Madrigal 2. Might not this be for man’s more certainty

Barnabe Barnes (1569?–1609)

MIGHT not this be for man’s more certainty,

By Nature’s laws enactit,

That those which do true meaning falsify,

Making such bargains as were precontractit,

Should forfeit freelege of love’s tenancy

To th’ plaintiff grieved, if he exact it.

Think on my love, thy faith! yet hast thou cracked it.

Nor Nature, Reason, Love, nor Faith can make thee

To pity me! My prisoned heart to pity,

Sighs, no fit incense, nor my plaints can wake thee!

Thy nose, from savour, and thine ears, from sound

Stopped and obdurate, nought could shake thee!

Think on, when thou such pleasure found

To read my lines! and reading, termed them witty!

Whiles lines, for love; and brains, for beauty witless;

I for Thee, fever scorched; yet Thou still fitless!