Though your strangenesse frets my hart,
Yet [may not I]1 complaine :
You perswade me, 'tis but Art,
[That]2 secret loue must faine.
If another you affect,
Tis but a [shew t'auoid]3 suspect.
Is this faire excusing ?   O no, all is abusing.

[Your wisht sight if]4 I desire,
[Suspitions]5 you pretend,
Causelesse you your selfe retire,
[While]6 I in vaine attend.
[This a Louer whets, you say]7,
Still made more eager by delay.
Is this faire excusing ?   O, no, all is abusing.

When another holds your hand,
[You]8 sweare I hold your hart :
[When my Riuals close doe]9 stand,
And I sit farre apart,
I am neerer yet then they,
Hid in your bosome, as you say.
Is this faire excusing ?   O no, all is abusing.

Would my Riual then I were,
[Or  els]10 your secret friend :
So much lesser should I feare,
And not so much attend.
[Then]11 enioy you, eu'ry one,
Yet I must seeme your friend alone.
Is this faire excusing ?   O no, all is abusing.