A Letter of Acceptance from his Mistress.
I am not angry, wo can angry be
With him that loves a Mistress? Love is free;
But you have further aim, and seek to do,
What Jove defend, I should consent unto.
I know that too much trust hath damag'd such
As have believed me in their love too much.
Leda when she ne're dreamt of God nor Man,
Jove did surprize her, shaped like a Swan.
But you'r a Wag, I'me certain by the signes
You make at Table in the meats and wines;
How you can wanton, when your eye advances
It's brightness against mine, darting sweet glances;
How you can sigh, yet by and by can grace
With an angelick smile, your cunning face?
You are too manifest a Lover. Tush,
At such known sleights I could not chuse but blush.
Yet am I not incenst, couldst thou but be
As loyal, as th'art amorous to me
In the loves just ways; for if thou seekst to climb,
My wisht for bed, at the appointed time;
When Saffron Hymen hath concluded quite
Such covenants as belong to th'nuptial rite;
I shall inter pret kindly every sign,
And moralize them in my being thine,