Or show my love as musky courtiers do;
I'll not carouse a health to honour thee,
In this same bezzling[572] drunken courtesy,
And, when all's quaff'd, eat up my bousing-glass[573]
In glory that I am thy servile ass;
Nor will I wear a rotten Bourbon lock,[574]
As some sworn peasant to a female smock.
Well-featur'd lass, thou know'st I love thee dear:
Yet for thy sake I will not bore mine ear,
To hang thy dirty silken shoe-tires there;