464. The Jimmall Ring or True-Love Knot

Thou sent'st to me a true love-knot, but IReturned a ring of jimmals to implyThy love had one knot, mine a triple tie.

Go hence, and with this parting kiss,Which joins two souls, remember this:Though thou be'st young, kind, soft, and fairAnd may'st draw thousands with a hair;Yet let these glib temptations beFuries to others, friends to me.Look upon all, and though on fireThou set their hearts, let chaste desireSteer thee to me, and think, me gone,In having all, that thou hast none.Nor so immured would I haveThee live, as dead and in thy grave;But walk abroad, yet wisely wellStand for my coming, sentinel.And think, as thou do'st walk the street,Me or my shadow thou do'st meet.I know a thousand greedy eyesWill on thy feature tyranniseIn my short absence, yet beholdThem like some picture, or some mouldFashion'd like thee, which, though 't have earsAnd eyes, it neither sees or hears.Gifts will be sent, and letters, whichAre the expressions of that itch,And salt, which frets thy suitors; flyBoth, lest thou lose thy liberty;For, that once lost, thou't fall to one,Then prostrate to a million.But if they woo thee, do thou say,As that chaste Queen of IthacaDid to her suitors, this web done,(Undone as oft as done), I'm won;I will not urge thee, for I know,Though thou art young, thou canst say no,And no again, and so denyThose thy lust-burning incubi.Let them enstyle thee fairest fair,The pearl of princes, yet despairThat so thou art, because thou mustBelieve love speaks it not, but lust;And this their flattery does commendThee chiefly for their pleasure's end.I am not jealous of thy faith,Or will be, for the axiom saith:He that doth suspect does hasteA gentle mind to be unchaste.No, live thee to thy self, and keepThy thoughts as cold as is thy sleep,And let thy dreams be only fedWith this, that I am in thy bed;And thou, then turning in that sphere,Waking shalt find me sleeping there.But yet if boundless lust must scaleThy fortress, and will needs prevail,And wildly force a passage in,Banish consent, and 'tis no sinOf thine; so Lucrece fell and theChaste Syracusian Cyane.So Medullina fell; yet noneOf these had imputationFor the least trespass, 'cause the mindHere was not with the act combin'd.The body sins not, 'tis the willThat makes the action, good or ill.And if thy fall should this way come,Triumph in such a martyrdom.I will not over-long enlargeTo thee this my religious charge.Take this compression, so by thisMeans I shall know what other kissIs mixed with mine, and truly know,Returning, if't be mine or no:Keep it till then; and now, my spouse,For my wished safety pay thy vowsAnd prayers to Venus; if it pleaseThe great blue ruler of the seas,Not many full-faced moons shall wane,Lean-horn'd, before I come againAs one triumphant, when I findIn thee all faith of womankind.Nor would I have thee think that thouHad'st power thyself to keep this vow,But, having 'scaped temptation's shelf,Know virtue taught thee, not thyself.