They are commonly slaves, captives, voluntary servants, Amator amicae mancipium, as [5420]Castilio terms him, his mistress’ servant, her drudge, prisoner, bondman, what not?  “He composeth himself wholly to her affections to please her, and, as Aemelia said, makes himself her lackey.  All his cares, actions, all his thoughts, are subordinate to her will and commandment:”  her most devote, obsequious, affectionate servant and vassal.  “For love” (as [5421]Cyrus in Xenophon well observed) “is a mere tyranny, worse than any disease, and they that are troubled with it desire to be free and cannot, but are harder bound than if they were in iron chains.”  What greater captivity or slavery can there be (as [5422]Tully expostulates) than to be in love?  “Is he a free man over whom a woman domineers, to whom she prescribes laws, commands, forbids what she will herself; that dares deny nothing she demands; she asks, he gives; she calls, he comes; she threatens, he fears; Nequissimum hunc servum puto, I account this man a very drudge.”  And as he follows it, [5423]"Is this no small servitude for an enamourite to be every hour combing his head, stiffening his beard, perfuming his hair, washing his face with sweet water, painting, curling, and not to come abroad but sprucely crowned, decked, and apparelled?” Yet these are but toys in respect, to go to the barber, baths, theatres, &c., he must attend upon her wherever she goes, run along the streets by her doors and windows to see her, take all opportunities, sleeveless errands, disguise, counterfeit shapes, and as many forms as Jupiter himself ever took; and come every day to her house (as he will surely do if he be truly enamoured) and offer her service, and follow her up and down from room to room, as Lucretia’s suitors did, he cannot contain himself but he will do it, he must and will be where she is, sit next her, still talking with her. [5424]"If I did but let my glove fall by chance,” (as the said Aretine’s Lucretia brags,) “I had one of my suitors, nay two or three at once ready to stoop and take it up, and kiss it, and with a low conge deliver it unto me; if I would walk, another was ready to sustain me by the arm.  A third to provide fruits, pears, plums, cherries, or whatsoever I would eat or drink.”  All this and much more he doth in her presence, and when he comes home, as Troilus to his Cressida, ’tis all his meditation to recount with himself his actions, words, gestures, what entertainment he had, how kindly she used him in such a place, how she smiled, how she graced him, and that infinitely pleased him; and then he breaks out, O sweet Areusa, O my dearest Antiphila, O most divine looks, O lovely graces, and thereupon instantly he makes an epigram, or a sonnet to five or seven tunes, in her commendation, or else he ruminates how she rejected his service, denied him a kiss, disgraced him, &c., and that as effectually torments him.  And these are his exercises between comb and glass, madrigals, elegies, &c., these his cogitations till he see her again.  But all this is easy and gentle, and the least part of his labour and bondage, no hunter will take such pains for his game, fowler for his sport, or soldier to sack a city, as he will for his mistress’ favour.