To Humour. Sonnet. 19 (Sonnet 19)

YOu cannot loue my pretty heart and why?
There was a time you told me that you would,
But now againe you will the same denie,
If it might pease you, would to God you could;
What will you hate? nay that you will not neither,
Nor loue, nor hate, how then? what will you doe,
What will you keepe a meane then betwixt eyther?
Or will you loue me, and yet hate me too?
Yet serues not this, what next, what other shift?
You will, and will not, what a coyle is heere?
I see your craft, now I perceiue your drift,
And all this while I was mistaken there:
Your loue and hate is this, I now do proue you,
You loue in hate, by hate to make me loue you.