eet self grow'st; If Nature (sovereign mistress over wrack), As thou goest onwards still will pluck thee back, She keeps thee to this purpose, that her skill May time disgrace, and wretched minutes kill. Yet fear her, thou minion of her pleasure, She may detain, but not still keep, her treasure! Her audit (though delayed) answered must be, And her quietus is to render thee. , , , {*}; __ . - __ , - _ _, , - . , , : , ! - - , __. {* - , - .} , , . , . , - . , . , , . , . , , . . , . , , . , . ! - : . , - . . 127 In the old age black was not counted fair, Or if it were it bore not beauty's name; But now is black beauty's successive heir, And beauty slandered with a bastard shame: For since each hand hath put on Nature's power, Fairing the foul with art's false borrowed face, Sweet beauty hath no name, no holy bower, But is profaned, if not lives in disgrace. Therefore my mistress' brows are raven black, Her eyes so suited, and they mourners seem At such who not born fair no beauty lack, Sland'ring creation with a false esteem: Yet so they mourn, becoming of their woe, That every tongue says beauty should look so. , , __ , , __ , , , , , , . , , , - , __, [], {*}, . {**}, : . {* , . ** .} - , . , , . , , , . , , , . , . . , , , . , , , , , , . -, , , . , , , : ! . 128 How oft, when thou, my music, music play'st, Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently sway'st The wiry concord that mine ear confounds, Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap To kiss the tender inward of thy hand, Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap, At the wood's boldness by thee blushing stand! To be so tickled, they would change their state And situation with those dancing chips, O'er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait, Making dead wood more blest than living lips. Since saucy jacks so happy are in this, Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss. , , , , _ _ , , , , , , , , ! , , , , . , , - . , , . , , - , - , , . , - , - , . , . . ! , , , , , , . , , , , . , - . . 129 Th'expense of spirit in a waste of shame Is lust in action, and till action, lust Is perjured, murd'rous, bloody, full of blame, Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust, Enjoyed no sooner but despised straight, Past reason hunted, and no sooner had Past reason hated as a swallowed bait On purpose laid to make the taker mad: Mad in pursuit, and in possession so, Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme, A bliss in proof, and proved, a very woe, Before, a joy proposed, behind, a dream. All this the world well knows, yet none knows well To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell. - , , , , , , , , , ; , ; , , , , , ; __ , , , ; , - __ ; - , - ; - , - _ _ . , , , [] . - ; , , , , . - , , , , , , . , , . - , - . - , - . , . . - , , , , , , . . , . , . - . - . , , ? . 130 My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips' red; If snow be white; why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks, And in some perfumes is there more delight Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know That music hath a far more pleasing sound; I grant I never saw a goddess go - My mistress when she walks treads on the ground. And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare. ; , ; - , ; , . , , , , , . , , , . , , , __ , , __ . , , , , . , , , , , . , ; , , . , . - , . , . . , , - , , , . , , . , - , : . , - ! . - , - . , - . , . - . , . . , , . . - , , , , , , . , , . , , , . - , . . , , . - ? -? . , . , , . , , - . , , . . - , . , . -, . , , . , . , , , . , , , . . 131 Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art, As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel; For well thou know'st to my dear doting heart Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel. Yet, in good faith, some say that thee behold Thy face hath not the power to make love groan: To say they err, I dare not be so bold, Although I swear it to myself alone. And, to be sure that is not false I swear, A thousand groans but thinking on thy face One on another's neck do witness bear Thy black is fairest in my judgement's place. In nothing art thou black save in thy deeds, And thence this slander as I think proceeds. - , {*}, - , , , - . , , , , , ; , , , . , , , , __ , _ _ [ ] , [] . , , , , _ _. {* .. , .} , , . , , . , , . , , , , . - . . . . , ! , - . , , , , - : - . , , . . 132 Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me, Knowing thy heart torments me with disdain, Have put on black, and loving mourners be, Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain. And truly not the morning sun of heaven Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east, Nor that full star that ushers in the even Doth half that glory to the sober west, As those two mourning eyes become thy face. let it then as well beseem thy heart To mourn for me, since mourning doth thee grace, And suit thy pity like in every part. Then will I swear beauty herself is black, And all they foul that thy complexion lack. , , , , , , , . , , , , . , , _ _ . , , . - , , , , , . , , , . . , , . , . . - , , , . , , , , - ! , : ! : . . 133 Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan For that deep wound it gives my friend and me! It's not enough to torture me alone, But slave to slavery my sweet'st friend must be? Me from myself thy cruel eye hath taken, And my next self thou harder hast engrossed: Of him, myself, and thee, I am forsaken, A torment thrice threefold thus to be crossed. Prison my heart in thy steel bosom's ward, But then my friend's heart let my poor heart bail; Whoe'er keeps me, let my heart be his guard, Thou canst not then use rigor in my jail. And yet thou wilt; for I, being pent in thee, Perforce am thine, and all that is in me. , - , ! __ , ? , __ [] "" ; , - , : , __ ; _ _, {*} , _ _ . __, , , - , - , . {* .} , - ! , ? , "" . , . , : , . : - , , , - . . ! , . , . , ! : , , . , . . , . . 134 So, now I have confess'd that he is thine, And I myself am mortgaged to thy will, Myself I'll forfeit, so that other mine Thou wilt restore, to be my comfort still: But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free, For thou art covetous and he is kind; 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 put'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. [] - {*}, _ _ , . __ , , . , , ? __ , __ ? , , __ , ; , , , . ; __ . {* 135 136 "Will/will". , , , "William". , "" ; , - ( ). , "will" "", "", " ( )". , , , .} "" "". {*}, . , . , , ? , ? , , , , . , . . ; "", -, - : , . , , ? , , ? - ; - . , : . . {* , , ""; "". , "" , , "" ( XIX XX .) , . . , , "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 lovest me for my name is Will. , {*}, , - , , __ , __, - , , , , . - , , . , ; , . , , , , , , - . , , - . {* : "... , , (. 135)".} , , - , "" "". . , , , , , , , ,