Hear you his case.

My fine Sir is a lover, an _inamorata_, a Pyramus, a Romeo; he walks seven years disconsolate, moping, because he cannot enjoy his miss, _insanus amor_ is his melancholy, the man is mad; _delirat_, he dotes; all this while his Glycera is rude, spiteful, not to be entreated, churlish, spits at him, yet exceeding fair, gentle eyes (which is a beauty), hair lustrous and _smiling_, the trope is none of mine, _AEneas Sylvius_ hath _crines ridentes_--in conclusion she is wedded to his rival, a boore, a _Corydon_, a rustic, _omnino ignarus, he can scarce construe Corderius_, yet haughty, fantastic, _opiniatre_.

The lover travels, goes into foreign parts, peregrinates, _amoris ergo_, sees manners, customs, not English, converses with pilgrims, lying travellers, monks, hermits, those cattle, pedlars, travelling gentry, _Egyptians_, natural wonders, unicorns (though _Aldobrandus_ will have them to be figments), satyrs, semi-viri, apes, monkeys, baboons, curiosities artificial, _pyramides_, Virgilius his tombe, relicks, bones, which are nothing but ivory as _Melancthon_ judges, though _Cornutus_ leaneth to think them bones of dogs, cats, (why not men ?) which subtill priests vouch to have been saints, martyrs, _heu Pietas!_ By that time he has ended his course, _fugit hora_, seven other years are expired, gone by, time is he should return, he taketh ship for Britaine, much desired of his friends, _favebant venti, Neptune is curteis_, after some weekes at sea he landeth, rides post to town, greets his family, kinsmen, _compotores, those jokers his friends that were wont to tipple with him at alehouses_; these wonder now to see the change, _quantum mutatus, the man is quite another thing_, he is disenthralled, manumitted, he wonders what so bewitched him, he can now both see, hear, smell, handle, converse with his mistress, single by reason of the death of his rival, a widow having children, grown willing, prompt, amorous, showing no such great dislike to second nuptials, he might have her for asking, no such thing, his mind is changed, he loathes his former meat, had liever eat ratsbane, aconite, his humour is to die a bachelour; marke the conclusion.

In this humour of celibate seven other years are consumed in idleness, sloth, world's pleasures, which fatigate, satiate, induce wearinesse, vapours, _taedium vitae:_ When upon a day, behold a wonder, _redit Amor_, the man is as sick as ever, he is commenced lover upon the old stock, walks with his hand thrust in his bosom for negligence, moping he leans his head, face yellow, beard flowing and incomposite, eyes sunken, _anhelus, breath wheezy and asthmatical, by reason of over-much sighing:_ society he abhors, solitude is but a hell, what shall he doe?
all this while his mistresse is forward, coming, _amantissima, ready to jump at once into his mouth_, her he hateth, feels disgust when she is but mentioned, thinks her ugly, old, a painted Jesabeel, Alecto, Megara, and Tisiphone all at once, a Corinthian Lais, a strumpet, only not handsome; that which he affecteth so much, that which drives him mad, distracted, phrenetic, beside himself, is no beauty which lives, nothing _in rerum natura_ (so he might entertain a hope of a cure), but something _which is not_, can never be, a certain _fantastic opinion_ or _notional image_ of his mistresse, _that which she was_, and that which hee thought her to be, in former times, how beautiful! torments him, frets him, follows him, makes him that he wishes to die.
This Caprichio, _Sir Humourous_, hee cometh to me to be cured.

I counsel marriage with his mistresse, according to Hippocrates his method, together with milk-diet, herbs, aloes, and wild parsley, good in such cases, though Avicenna preferreth some sorts of wild fowl, teals, widgeons, beccaficos, which men in Sussex eat.