Jacob served seven years for Rachel, and it was quickly gone because he loved her. None so merry, if he may happily enjoy her company, he is in heaven for a time, and if he may not, dejected in an instant, solitary, silent, he departs weeping, lamenting, sighing, complaining.

But the Symptomes of the mind in Lovers, are almost infinite, and so diverse, that no Art can comprehend them; though they be merry sometimes, and rapt beyond themselves for joy: yet most part, Love is a plague, a torture, an hell, a bitter sweet passion at last; Amor melle & felle est fæcundissimus, gustum dat dulcem & amarum. ’Tis suavis amaricies, dolentia delectabilis, hilare tormentum;

Et me melle beant suaviora, Et me felle necant amariora;

Like a summer fly or Sphines wings, or a rainbow of all colours,

Quæ ad solis radios conversæ aureæ erant, Adversus nubes cæruleæ, quale jubar Iridis,

Fair, fowl, and full of variation, though most part irksome and bad. For in a word, the Spanish inquisition is not comparable to it; a torment and execution it is, as he calls it in the poet, an unquenchable fire, and what not? From it, saith Austin, arise biting cares, perturbations, passions, sorrows, fears, suspitions, discontents, contentions, discords, wars, treacheries, enmities, flattery, cosening, riot, lust, impudence, cruelty, knavery, &c.

—— dolor, querelæ, Lamentatio, lachrymæ perennes, Languor, anxietas, amaritudo; Aut si triste magis potest quid esse, Hos tu das Comites Neæra vitæ.

These be the companions of lovers, and the ordinary symptomes, as the Poet repeats them.

In amore hæc insunt vitia, Suspitiones, inimicitiæ, audaciæ, Bellum, pax rursum, &c.

Insomnia, ærumna, error, terror, & fuga, Excogitantia, excors immodestia, Petulantia, cupiditas, & malevolentia; Inhæret etiam aviditas, desidia, injuria, Inopia, contumelia, & dispendium, &c.

In love these vices are; suspitions, Peace, war, and impudence, detractions, Dreams, cares, and errors, terrors and affrights, Immodest pranks, devices, sleights and flights, Heart-burnings, wants, neglects, desire of wrong; Loss continual, expence and hurt among.

Every Poet is full of such catalogues of Love symptomes; but fear and sorrow may justly challenge the chief place. Though Hercules de Saxonia cap. 3. Tract. de melanch. will exclude fear from Love Melancholy, yet I am otherwise perswaded. Res est solliciti plena timoris amor.

’Tis full of fear, anxiety, doubt, care, peevishness, suspicion, it turns a man into a woman, which made Hesiod belike, put fear and paleness Venus daughters;

—— Marti clypeos atque arma secanti Alma Venus peperit Pallorem, unaque Timorem:

Because fear and love are still linked together. Moreover they are apt to mistake, amplifie, too credulous sometimes, too full of hope and confidence, and then again very jealous, unapt to believe or entertain any good news.

The Comical Poet hath prettily painted out this passage amongst the rest in a Dialogue betwixt Mitio and Æschines, a gentle father and a love-sick son. M. Be of good chear my son, thou shalt have her to wife. Æ. Ah father, do you mock me now? M. I mock thee, why? Æ. That which I so earnestly desire, I more suspect and fear. M. Get you home, and send for her to be your wife. Æ. What now a wife, now father, &c.

These doubts, anxieties, suspitions, are the least part of their torments; they break many times from passions to actions, speak fair, and flatter, now most obsequious and willing, by and by they are averse, wrangle, fight, swear, quarrel, laugh, weep: and he that doth not so by fits, Lucian holds, is not throughly touched with this Load-stone of Love. So their actions and passions are intermixt, but of all other passions, Sorrow hath the greatest share; Love to many is bitterness it self; rem amaram Plato calls it, a bitter potion, an agony, a plague.

Eripite hanc pestem perniciemque mihi; Quæ mihi subrepens imos ut torpor in artus, Expulit ex omni pectore lætitias.

O take away this plague, this mischief from me, Which as a numness over all my body, Expels my joys, and makes my soul so heavy.

Phædria had a true touch of this, when he cryed out,

O Thais, Utinam esset mihi Pars æqua amoris tecum, ac pariter fieret ut Aut hoc tibi doleret itidem, ut mihi dolet.

O Thais would thou hadst of these my pains a part, Or as it doth me now, so it would make thee smart.

So had that yong man, when he roared again for discontent.

Jactor, crucior, agitor, stimulor, Versor in amoris rota miser, Exanimor, feror, distrahor, deripior, Ubi sum, ibi non sum; ubi non sum, ibi est animus.

I am vext and toss’d, and rack’t on Loves wheel; Where not, I am; but where am, do not feel.

The Moon in Lucian, made her mone to Venus, that she was almost dead for love, pereo equidem amore; and after a long tale, she broke off abruptly and wept, O Venus thou knowest my poor heart. Charmides in Lucian, was so impatient, that he sob’d and sighed, tore his hair, and said he would hang himself, I am undone, O sister Tryphæna, I cannot endure these love pangs; what shall I do? Vos O dii Averrunci, solvite me his curis, O yee Gods, free me from these cares and miseries, out of the anguish of his Soul, Theocles prays.

Shall I say, most part of a Lovers life is full of agony, anxiety, fear and grief, complaints, sighs, suspitions, and cares, (high ho, my heart is wo) full of silence and irksome solitariness?

Frequenting shady bowers in discontent, To the ayre his fruitless clamors he will vent.

Except at such times that he hath lucida intervalla, pleasant gales, or sudden alterations, as if his Mistress smile upon him, give him a good look, a kiss, or that some comfortable message be brought him, his service is accepted, &c.