Love and Honour: Or, The Lovers Farevvel to Calista.
Being sent from Sea in the late Enngagemet against the Dutch, to his Mistris, under the Name of Calista. With the Ladies deploring and ingenious Answer.
To a New sad Air much in request; Or, Tune of, Now the Tyraut hath stolen.
F [...]rewel my Calista my joy and my grief,
In vain have I lov'd thee, and found no relief;
Undone by your Virtues so strict and severe,
Your eyes gave me love, but you gave me despair.
Now ca [...]d by my honour, I seek with content,
That fate which in pitty you would not prevent,
To languish in love were to find by delay,
A death that's more welcome the speediest way.
In Seas, and in Battails, mongst bullets and fire
The danger is les [...] then in hopeless desire.
The dea [...]hs wound you gave me, though far off, bear
My fa [...]l from y [...]ur sight's not to cost you a tear.
But if [...]he kind flood on a wave should convey,
And under your window my body should lay,
The wound on my breast, when you happen to see
you would say with a sigh, It was given by me,
VVhen Suitors are wounded with stabs of disdain
Tis happiness to be put out of their pain:
The grave is a place to bid torment farewel,
But Lovers are tortur'd 'twixt Heaven and Hell
VVhen frowns of a Mistriss do turn a man o're,
'Tis safer on Ship, board then 'tis on the shore:
I find by experience, though with loss of breath
'Tis worse to encounter with Cupid then Death
VVhat strength hath a Lady with cast of her eye,
To make a man live, or compel him to dye:
I Such power had Calista with smils and with frown
She'd raise me to heaven, then tumble me down,
Put dearest take care how you put faith in men,
For I fear you will never be lov'd so [...]n.
You needs must acknowledge, whilst I could draw
I was your unchangeable servant till death, breath
ONce more my last farewel I breath in a blast
The cloud on my vitals is much over-cast:
I faint, fail, I perish, and suddenly dye,
Yet sure should recover if thou wert but by:
That I nere enjoy'd thee I do not repine,
Thou liv [...]st with thy honour, and I dye with mine:
For to after ages this story will prove,
I dyed in the war for my King and my Love.
The Ladies Answer.
BLame not your Calista, nor call her your grief
'I was Honour, not she, that deny'd you relief:
Abuse not her vertues, nor term them severe,
VVho loves without honour, must look for despair.
Fow prompted by pitty I truly lament,
The force of your fate, which I could not prevent:
And languish to think that your blood should defray
The expence of your love, though so noble a way.
On Seas and in Battails that you did expire,
Was caus'd by your Valour, not hopeless desire;
Of your Fame, there acquired, I greedily hear,
And grieve when I think that it cost you so dear:
But when your sad friends shall your body convey
By my window your funeral duties to pay,
I'le sigh that your fate then I could not revers [...]
And all my kind wishes I'le shew on your Herse
VVhen Suitors petition and run upon shelves,
Or shot, if deny'd, they do murder themselves:
The grave is a couch where the vertuons remain,
VVithout expectation of sorrow or pain.
If the frown [...] of a Mistris [...] can rule a mans fate,
He values his life at a pitiful rate:
Though now she look cloudy, when she draws the sceane
VVho knows but the day-light may clear up again
The looks of a Lady you falsely do scan,
'Tis not strength in the woman, but weakness in Man
VVhen men set up Idols of flesh, blood, and bon [...]
And bow down to worship, the fault is their own.
I hope I shall ne'r be deceived by Men:
For your sake I never shall trust them agen:
'Tis fatal when Lovers do suffer such strife,
That one must lose honour, or th'other lose life
My mind never can your last farewel forget,
My tears shall confess I'le not dye in your debt:
I heartily wish I had been by your side,
That you might recover, or I might have dyed
Then both to Elezium we had been convey'd,
VVhere Ladies by Lovers are never betray'd
But in future ages in sonets they'l sing,
Twar long of your love that you dy'd for your King
Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Goldenball, in West-smithfield, neer the Hospital-gate.