara culmos, quot demerso
Pectore curas longa nexas
Usque catena, vel quae penitus
Crudelis amor vulnera miscet.
Mount Gargarus hath not so many stems
As lover's breast hath grievous wounds,
And linked cares, which love compounds.
When the King of Babylon would have punished a courtier of his, for loving of a young lady of the royal blood, and far above his fortunes, [5344] Apollonius in presence by all means persuaded to let him alone; “For to love and not enjoy was a most unspeakable torment,” no tyrant could invent the like punishment; as a gnat at a candle, in a short space he would consume himself. For love is a perpetual [5345]flux, angor animi, a warfare, militat omni amans, a grievous wound is love still, and a lover's heart is Cupid's quiver, a consuming [5346]fire, [5347]accede ad hunc ignem, &c. an inextinguishable fire.
[5348]———alitur et crescit malum,
Et ardet intus, qualis Aetnaeo vapor
Exundat antro———
As Aetna rageth, so doth love, and more than Aetna or any material fire.
[5349]———Nam amor saepe Lypareo
Vulcano ardentiorem flammam incendere solet.
Vulcan's flames are but smoke to this. For fire, saith [5350]Xenophon, burns them alone that stand near it, or touch it; but this fire of love burneth and scorcheth afar off, and is more hot and vehement than any material fire: [5351]Ignis in igne furit, 'tis a fire in a fire, the quintessence of fire. For when Nero burnt Rome, as Calisto urgeth, he fired houses, consumed men's bodies and goods; but this fire devours the soul itself, “and [5352]one soul is worth a hundred thousand bodies.” No water can quench this wild fire.
[5353]———In pectus coecos absorbuit ignes,
Ignes qui nec aqua perimi potuere, nec imbre
Diminui, neque graminibus, magicisque susurris.
A fire he took into his breast,
Which water could not quench.
Nor herb, nor art, nor magic spells
Could quell, nor any drench.
Except it be tears and sighs, for so they may chance find a little ease.
[5354]Sic candentia colla, sic patens frons,
Sic me blanda tui Neaera ocelli,
Sic pares minio genae perurunt,
Ut ni me lachrymae rigent perennes,
Totus in tenues eam favillas.
So thy white neck, Neaera, me poor soul
Doth scorch, thy cheeks, thy wanton eyes that roll:
Were it not for my dropping tears that hinder,
I should be quite burnt up forthwith to cinder.
This fire strikes like lightning, which made those old Grecians paint Cupid, in many of their [5355]temples, with Jupiter's thunderbolts in his hands; for it wounds, and cannot be perceived how, whence it came, where it pierced. [5356]Urimur, et coecum, pectora vulnus habent, and can hardly be discerned at first.
[5357]———Est mollis flamma medullas,
Et tacitum insano vivit sub pectore vulnus.
A gentle wound, an easy fire it was,
And sly at first, and secretly did pass.
But by-and-by it began to rage and burn amain;
[5358]———Pectus insanum vapor.
Amorque torret, intus saevus vorat
Penitus medullas, atque per venas meat
Visceribus ignis mersus, et venis latens,
Ut agilis altas flamma percurrit trabes.
This fiery vapour rageth in the veins,
And scorcheth entrails, as when fire burns
A house, it nimbly runs along the beams,
And at the last the whole it overturns.
Abraham Hoffemannus, lib. 1. amor conjugal, cap. 2. p. 22. relates out of Plato, how that Empedocles, the philosopher, was present at the cutting up of one that died for love, [5359]“his heart was combust, his liver smoky, his lungs dried up, insomuch that he verily believed his soul was either sodden or roasted through the vehemency of love's fire.” Which belike made a modern writer of amorous emblems express love's fury by a pot hanging over the fire, and Cupid blowing the coals. As the heat consumes the water, [5360]Sic sua consumit viscera coecus amor, so doth love dry up his radical moisture. Another compares love to a melting torch, which stood too near the fire.
[5361]Sic quo quis proprior suae puellae est,
Hoc stultus proprior suae runinae est.
The nearer he unto his mistress is,
The nearer he unto his ruin is.
So that to say truth, as [5362]Castilio describes it, “The beginning, middle, end of love is nought else but sorrow, vexation, agony, torment, irksomeness, wearisomeness; so that to be squalid, ugly, miserable, solitary, discontent, dejected, to wish for death, to complain, rave, and to be peevish, are the certain signs and ordinary actions of a lovesick person.” This continual pain and torture makes them forget themselves, if they be far gone with it, in doubt, despair of obtaining, or eagerly bent, to neglect all ordinary business.
[5363]———pendent opera interrupta, minaeque
Murorum ingentes, aequataque machina coelo.
Lovesick Dido left her work undone, so did [5364]Phaedra,
———Palladis telae vacant
Et inter ipsus pensa labuntur manus.
Faustus, in [5365]Mantuan, took no pleasure in anything he did,
Nulla quies mihi dulcis erat, nullus labor aegro
Pectore, sensus iners, et mens torpore sepulta,
Carminis occiderat studium.———
And 'tis the humour of them all, to be careless of their persons and their estates, as the shepherd in [5366]Theocritus, et haec barba inculta est, squalidique capilli, their beards flag, and they have no more care of pranking themselves or of any business, they care not, as they say, which end goes forward.
[5367]Oblitusque greges, et rura domestica totus
[5368]Uritur, et noctes in luctum expendit amaras,
Forgetting flocks of sheep and country farms,
The silly shepherd always mourns and burns.
Lovesick [5369]Chaerea, when he came from Pamphila's house, and had not so good welcome as he did expect, was all amort, Parmeno meets him, quid tristis es? Why art thou so sad man? unde es? whence comest, how doest? but he sadly replies, Ego hercle nescio neque unde eam, neque quorsum eam, ita prorsus oblitus sum mei, I have so forgotten myself, I neither know where I am, nor whence I come, nor whether I will, what I do. P. [5370]“How so?” Ch. “I am in love.” Prudens sciens. [5371]—vivus vidensque pereo, nec quid agam scio. [5372]“He that erst had his thoughts free” (as Philostratus Lemnius, in an epistle of his, describes this fiery passion), “and spent his time like a hard student, in those delightsome philosophical precepts; he that with the sun and moon wandered all over the world, with stars themselves ranged about, and left no secret or small mystery in nature unsearched, since he was enamoured can do nothing now but think and meditate of love matters, day and night composeth himself how to please his mistress; all his study, endeavour, is to approve himself to his mistress, to win his mistress' favour, to compass his desire, to be counted her servant.” When Peter Abelard, that great scholar of his age, Cui soli patuit scibile quicquid erat,[5373](“whose faculties were equal to any difficulty in learning,”) was now in love with Heloise, he had no mind to visit or frequent schools and scholars any more, Taediosum mihi valde fuit (as he [5374]confesseth) ad scholas procedere, vel in iis morari, all his mind was on his new mistress.
Now to this end and purpose, if there be any hope of obtaining his suit, to prosecute his cause, he will spend himself, goods, fortunes for her, and though he lose and alienate all his friends, be threatened, be cast off, and disinherited; for as the poet saith, Amori quis legem det?[5375] though he be utterly undone by it, disgraced, go a begging, yet for her sweet sake, to enjoy her, he will willingly beg, hazard all he hath, goods, lands, shame, scandal, fame, and life itself.
Non recedam neque quiescam, noctu et interdiu,
profecto quam aut ipsam, aut mortem investigavero.
I'll never rest or cease my suit
Till she or death do make me mute.
Parthenis in Aristaenetus [5376]was fully resolved to do as much. “I may have better matches, I confess, but farewell shame, farewell honour, farewell honesty, farewell friends and fortunes, &c. O, Harpedona, keep my counsel, I will leave all for his sweet sake, I will have him, say no more, contra gentes, I am resolved, I will have him.” Gobrias[5377], the captain, when, he had espied Rhodanthe, the fair captive maid, fell upon his knees before Mystilus, the general, with tears, vows, and all the rhetoric he could, by the scars he had formerly received, the good service he had done, or whatsoever else was dear unto him, besought his governor he might have the captive virgin to be his wife, virtutis suae spolium, as a reward of his worth and service; and, moreover, he would forgive him the money which was owing, and all reckonings besides due unto him, “I ask no more, no part of booty, no portion, but Rhodanthe to be my wife.” And when as he could not compass her by fair means, he fell to treachery, force and villainy, and set his life at stake at last to accomplish his desire. 'Tis a common humour this, a general passion of all lovers to be so affected, and which Aemilia told Aratine, a courtier in Castilio's discourse, “surely Aratine, if thou werst not so indeed, thou didst not love; ingenuously confess, for if thou hadst been thoroughly enamoured, thou wouldst have desired nothing more than to please thy mistress. For that is the law of love, to will and nill the same.”[5378]Tantum velle et nolle, velit nolit quod amica?[5379]
Undoubtedly this may be pronounced of them all, they are very slaves, drudges for the time, madmen, fools, dizzards, atrabilarii[5380], beside themselves, and as blind as beetles. Their dotage [5381]is most eminent, Amore simul et sapere ipsi Jovi non datur, as Seneca holds, Jupiter himself cannot love and be wise both together; the very best of them, if once they be overtaken with this passion, the most staid, discreet, grave, generous and wise, otherwise able to govern themselves, in this commit many absurdities, many indecorums, unbefitting their gravity and persons.
[5382]Quisquis amat servit, sequitur captivus amantem,
Fert domita cervice jugum———
Samson, David, Solomon, Hercules, Socrates, &c. are justly taxed of indiscretion in this point; the middle sort are between hawk and buzzard; and although they do perceive and acknowledge their own dotage, weakness, fury, yet they cannot withstand it; as well may witness those expostulations and confessions of Dido in Virgil.
[5383]Incipit effari mediaque in voce resistit.
Phaedra in Seneca.
[5384]Quod ratio poscit, vincit ac regnat furor,
Potensque tota mente dominatur deus.
Myrrha in [5385]. Ovid
Illa quidem sentit, foedoque repugnat amori,
Et secum quo mente feror, quid molior, inquit,
Dii precor, et pietas, &c.
She sees and knows her fault, and doth resist,
Against her filthy lust she doth contend.
And whither go I, what am I about?
And God forbid, yet doth it in the end.
Again,
———Per vigil igne
Carpitur indomito, furiosaque vota retrectat,
Et modo desperat, modo vult tentare, pudetque
Et cupit, et quid agat, non invenit, &c.
With raging lust she burns, and now recalls
Her vow, and then despairs, and when 'tis past,
Her former thoughts she'll prosecute in haste,
And what to do she knows not at the last.
She will and will not, abhors: and yet as Medea did, doth it,
———Trahit invitam nova via, aliudque cupido,
Mens aliud suadet; video meliora, proboque,
Deteriora sequor.———
Reason pulls one way, burning lust another,
She sees and knows what's good, but she doth neither,
O fraus, amorque, et mentis emotae furor,
quo me abstulistis?[5386]
The major part of lovers are carried headlong like so many brute beasts, reason counsels one way, thy friends, fortunes, shame, disgrace, danger, and an ocean of cares that will certainly follow; yet this furious lust precipitates, counterpoiseth, weighs down on the other; though it be their utter undoing, perpetual infamy, loss, yet they will do it, and become at last insensati, void of sense; degenerate into dogs, hogs, asses, brutes; as Jupiter into a bull, Apuleius an ass, Lycaon a wolf, Tereus a lapwing,[5387]Calisto a bear, Elpenor and Grillus info swine by Circe. For what else may we think those ingenious poets to have shadowed in their witty fictions and poems but that a man once given over to his lust (as [5388]Fulgentius interprets that of Apuleius, Alciat of Tereus) “is no better than a beast.”
Rex fueram, sic crista docet, sed sordida vita
Immundam e tanto culmine fecit avem.[5389]
I was a king, my crown my witness is,
But by my filthiness am come to this.
Their blindness is all out as great, as manifest as their weakness and dotage, or rather an inseparable companion, an ordinary sign of it, [5390] love is blind, as the saying is, Cupid's blind, and so are all his followers. Quisquis amat ranam, ranam putat esse Dianam. Every lover admires his mistress, though she be very deformed of herself, ill-favoured, wrinkled, pimpled, pale, red, yellow, tanned, tallow-faced, have a swollen juggler's platter face, or a thin, lean, chitty face, have clouds in her face, be crooked, dry, bald, goggle-eyed, blear-eyed, or with staring eyes, she looks like a squissed cat, hold her head still awry, heavy, dull, hollow-eyed, black or yellow about the eyes, or squint-eyed, sparrow-mouthed, Persian hook-nosed, have a sharp fox nose, a red nose, China flat, great nose, nare simo patuloque, a nose like a promontory, gubber-tushed, rotten teeth, black, uneven, brown teeth, beetle browed, a witch's beard, her breath stink all over the room, her nose drop winter and summer, with a Bavarian poke under her chin, a sharp chin, lave eared, with a long crane's neck, which stands awry too, pendulis mammis, “her dugs like two double jugs,” or else no dugs, in that other extreme, bloody fallen fingers, she have filthy, long unpared nails, scabbed hands or wrists, a tanned skin, a rotten carcass, crooked back, she stoops, is lame, splay-footed, “as slender in the middle as a cow in the waist,” gouty legs, her ankles hang over her shoes, her feet stink, she breed lice, a mere changeling, a very monster, an oaf imperfect, her whole complexion savours, a harsh voice, incondite gesture, vile gait, a vast virago, or an ugly tit, a slug, a fat fustilugs, a truss, a long lean rawbone, a skeleton, a sneaker (si qua latent meliora puta), and to thy judgment looks like a merd in a lantern, whom thou couldst not fancy for a world, but hatest, loathest, and wouldst have spit in her face, or blow thy nose in her bosom, remedium amoris to another man, a dowdy, a slut, a scold, a nasty, rank, rammy, filthy, beastly quean, dishonest peradventure, obscene, base, beggarly, rude, foolish, untaught, peevish, Irus' daughter, Thersites' sister, Grobians' scholar, if he love her once, he admires her for all this, he takes no notice of any such errors, or imperfections of body or mind, [5391]Ipsa haec—delectant, veluti Balbinum Polypus Agnae,; he had rather have her than any woman in the world. If he were a king, she alone should be his queen, his empress. O that he had but the wealth and treasure of both the Indies to endow her with, a carrack of diamonds, a chain of pearl, a cascanet of jewels, (a pair of calfskin gloves of four-pence a pair were fitter), or some such toy, to send her for a token, she should have it with all his heart; he would spend myriads of crowns for her sake. Venus herself, Panthea, Cleopatra, Tarquin's Tanaquil, Herod's Mariamne, or [5392]Mary of Burgundy, if she were alive, would not match her.
([5393]Vincit vultus haec Tyndarios,
Qui moverunt horrida bellla.
Let Paris himself be judge) renowned Helen comes short, that Rodopheian Phillis, Larissean Coronis, Babylonian Thisbe, Polixena, Laura, Lesbia, &c., your counterfeit ladies were never so fair as she is.
[5394]Quicquid erit placidi, lepidi, grati, atque faceti,
Vivida cunctorum retines Pandora deorum.
Whate'er is pretty, pleasant, facete, well,
Whate'er Pandora had, she doth excel.
[5395]Dicebam Trivioe formam nihil esse Dianoe. Diana was not to be compared to her, nor Juno, nor Minerva, nor any goddess. Thetis' feet were as bright as silver, the ankles of Hebe clearer than crystal, the arms of Aurora as ruddy as the rose, Juno's breasts as white as snow, Minerva wise, Venus fair; but what of this? Dainty come thou to me. She is all in all,
[5396]———Caelia ridens
Est Venus, incedens Juno, Minerva loquens.
[5397]Fairest of fair, that fairness doth excel.
Ephemerus in Aristaenetus, so far admireth his mistress' good parts, that he makes proclamation of them, and challengeth all comers in her behalf. [5398]“Whoever saw the beauties of the east, or of the west, let them come from all quarters, all, and tell truth, if ever they saw such an excellent feature as this is.” A good fellow in Petronius cries out, no tongue can [5399]tell his lady's fine feature, or express it, quicquid dixeris minus erit, &c.
No tongue can her perfections tell,
In whose each part, all tongues may dwell.
Most of your lovers are of his humour and opinion. She is nulli secunda, a rare creature, a phoenix, the sole commandress of his thoughts, queen of his desires, his only delight: as [5400]Triton now feelingly sings, that lovesick sea-god:
Candida Leucothoe placet, et placet atra Melaene,
Sed Galatea placet longe magis omnibus una.
Fair Leucothe, black Melene please me well,
But Galatea doth by odds the rest excel.
All the gracious elogies, metaphors, hyperbolical comparisons of the best things in the world, the most glorious names; whatsoever, I say, is pleasant, amiable, sweet, grateful, and delicious, are too little for her.
Phoebo pulchrior et sorore Phoebi.
His Phoebe is so fair, she is so bright,
She dims the sun's lustre, and the moon's light.
Stars, sun, moons, metals, sweet-smelling flowers, odours, perfumes, colours, gold, silver, ivory, pearls, precious stones, snow, painted birds, doves, honey, sugar, spice, cannot express her, [5401]so soft, so tender, so radiant, sweet, so fair is she.—Mollior cuniculi capillo, &c.
[5402]Lydia bella, puelia candida,
Quae bene superas lac, et lilium,
Albamque simul rosam et rubicundam,
Et expolitum ebur Indicum.
Fine Lydia, my mistress, white and fair,
The milk, the lily do not thee come near;
The rose so white, the rose so red to see,
And Indian ivory comes short of thee.
Such a description our English Homer makes of a fair lady
[5403]That Emilia that was fairer to seen,
Then is lily upon the stalk green:
And fresher then May with flowers new,
For with the rose colour strove her hue,
I no't which was the fairer of the two.
In this very phrase [5404]Polyphemus courts Galatea:
Candidior folio nivei Galatea ligustri,
Floridior prato, longa procerior alno,
Splendidior vitro, tenero lascivior haedo, &c.
Mollior et cygni plumis, et lacte coacto.
Whiter Galet than the white withie-wind,
Fresher than a field, higher than a tree,
Brighter than glass, more wanton than a kid,
Softer than swan's down, or ought that may be.
So she admires him again, in that conceited dialogue of Lucian, which John Secundus, an elegant Dutch modern poet, hath translated into verse. When Doris and those other sea nymphs upbraided her with her ugly misshapen lover, Polyphemus; she replies, they speak out of envy and malice,
[5405]Et plane invidia huc mera vos stimulare videtur.
Quod non vos itidem ut me Polyphemus amet;
Say what they could, he was a proper man. And as Heloise writ to her sweetheart Peter Abelard, Si me Augustus orbis imperator uxorem expeteret, mallem tua esse meretrix quam orbis imperatrix; she had rather be his vassal, his quean, than the world's empress or queen.—non si me Jupiter ipse forte velit,—she would not change her love for Jupiter himself.
To thy thinking she is a most loathsome creature; and as when a country fellow discommended once that exquisite picture of Helen, made by Zeuxis, [5406]for he saw no such beauty in it; Nichomachus a lovesick spectator replied, Sume tibi meos oculos et deam existimabis, take mine eyes, and thou wilt think she is a goddess, dote on her forthwith, count all her vices virtues; her imperfections infirmities, absolute and perfect: if she be flat-nosed, she is lovely; if hook-nosed, kingly; if dwarfish and little, pretty; if tall, proper and man-like, our brave British Boadicea; if crooked, wise; if monstrous, comely; her defects are no defects at all, she hath no deformities. Immo nec ipsum amicae stercus foetet, though she be nasty, fulsome, as Sostratus' bitch, or Parmeno's sow; thou hadst as live have a snake in thy bosom, a toad in thy dish, and callest her witch, devil, hag, with all the filthy names thou canst invent; he admires her on the other side, she is his idol, lady, mistress, [5407]venerilla, queen, the quintessence of beauty, an angel, a star, a goddess.
Thou art my Vesta, thou my goddess art,
Thy hallowed temple only is my heart.
The fragrancy of a thousand courtesans is in her face: [5408]Nec pulchrae effigies, haec Cypridis aut Stratonices; 'tis not Venus' picture that, nor the Spanish infanta's, as you suppose (good sir), no princess, or king's daughter: no, no, but his divine mistress, forsooth, his dainty Dulcinia, his dear Antiphila, to whose service he is wholly consecrate, whom he alone adores.
[5409]Cui comparatus indecens erit pavo,
Inamabilis sciurus, et frequens Phoenix.
To whom conferr'd a peacock's indecent,
A squirrel's harsh, a phoenix too frequent.
All the graces, veneries, elegancies, pleasures, attend her. He prefers her before a myriad of court ladies.
[5410]He that commends Phillis or Neraea,
Or Amaryllis, or Galatea,
Tityrus or Melibea, by your leave,
Let him be mute, his love the praises have.
Nay, before all the gods and goddesses themselves. So [5411]Quintus Catullus admired his squint-eyed friend Roscius.
Pace mihi liceat (Coelestes) dicere vestra,
Mortalis visus pulchrior esse Deo.
By your leave gentle Gods, this I'll say true,
There's none of you that have so fair a hue.
All the bombast epithets, pathetical adjuncts, incomparably fair, curiously neat, divine, sweet, dainty, delicious, &c., pretty diminutives, corculum, suaviolum, &c. pleasant names may be invented, bird, mouse, lamb, puss, pigeon, pigsney, kid, honey, love, dove, chicken, &c. he puts on her.
[5412]Meum mel, mea suavitas, meum cor,
Meum suaviolum, mei lepores,
“my life, my light, my jewel, my glory,” [5413]Margareta speciosa, cujus respectu omnia mundi pretiosa sordent, my sweet Margaret, my sole delight and darling. And as [5414]Rhodomant courted Isabella:
By all kind words and gestures that he might,
He calls her his dear heart, his sole beloved,
His joyful comfort, and his sweet delight.
His mistress, and his goddess, and such names,
As loving knights apply to lovely dames.
Every cloth she wears, every fashion pleaseth him above measure; her hand, O quales digitos, quos habet illa manus! pretty foot, pretty coronets, her sweet carriage, sweet voice, tone, O that pretty tone, her divine and lovely looks, her every thing, lovely, sweet, amiable, and pretty, pretty, pretty. Her very name (let it be what it will) is a most pretty, pleasing name; I believe now there is some secret power and virtue in names, every action, sight, habit, gesture; he admires, whether she play, sing, or dance, in what tires soever she goeth, how excellent it was, how well it became her, never the like seen or heard. [5415]Mille habet ornatus, mille decenter habet. Let her wear what she will, do what she will, say what she will, [5416]Quicquid enim dicit, seu facit, omne decet. He applauds and admires everything she wears, saith or doth,
[5417]Illam quicquid agit, quoquo vestigia vertit,
Composuit furtim subsequiturque decor;
Seu solvit crines, fusis decet esse capillis,
Seu compsit, comptis est reverenda comis.
Whate'er she doth, or whither e'er she go,
A sweet and pleasing grace attends forsooth;
Or loose, or bind her hair, or comb it up,
She's to be honoured in what she doth.
[5418]Vestem induitur, formosa est: exuitur, tota forma est, let her be dressed or undressed, all is one, she is excellent still, beautiful, fair, and lovely to behold. Women do as much by men; nay more, far fonder, weaker, and that by many parasangs. “Come to me my dear Lycias,” (saith Musaeus in [5419]Aristaenetus) “come quickly sweetheart, all other men are satyrs, mere clowns, blockheads to thee, nobody to thee.” Thy looks, words, gestures, actions, &c., “are incomparably beyond all others.” Venus was never so much besotted on her Adonis, Phaedra so delighted in Hippolitus, Ariadne in Theseus, Thisbe in her Pyramus, as she is enamoured on her Mopsus.
Be thou the marigold, and I will be the sun,
Be thou the friar, and I will be the nun.
I could repeat centuries of such. Now tell me what greater dotage or blindness can there be than this in both sexes? and yet their slavery is more eminent, a greater sign of their folly than the rest.
They are commonly slaves, captives, voluntary servants, Amator amicae mancipium, as [5420]Castilio terms him, his mistress' servant, her drudge, prisoner, bondman, what not? “He composeth himself wholly to her affections to please her, and, as Aemelia said, makes himself her lackey. All his cares, actions, all his thoughts, are subordinate to her will and commandment:” her most devote, obsequious, affectionate servant and vassal. “For love” (as [5421]Cyrus in Xenophon well observed) “is a mere tyranny, worse than any disease, and they that are troubled with it desire to be free and cannot, but are harder bound than if they were in iron chains.” What greater captivity or slavery can there be (as [5422]Tully expostulates) than to be in love? “Is he a free man over whom a woman domineers, to whom she prescribes laws, commands, forbids what she will herself; that dares deny nothing she demands; she asks, he gives; she calls, he comes; she threatens, he fears; Nequissimum hunc servum puto, I account this man a very drudge.” And as he follows it, [5423]“Is this no small servitude for an enamourite to be every hour combing his head, stiffening his beard, perfuming his hair, washing his face with sweet water, painting, curling, and not to come abroad but sprucely crowned, decked, and apparelled?” Yet these are but toys in respect, to go to the barber, baths, theatres, &c., he must attend upon her wherever she goes, run along the streets by her doors and windows to see her, take all opportunities, sleeveless errands, disguise, counterfeit shapes, and as many forms as Jupiter himself ever took; and come every day to her house (as he will surely do if he be truly enamoured) and offer her service, and follow her up and down from room to room, as Lucretia's suitors did, he cannot contain himself but he will do it, he must and will be where she is, sit next her, still talking with her. [5424]“If I did but let my glove fall by chance,” (as the said Aretine's Lucretia brags,) “I had one of my suitors, nay two or three at once ready to stoop and take it up, and kiss it, and with a low conge deliver it unto me; if I would walk, another was ready to sustain me by the arm. A third to provide fruits, pears, plums, cherries, or whatsoever I would eat or drink.” All this and much more he doth in her presence, and when he comes home, as Troilus to his Cressida, 'tis all his meditation to recount with himself his actions, words, gestures, what entertainment he had, how kindly she used him in such a place, how she smiled, how she graced him, and that infinitely pleased him; and then he breaks out, O sweet Areusa, O my dearest Antiphila, O most divine looks, O lovely graces, and thereupon instantly he makes an epigram, or a sonnet to five or seven tunes, in her commendation, or else he ruminates how she rejected his service, denied him a kiss, disgraced him, &c., and that as effectually torments him. And these are his exercises between comb and glass, madrigals, elegies, &c., these his cogitations till he see her again. But all this is easy and gentle, and the least part of his labour and bondage, no hunter will take such pains for his game, fowler for his sport, or soldier to sack a city, as he will for his mistress' favour.