CXXXVIII. 10! but with mine compare thou thine own state, When my love swears that she is made of truth, And thou shalt find it merits not reproving ; I do believe her, though I know she lies, Or, if it do, not from those lips of thine, That she might think me some untutor'd youth, That have profan'd their scarlet ornaments, Unlearned in the world's false subtleties. And seal'd false bonds of love as oft as mine, Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young, Robb'd others' beds revenues of their rents. Although she knows my days are past the best, Be it lawful I love thee, as thou lov'st those Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue : Whom thine eyes woo as mine importune thee: On both sides thus is simple truth supprest. Root pity in thy heart, that when it grows, But wherefore says she not, she is unjust ? Thy pity may deserve to pitied be. And wherefore say not I, that I am old ? If thou dost seek to have what thou dost hide, O! love's best habit is in seeming trust, By self-example may'st thou be denied ! And age in love loves not to have years told: CXLIII. Therefore I lie with her, and she with me. Lo! as a careful housewife runs to catch One of her feather'd creatures broke away, Sets down her babe, and makes all swift dispatch O! call not me to justify the wrong, In pursuit of the thing she would have stay; That thy unkindness lays upon my heart; Whilst her neglected child holds her in chace, Cries to catch her whose busy care is bent So will I pray that thou may'st have thy Will, And therefore from my face she turns my foes, If thou turn back, and my loud crying still. CXLIV.9 Two loves I have of comfort and despair, Which like two spirits do suggest* me still: The better angel is a man, right fair, The worser spirit a woman, colourd ill. My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain; To win me soon to hell, my female evil Lest sorrow lend me words, and words express Tempteth my better angel from my side, The manner of my pity-wanting pain. And would corrupt my saint to be a devil, If I might teach thee wit, better it were, Wooing his purity with her foul pride. Though not to love, yet, love, to tell me so; And whether that my angel be turn'd fiend, Suspect I may, yet not directly tell ; I guess one angel in another's hell: Yet this shall I ne'er know, but live in doubt, Now this ill-wresting world is grown so bad, Till my bad angel fire my good one out. CXLV. Breath’d forth the sound that said, “I hate.” To me that languish'd for her sake; But when she saw my woeful state, For they in thee a thousand errors note; Straight in her heart did mercy come, But 't is my heart that loves what they despise, Chiding that tongue, that ever sweet Who in despite of view is pleas'd to dote. Was us'd in giving gentle doom, Nor are mine ears with thy tongue's tune delighted ; And taught it thus anew to greet. Nor tender feeling, to base touches prone, “I hate,” she alter'd with an end, Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited That follow'd it as gentle day To any sensual feast with thee alone : Doth follow night, who, like a fiend, But my five wits, nor my five senses can From heaven to hell is flown away: Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee, 66 I hate" from hate away she threw, Who leave unsway'd the likeness of a man, And sav'd my life, saying—not you." CXLVI. Fool'd by those rebel powers that thee array, Why dost thou pine within, and suffer dearth, Painting thy outward walls so costly gay? Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving. Why so large cost, having so short a lease, 1 This sonnet, with variations, was first printed in “The Passionate Pilgrim," 1599. It is inserted hereafter as it stands in that work, that the reader may have an opportunity of comparing the two copies. 2 See note to “King Lear,” Act III, sc. iv. 3 This sonnet, with some variations, will be found hereafter in "The Passionate Pilgrim." 4 Tempt. 6 Old ed. reads: My sinful earth these rebel powers that thee array. Malone made the change. 6 Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend ? 10! though I love what others do abhor, Shall worms, inheritors of this excess, With others thou shouldst not abhor my state : Eat up thy charge ? is this thy body's end ? If thy unworthiness rais'd love in me, More worthy I to be belov'd of thee. CLI. Love is too young to know what conscience is; So shalt thou feed on death, that feeds on men, Yet who knows not, conscience is born of love ? And, death once dead, there's no more dying then. Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss, Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove : For, thou betraying me, I do betray My nobler part to my gross body's treason ; For that which longer nurseth the disease; My soul doth tell my body that he may Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, Triumph in love ; flesh stays no farther reason, Th' uncertain sickly appetite to please. But rising at thy name, doth point out thee My reason, the physician to my love, As his triumphant prize. Proud of this pride, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, He is contented thy poor drudge to be, Hath left me, and I desperate now approve, To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side. Desire is death, which physic did except. No want of conscience hold it, that I call Past cure I am, now reason is past care, Her love, for whose dear love I rise and fall. And frantic mad with ever-more unrest: My thoughts and my discourse as mad men's are, CLII. At random from the truth vainly express’d; In loving thee thou know'st I am forsworn, For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright, But thou art twice forsworn, to me love swearing; Who art as black as hell, as dark as night. In act thy bed-vow broke, and new faith torn, In vowing new hate after new love bearing. But why of two oaths' breach do I accuse thee, O me! what eyes hath love put in my head, When I break twenty? I am perjur'd most“; Which have no correspondence with true sight ! For all my vows are oaths but to misuse thee, Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled, And all my honest faith in thee is lost: That censures falsely what they see aright? For I have sworn deep oaths of thy deep kindness, If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote, Oaths of thy love, thy truth, thy constancy ; What means the world to say it is not so ? And to enlighten thee, gave eyes to blindness, If it be not, then love doth well denote Or made them swear against the thing they see; Love's eye is not so true as all men's: no, For I have sworn thee fair: more perjur'd I, How can it ? O! how can love's eye be true, To swear against the truth so foul a lie ! CLIII. Cupid laid by his brand, and fell asleep : And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep In a cold valley-fountain of that ground; Which borrow'd from this holy fire of love Canst thou, O Cruel ! say, I love thee not, A dateless lively heat, still to endure, When I, against myself, with thee partake ? And grew a seething bath, which yet men prove, Do I not think on thee, when I forgot Against strange maladies a sovereign cure. Am of myself, all tyrant, for thy sake ? But at my mistress' eye love's brand new-fired, Who hateth thee that I do call my friend ? The boy for trial needs would touch my breast; On whom frown'st thou that I do fawn upon ? I sick withal, the help of bath desired, Nay, if thou low'rst on me, do I not spend And thither hied, a sad distemper'd guest, Revenge upon myself with present moan? But found no cure: the bath for my help lies What merit do I in myself respect, Where Cupid got new fire, my mistress' eyes. CLIV. The little Love-god lying once asleep, Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand, Whilst many nymphs, that vow'd chaste life to keep, Came tripping by; but in her maiden hand Which many legions of true hearts had warm’d: To make me give the lie to my true sight, And so the general of hot desire This brand she quenched in a cool well by, Which from love's fire took heat perpetual, There is such strength and warrantise of skill, Growing a bath, and healthful remedy That in my mind thy worst all best exceeds ? For men diseas'd; but I, my mistress' thrall, Who taught thee how to make me love thee more, Came there for cure, and this by that I prove, The more I hear and see just cause of hate ? Love's fire heats water, water cools not love. 1 Take part. A thousand favours from a maund? she drew His browny locks did hang in crooked curls, Of amber, crystal, and of bedded jet, And every light occasion of the wind Which one by one she in a river threw, Upon his lips their silken parcels hurls : Upon whose weeping margent she was set; What's sweet to do, to do will aptly find; Like usury, applying wet to wet, Each eye that saw him did enchant the mind, For on his visage was in little drawn, 66 Of folded schedules had she many a one, Small show of man was yet upon his chin: 1 Straw. * Basket. 3 Untwisted.-Percy. 4 gave : in old eds. Malone made the change. 5 The northern provincialism for sown. Boswell. 6 more : in old eds. His qualities were beauteous as his form, For when we rage, advice is often seen By blunting us to make our wits more keen. Nor gives it satisfaction to our blood, To be forbid the sweets that seem so good, Did livery falseness in a pride of truth. For fear of harms that preach in our behoof. O appetite, from judgment stand aloof! Well could he ride, and often men would say, The one a palate hath that needs will taste, « That horse his mettle from his rider takes : Though reason weep, and cry, “it is thy last.”' Proud of subjection, noble by the sway, (makes !" What rounds, what bounds, what course, what stop he For farther I could say, “ this man's untrue, " And controversy hence a question takes, And knew the patterns of his foul beguiling; Whether the horse by him became his deed, Heard where his plants in others' orchards grew, Or he his manage by the well-doing steed. Saw how deceits were gilded in his smiling; Knew vows were ever brokers to defiling; But quickly on this side the verdict went. Thought characters, and words, merely but art, His real habitude gave life and grace And bastards of his foul adulterate heart. And long upon these terms I held my city, Till thus he'gan besiege me: “Gentle maid, Came' for additions, yet their purpos’d trim Have of my suffering youth some feeling pity, Piec'd not his grace, but were all grac'd by him. And be not of my holy vows afraid : That's to you sworni, to none was ever said; So on the tip of his subduing tongue, For feasts of love I have been call’d unto, Till now did ne'er invite, nor never vow. All my offences that abroad you see, Love made them not: with acturea they may be, Catching all passions in his craft of will: Where neither party is nor true nor kind: They sought their shame that so their shame did find, That he did in the general bosom reign And so much less of shame in me remains, Of young, of old; and sexes both enchanted, By how much of me their reproach contains. To dwell with him in thoughts, or to remain In personal duty, following where he haunted : Among the many that mine eyes have seen, Consents, bewitch'd, ere he desire have granted; Not one whose flame my heart so much as warmed, And dialogued for him what he would say, Or my affection put to the smallest teen, Ask'd their own wills, and made their wills obey. Or any of my leisures ever charmed : Harm have I done to them, but ne'er was harmed; Many there were that did his picture get, Kept hearts in liveries, but mine own was free, To serve their eyes, and in it put their mind; And reign'd, commanding in his monarchy. Look here, what tributes wounded fancies sent me, In bloodless white and the encrimson'd mood; So many have, that never touch'd his hand, Effects of terror and dear modesty, Encamp'd in hearts, but fighting outwardly. And lo! behold these talents of their hair, With twisted metal amorously impleach'd, Threw my affections in his charmed power, I have receiv'd from many a several fair, Reserv'd the stalk, and gave him all my flower. (Their kind acceptance weepingly beseech'd) With the annexions of fair gems enrich'd, Yet did I not, as some my equals did, And deep-brain'd sonnets, that did amplify Each stone's dear nature, worth, and quality. The diamond ; why, 't was beautiful and hard, Whereto his invis'd properties did tend, Of proofs new-bleeding, which remain'd the foil The deep-green emerald, in whose fresh regard Of this false jewel, and his amorous spoil. Weak sights their sickly radiance do amend; The heaven-hued sapphire, and the opal blend But ah! who ever shunn’d by precedent With objects manifold : each several stone, The destin'd ill she must herself assay ? With wit well blazon'd, smil'd, or made some moan. Or forc'd examples, 'gainst her own content, To put the by-pass'd perils in her way? Lo! all these trophies of affections hot, Counsel may stop a while what will not stay; Of pensiv'd and subdued desires the tender, 3 2 Action. 3 Sorrow. 4 Plaited. 6 Unseen. 1 Can : in old eds. 2 Action. Nature hath charg'd me that I hoard them not, Now, all these hearts that do on mine depend, And supplicant their sighs to you extend, To leave the battery that you make 'gainst mine, Since I their altar, you enpatron me. Lending soft audience to my sweet design, And credent soul to that strong-bonded oath, This said, his watery eyes he did dismount, Each cheek a river running from a fount Works under you; and to your audit comes With brinish current downward flow'd apace. Their distract parcels in combined sums. 0, how the channel to the stream gave grace ! Who, glazd with crystal, gate the glowing roses Lo! this device was sent me from a nun, That flame through water which their hue incloses. Or sister sanctified, of holiest note; Which late her noble suit in court did shun, O father! what a hell of witchcraft lies Whose rarest havings made the blossoms dote: In the small orb of one particular tear; For she was sought by spirits of richest coat, But with the inundation of the eyes But kept cold distance, and did thence remove, What rocky heart to water will not wear ? To spend her living in eternal love. What breast so cold that is not warmed here? 05 cleft effect ! cold modesty, hot wrath, But O, my sweet! what labour is 't to leave Both fire from hence and chill extincture hath ! For lo! his passion, but an art of craft, Even there resolv'd my reason into tears; She that her fame so to herself contrives, There my white stole of chastity I daff'd; The scars of battle scapeth by the flight, Shook off my sober guards, and civil fears: And makes her absence valiant, not her might. Appear to him, as he to me appears, All melting; though our drops this difference bore, 0, pardon me, in that my boast is true! His poison'd me, and mine did him restore. In him a plenitude of subtle matter, Applied to cautels, all strange forms receives, Of burning blushes, or of weeping water, Not to be tempted, would she be immur'd, Or swooning paleness; and he takes and leaves, In either's aptness, as it best deceives Or to turn white, and swoon at tragic shows : That not a heart which in his level came, Could'scape the hail of his all-hurting aim, And mine I pour your ocean all among : Showing fair nature is both kind and tame, I strong o'er them, and you o'er me being strong, And veil'd in them, did win whom he would maim: Must for your victory us all congest, Against the thing he sought he would exclaim; As compound love to physic your cold breast, When he most burn'd in heart-wish'd luxury, He preach'd pure maid, and prais'd cold chastity. My parts had power to charm a sacred sun, Who, disciplin'd, I dieted* in grace, Thus, merely with the garment of a grace Believ'd her eyes, when they t' assail begun, The naked and concealed fiend he cover'd; All vows and consecrations giving place. That th’ unexperienc'd gave the tempter place, O most potential love! vow, bond, nor space, Which, like a cherubin, above them hoverd. În thee hath neither sting, knot, nor confine, Who, young and simple, would not be so lover'd ? For thou art all, and all things else are thine. Ah me! I fell ; and yet do question make, What I should do again for such a sake. O, that infected moisture of his eye ! O, that false fire, which in his cheek so glowed ! Of wealth, of filial fear, law, kindred, fame? 0, that forc'd thunder from his heart did fly! Love's arms are peace,'gainst rule,'gainst sense, 'gainst O, that sad breath his spungy lungs bestowed ! shame; 0, all that borrow'd motion, seeming owed, And sweetens, in the suffering pangs it bears, Would yet again.betray the fore-betray'd, The aloes of all forces, shocks, and fears. And new pervert a reconciled maid ! 1 Flower of the young nobility. 2 Playing: in old eds. Malone made the change. 3 enur'd: in old ed. Malone made the change 4. From the quarto, 1609, the property of Lord F. Egerton. Malone's copy at Oxford has " I died” for “ and dieted," which he substituted at the suggestion of a correspondent. 5 Or: in old ed. Malone made the change. 61 |