He learned but surety-like to write for me

Under that bond that him as fast doth bind.

The statute of thy beauty thou wilt take,

Thou usurer that putt’st forth all to use,

And sue a friend came debtor for my sake;

So him I lose through my unkind abuse.

Him have I lost; thou hast both him and me;

He pays the whole, and yet am I not free.

135

Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy Will,

And Will to boot, and Will in overplus.

More than enough am I that vex thee still,

To thy sweet will making addition thus.

Wilt thou, whose will is large and spacious,

Not once vouchsafe to hide my will in thine?

Shall will in others seem right gracious,

And in my will no fair acceptance shine?

The sea, all water, yet receives rain still,

And in abundance addeth to his store;

So thou, being rich in Will, add to thy Will

One will of mine to make thy large Will more.

Let no unkind no fair beseechers kill;

Think all but one, and me in that one Will.

136

If thy soul check thee that I come so near,

Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy Will,

And will, thy soul knows, is admitted there;

Thus far for love my love-suit, sweet, fulfil.

Will will fulfil the treasure of thy love,

Ay, fill it full with wills, and my will one.

In things of great receipt with ease we prove

Among a number one is reckoned none.

Then in the number let me pass untold,

Though in thy store’s account I one must be;

For nothing hold me, so it please thee hold

That nothing me a something, sweet, to thee.

Make but my name thy love, and love that still,

And then thou lov’st me for my name is Will.

137

Thou blind fool love, what dost thou to mine eyes

That they behold and see not what they see?

They know what beauty is, see where it lies,

Yet what the best is take the worst to be.

If eyes corrupt by over-partial looks

Be anchored in the bay where all men ride,

Why of eyes’ falsehood hast thou forged hooks

Whereto the judgement of my heart is tied?

Why should my heart think that a several plot

Which my heart knows the wide world’s common place?—

Or mine eyes, seeing this, say this is not,

To put fair truth upon so foul a face?

In things right true my heart and eyes have erred,

And to this false plague are they now transferred.

138

When my love swears that she is made of truth

I do believe her though I know she lies,

That she might think me some untutored youth

Unlearned in the world’s false subtleties.

Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,

Although she knows my days are past the best,

Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue;

On both sides thus is simple truth suppressed.

But wherefore says she not she is unjust,

And wherefore say not I that I am old?

O, love’s best habit is in seeming trust,

And age in love loves not to have years told.

Therefore I lie with her, and she with me,

And in our faults by lies we flattered be.

139

O, call not me to justify the wrong

That thy unkindness lays upon my heart.

Wound me not with thine eye but with thy tongue;

Use power with power, and slay me not by art.

Tell me thou lov‘st elsewhere, but in my sight,

Dear heart, forbear to glance thine eye aside.

What need’st thou wound with cunning when thy

might

Is more than my o‘erpressed defence can bide?

Let me excuse thee: ‘Ah, my love well knows

Her pretty looks have been mine enemies,

And therefore from my face she turns my foes

That they elsewhere might dart their injuries.’

Yet do not so; but since I am near slain,

Kill me outright with looks, and rid my pain.

140

Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press

My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain,

Lest sorrow lend me words, and words express

The manner of my pity-wanting pain.

If I might teach thee wit, better it were,

Though not to love, yet, love, to tell me so—

As testy sick men when their deaths be near

No news but health from their physicians know.

For if I should despair I should grow mad,

And in my madness might speak ill of thee.

Now this ill-wresting world is grown so bad

Mad slanderers by mad ears believèd be.

That I may not be so, nor thou belied,

Bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart go

wide.

141

In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes,

For they in thee a thousand errors note;