I, WHO was once as great as Cæsar,
Am now reduced to Nebuchadnezzar ;
And from as famed a conqueror
As ever took degree in war,
Or did his exercise in battle,
By you turn'd out to grass with cattle:
For since I am denied access
To all my earthly happiness,
Am fallen from the paradise
Of your good graces, and fair eyes;
Lost to the world, and you, I'm sent
To everlasting banishment,
Where all the hopes I had to 'ave won
Your heart, being dash'd, will break my own.
'Yet if you were not so severe
To pass your doom before you hear,
You'd find, upon my just defence,
How much ye 'ave wrong'd my innocence.
That once I made a vow to you,
Which yet is unperform'd, 'tis true;
But not, because it is unpaid,
'Tis violated, though delay'd:
Or, if it were, it is no fault,
So heinous as you'd have it thought;
To undergo the loss of ears,
Like vulgar hackney-perjurers:
For there's a difference in the case,
Between the noble and the base;
Who always are observed to 'ave done 't
Upon as different an account;
The one for great and weighty cause,
To salve, in honour, ugly flaws;
(For none are like to do it sooner,
Than those who 're nicest of their honour :)
The other, for base gain and pay,
Forswear and perjure by the day;
And make the' exposing and retailing
Their souls and consciences, a calling.
It is no scandal nor aspersion,
Upon a great and noble person,
To say he naturally abhorr'd
The' old-fashion'd trick to keep his word,
Though 'tis perfidiousness and shame,
In meaner men, to do the same:
For to be able to forget,
Is found more useful to the great
Than gout, or deafness, or bad eyes,
To make them pass for wondrous wise.
But though the law, on perjurers,
Inflicts the forfeiture of ears,
It is not just, that does exempt
The guilty, and punish the' innocent,
To make the ears repair the wrong
Committed by the' ungovern'd tongue;
And, when one member is forsworn,
Another to be cropp'd or torn.
And if you should, as you design,
By course of law, recover mine;
You 're like, if you consider right,
To gain but little honour by 't.
For he that for his lady's sake
Lays down his life, or limbs, at stake,
Does not so much deserve her favour,
As he that pawns his soul to have her.
This you 'ave acknowledged I have done,
Although you now disdain to own;
But sentence what you rather ought
To'esteem good service than a fault.
Besides, oaths are not bound to bear
That literal sense the words infer;
But, by the practice of the age,
Are to be judged how far they' engage;
And where the sense by custom's check'd,
Are found void and of none effect;
For no man takes or keeps a vow,
But just as he sees others do;
Nor are they' obliged to be so brittle,
As not to yield and bow a little :
For as best-temper'd blades are found,
Before they break, to bend quite round;
So truest oaths are still most tough,
And, though they bow, are breaking proof.
Then wherefore should they not be' allow'd,
In love a greater latitude?
For as the law of arms approves
All ways to conquest, so should love's;
And not be tied to true or false,
But make that justest that prevails :
For how can that which is above
All empire, high and mighty love,
Submit its great prerogative
Το any other power alive?
Shall love, that to no crown gives place,
Become the subject of a case?
The fundamental law of Nature
Be over-ruled by those made after?
Commit the censure of its cause
To any, but its own great laws?
Love, that's the world's preservative,
That keeps all souls of things alive;
Controls the mighty power of Fate,
And gives mankind a longer date;
The life of Nature, that restores
As fast as Time and Death devours;
To whose free-gift the world does owe
Not only earth, but heaven too :
For love's the only trade that 's driven,
The interest of state in Heaven,
Which nothing but the soul of man
Is capable to entertain.
For what can earth produce, but love,
To represent the joys above?
Or who, but lovers, can converse,
Like angels, by the eye-discourse?
Address, and compliment, by vision;
Make love, and court by intuition?
And burn in amorous flames as fierce
As those celestial ministers?
Then how can any thing offend,
In order to so great an end?
Or Heaven itself a sin resent,
That for its own supply was meant?
That merits, in a kind mistake,
A pardon for the' offence's sake?
Or if it did not, but the cause
Were left to the' injury of laws,
What tyranny can disapprove
There should be equity in love?
For laws that are inanimate,
And feel no sense of love or hate,
That have no passion of their own,
Nor pity to be wrought upon,
Are only proper to inflict
Revenge, on criminals as strict :
But to have power to forgive,
Is empire and prerogative;
And 'tis in crowns a nobler gem
To grant a pardon than condemn.
Then, since so few do what they ought,
'Tis great to' indulge a well-meant fault;
For why should he who made address
All humble ways, without success,
And met with nothing in return
But insolence, affronts, and scorn,
Not strive by wit to countermine,
And bravely carry his design?
He who was used so' unlike a soldier,
Blown up with philtres of love-powder :
And, after letting blood, and purging,
Condemn'd to voluntary scourging ;
Alarm'd with many a horrid fright,
And claw'd by goblins in the night;
Insulted on, reviled, and jeer'd,
With rude invasion of his beard;
And, when your sex was foully scandal'd,
As foully by the rabble handled;
Attack'd by despicable foes,
And drubb'd with mean and vulgar blows;
And, after all, to be debarr'd
So much as standing on his guard;
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