Ede in flagitio te me liquisse repertum,
Protinus id vincam turpe fuisse nefas.
Ede vacillantes ob gressus, debilis ibo,
Reiciet causam vox mea nulla tuam.
Dedecoris nequeas mihi, care, imponere tantum,
Quo vicis optatae sit tamen ille color,
Quantum ego non duplicem; demum si malle fateris,
Notitiam voltu dissimulare queo.
Non adero quocunque loci spatiabere, nomen
Dulce tuum in lingua non habitare sinam;
Impietas oris quaedam ne peccet in illo
Prodere amicitiae forsitan ausa notas.
Omnia me contra pro te facienda vovebo;
Osus eris quem tu, non meus is sit amor.
Me ferias cum vis, si quando hoc tempore malim,
Omnia cum votis stant inimica meis;
Adde tuos fortunae ictus, incumbe cadenti,
Nec venias subito tu novus ipse dolor.
Ah minime, hos fuerit si fas evadere luctus,
Tu mihi crudelis post mala victa veni;
Flamina ne noctis duplicaveris imbre diei,
Sitve per accitas tracta ruina moras!
Linquere me si vis, parcas ipse ultimus ire
Cum desaevierit tenuibus ira malis;
Aggredere in primis tu me, mihi prima ferenda
Fortunae veniat pessima plaga velim.
Cetera deinde meae sortis, iam tristia visa,
Sint ad discidium non ita visa tuum.
Some glory in their birth, some in their skill,
Some in their wealth, some in their bodies' force;
Some in their garments, though new-fangled ill;
Some in their hawks and hounds, some in their horse;
And every humour hath his adjunct pleasure,
Wherein it finds a joy above the rest:
But these particulars are not my measure;
All these I better in one general best.
Thy love is better than high birth to me,
Richer than wealth, prouder than garments' cost,
Of more delight than hawks or horses be;
And having thee, of all men's pride I boast:
Wretched in this alone, that thou mayst take
All this away and me most wretched make.
But do thy worst to steal thyself away,
For term of life thou art assured mine;
And life no longer than thy love will stay,
For it depends upon that love of thine.
Then need I not to fear the worst of wrongs,
When in the least of them my life hath end.
I see a better state to me belongs
Than that which on thy humour doth depend:
Thou canst not vex me with inconstant mind,
Since that my life on thy revolt doth lie.
O, what a happy title do I find,
Happy to have thy love, happy to die!
But what's so blessed-fair that fears no blot?
Thou mayst be false, and yet I know it not.
Est atavis, est qui subtili mente superbit, Corpore firmo unus, vi magis alter opum; Sunt quibus arridet vestis nova pravaque forma, Hunc canis, hunc currus, accipiterve iuvant. Ingeniis aliis alia est adiuncta libido,
Causa voluptatis maxima cuique suae. His ego particulis me nullus metior, uno Praeditus has omnes exsuperante bono: Pluris amor tuus est genere alto stirpis habendus, Pluris opes quam sunt vel pretiosa chlamys; Dulcior est avibus vel equis mihi, compos et eius Possideo quidquid gloria cuique sua est; Anxius hoc uno, quod habes ea cuncta vicissim Auferre, ac summae me dare tristitiae.
I, facias quodvis te furaturus amanti,
Per vitam meus es, sic mihi certa fides;
Vitaque amore tuo nescit diuturnior esse,
Ex illo quoniam pendet ut esse queat.
Propterea mihi nulla gravis sit noxa timenda,
Cui minima extemplo clauserit ipsa diem;
Sortis iter video mihi fortunatius ire
Arbitrio quam si pendeat illa tuo.
Perfidia haud possis tu me vexare rebelli,
Rupit ubi vitae stamina ruptus amor;
O ego bis felix, cui sors est utraque dulcis,
Dulce in amore tuo vivere, dulce mori!
Sed quid ita excellit nihil ut metuatur iniqui?
Falsus, ubi nildum suspicor, esse potes.
So shall I live supposing thou art true,
Like a deceived husband; so love's face
May still seem love to me, though alter'd new;
Thy looks with me, thy heart in other place:
For there can live no hatred in thine eye,
Therefore in that I cannot know thy change.
In many's looks the false heart's history
Is writ in moods and frowns and wrinkles strange.
But heaven in thy creation did decree
That in thy face sweet love should ever dwell;
Whate'er thy thoughts or thy heart's workings be,
Thy looks should nothing thence but sweetness tell.
How like Eve's apple doth thy beauty grow,
If thy sweet virtue answer not thy show!
They that have power to hurt and will do none,
That do not do the thing they most do show,
Who, moving others, are themselves as stone,
Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow;
They rightly do inherit heaven's graces
And husband nature's riches from expense;
They are the lords and owners of their faces,
Others but stewards of their excellence.
The summer's flower is to the summer sweet,
Though to itself it only live and die,
But if that flower with base infection meet,
The basest weed outbraves his dignity:
For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.
Vivere sic pergam decepti coniugis instar
Te ratus integra pectoris esse fide;
Nam speciem ostendes, penitus mutatus, eandem,
Ore meus, vel dum pectus aberrat amans.
Nec, quia nil oculis odiosum vivit in istis,
Scire tuas animi fas erit inde vices.
In vario voltu rugisve aut fronte coacta
Plurimum apud numerum perfida corda leges;
Te bonitas divina creans decrevit in ista
Vt facie nunquam non habitaret amor;
Quidquid consuleres, quidquid sub corde moveres,
In facie voluit nil nisi dulce legi.
O genita in pestem mortalibus aurea forma,
Intima ni virtus aequet in ore decus.
Laedere qui potis est nec volt, fecisse recusans
Quae genitum imprimis ad facienda putes;
Corda movens aliis, friget dum marmoris instar
Ipse cupidinibus succubuisse piger;
Dona deum in sese merito trahit ille, suaeque
Indolis ingenitas ille tuetur opes.
Ille sui est voltus dominus, sua possidet ora;
In multis alii servit id omne decus.
Flosculus aestati est aestivo gratus odore,
Floreat ac pereat cum tamen ipse sibi;
Siquid at incessit tetrae robiginis illum,
Gramine ab agresti vincitur eius honos.
Optima corrumpas in pessima; sique putrescunt
Lilia, non loliis est ita foedus odor.
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