If your passion of love be too violent, disperse it, say they, and they say true; for I have often tried it with advantage:  break it into several desires, of which let one be regent, if you will, over the rest; but, lest it should tyrannise and domineer over you, weaken and protract, by dividing and diverting it: 

“Cum morosa vago singultiet inguine vena,”

["When you are tormented with fierce desire, satisfy it with the
first person that presents herself.”—­Persius, Sat., vi. 73.]

“Conjicito humorem collectum in corpora quaeque,”

[Lucretius, vi. 1062, to the like effect.]

and provide for it in time, lest it prove troublesome to deal with, when it has once seized you: 

              “Si non prima novis conturbes vulnera plagis,
               Volgivagaque vagus venere ante recentia cures.”

["Unless you cure old wounds by new."-Lucretius, iv. 1064.]

I was once wounded with a vehement displeasure, and withal, more just than vehement; I might peradventure have lost myself in it, if I had merely trusted to my own strength.  Having need of a powerful diversion to disengage me, by art and study I became amorous, wherein I was assisted by my youth:  love relieved and rescued me from the evil wherein friendship had engaged me.  ’Tis in everything else the same; a violent imagination hath seized me:  I find it a nearer way to change than to subdue it:  I depute, if not one contrary, yet another at least, in its place.  Variation ever relieves, dissolves, and dissipates.

If I am not able to contend with it, I escape from it; and in avoiding it, slip out of the way, and make, my doubles; shifting place, business, and company, I secure myself in the crowd of other thoughts and fancies, where it loses my trace, and I escape.

After the same manner does nature proceed, by the benefit of inconstancy; for time, which she has given us for the sovereign physician of our passions, chiefly works by this, that supplying our imaginations with other and new affairs, it loosens and dissolves the first apprehension, how strong soever.  A wise man little less sees his friend dying at the end of five-and-twenty years than on the first year; and according to Epicurus, no less at all; for he did not attribute any alleviation of afflictions, either to their foresight or their antiquity; but so many other thoughts traverse this, that it languishes and tires at last.

Alcibiades, to divert the inclination of common rumours, cut off the ears and tail of his beautiful dog, and turned him out into the public place, to the end that, giving the people this occasion to prate, they might let his other actions alone.  I have also seen, for this same end of diverting the opinions and conjectures of the people and to stop their mouths, some women conceal their real affections by those that were only counterfeit; but I have also seen some of them, who