To make me an automaton,           

             I'll case my heart in triple mail,           

             And fence it so completely round,           

             That all this vaunted skill shall fail,           

             Those blunted arrows back rebound;           

             For know, usurper! from this hour,           

             I scorn thy laws, abjure thy power!           

             From this dear moment I despise           

             The whole artillery of eyes;           

             Reason alone shall be my guide,           

             And Reason's voice shall win my bride.           

             Some bonny lass shall say I can           

             Love you as well as any man;           

             I will the self-same troth accord,           

             Most gladly take her at her word;           

             And we may just as happy prove           

             Without the fooleries of love.           

             She must not ask so much attention,           

             As many ladies I could mention;           

             But when I do not want to sway,           

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