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LOVE DISSEMBLED, FR. AS YOU LIKE IT, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Think not I love him, though I ask for him
Last Line: But that's all one; omittance is no quittance.
Subject(s): Admiration


THINK not I love him, though I ask for him;
'T is but a peevish boy: -- yet he talks well; --
But what care I for words? -- yet words do well.
When he that speaks them pleases those that hear.
But, sure, he's proud; and yet his pride becomes him:
He'll make a proper man: The best thing in him
Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue
Did make offence, his eye did heal it up,
He is not very tall; yet for his years he's tall;
His leg is but so so; and yet 't is well:
There was a pretty redness in his lip,
A little riper and more lusty red
Than that mixed in his cheek; 't was just the
difference
Betwixt the constant red, and mingled damask.
There be some women, Silvius, had they marked him
In parcels, as I did, would have gone near
To fall in love with him: but, for my part,
I love him not, nor hate him not; and yet
I have more causes to hate him than to love him:
For what had he to do to chide at me?
He said mine eyes wee black and my hair black;
And, now I am remembered, scorned at me:
I marvel, why I answered not again:
But that's all one; omittance is no quittance.




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