Cupids wrongs vindicated:
Wherein he that Cupids wiles did discover,
Is proved a false dissembling Lover.
The Mayd shewes such cause that none can her condemne,
But on the contrary the faults layd on him.
To the tune of Cupids cruell torments
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THe guilefull Crocodile
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when he his prey would gain,
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That none may spie his wile,
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A mo[u]rnfull noyse doth feigne:
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So thou false Hypocrite
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Thy foule deceipt to cover,
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Dost act the part aright
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of a distracted Lover.
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But raile no more on Love,
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Nor doe young Cupid wrong,
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For thou didst never prove
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What doth to love belong.
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Hienna-like thou feignst
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words of a dying man,
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But falsely thou complainst
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with woe I prove it can:
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For like a cheating wretch,
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thou dost on me exclaime,
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But this is but a fetch
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for thou deservst the blame.
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Why dost thou raile on love,
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Or doe, etc.
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Thou knowst I lovd thee well,
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and purposd thee to have,
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Thy conscience this can tell,
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thou false dissembling knave,
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But when I did perceive
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thy fickle wavering mind,
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Twas time to take my leave,
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and serve thee in thy kind.
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Then raile no more on love,
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Nor Cupids cruell wrong,
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For thou didst never prove
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What doth to love belong.
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Let any one that will
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be judge twixt thee and mee,
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Why should I love thee still,
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when thou lovst two or three.
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Dost thinke Ile stand at stake,
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to helpe at the last cast?
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When all doe thee forsake,
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then I must serve at last.
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O raile no more on love,
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Nor Cupids cruell wrong,
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For thou didst never prove
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What doth to love be[l]ong.
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Thou comst to me ith morne,
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and goest to Madge at night,
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Thy mind will quickly turne
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to which comes next in sight.
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Thoult promise and protest
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thou wilt have none but me,
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But when thou seest the rest
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those vowes forgotten bee.
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Then raile no more on love,
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Nor Cupids, etc.
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Dost thinke I cannot heare
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how thou playst fast and loose,
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Long Mall gave thee good cheere.
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both Cony Hen and Goose:
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Alas man I have friends
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that note thy actions well,
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Thou lovst for thine owne ends,
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but I thy knavery smell.
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Then raile no more on love.
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Nor Cupids cruell wrong,
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For thou didst never prove
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What doth to love belong.
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The second part, To the same Tune.
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I Saw last Thurseday night,
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when thou wentst to the Swan,
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With Kate and Winifrite,
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and after you came Nan,
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I know what wine you had,
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and also what was payd,
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Alas poore harmelesse lad,
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wilt thou dye for a Mayd?
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Fye raile no more on love,
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Nor Cupids cruell wrong,
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For thou didst never prove
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What does to love belong.
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I Cannot choose but smile
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to thinke how cunningly
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Thou wouldst the world beguile
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with foule hypocrisy:
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For I the wrong sustaine,
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and thou from griefe art free,
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Yet still thou dost complaine
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that I am false to thee.
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Fye never raile on love,
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Nor Cupids crue[l]l wrong,
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For thou didst never prove
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What doth to love belong.
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To either man or Mayd
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For censure Ile appeale,
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Which of us may be sayd
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disloyally to deale;
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Did ever I seeme nice
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till I was told for truth,
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More oft then once or twice,
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thou wast a faithlesse youth.
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Fye doe not raile, etc.
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Thou makst the world beleeve,
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thou for my love dost pine,
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Indeed thou sore dost grieve
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with wenches, Cakes, and wine,
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For my part tis my lot
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to pray for patience still,
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Untill I have forgot
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thy over-reaching skill.
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Then doe not raile, etc.
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Yet though I suffer wrong
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I needs must prayse thy art,
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Sure thou hast studyd long
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to act the Mad-mans part,
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Thou canst not sleep nor wake
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for fancies in thy head,
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Now I doe thee forsake
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I muse thou art not dead.
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Fye doe not raile, etc.
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That Lasse which shall have thee
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Who ere has that ill hap,
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Let her learne this of me,
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shees caught in follies trap.
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He that dissemble can
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with one in such a way.
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Heel nere prove honest man,
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beleeve me what I say.
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Then doe not raile on love,
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Nor Cupids cruell wrong,
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For thou didst never prove
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What doth to love belong.
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