Or mine eyes feeing this, fay this is not,
To put fair truth upon fo foul a face?

In things right true my heart and eyes have err'd,
And to this falfe plague are they now transferr'd.
CXXXVIII.

When my love fwears that she is made of truth,
I do believe her, though I know the lies;
That the might think me fome untutor'd youth,
Unlearned in the world's falfe fubtilties.

Thus vainly thinking that the thinks me young,
Although he knows my days are past the beft,
Simply I credit her falfe-fpeaking tongue;
On both fides thus is fimple truth fuppreft,
But wherefore fays the not, fhe is unjust?
And wherefore fay not I, that I am old?
O love's best habit is in feeming trust,
And age in love loves not to have years told

Therefore I lie with her, and the with me,
And in our faults by lies we flatter'd be.

4 To put fair truth upon fo foul a face?] So, in Macbeth:
"Falfe face must hide what the false heart doth know,"
STEEVENS.

When my love fwears &c.] This Sonnet is alfo found (with fome variations) in The Paffionate Pilgrim, a collection of verses printed as Shakspeare's in 1599. It there ftands thus :

"When my love fwears that the is made of truth,
"I do believe her, though I know the lies;
"That the might think me fome untutor❜d youth,
"Unfkilfull in the world's falfe forgeries,
"Thus vainly thinking that the thinks me young,
"Although I know my years be past the best,
"I fmiling credit her falfe fpeaking tongue,
"Out-facing faults in love with love's ill reft.
"But wherefore fays my love that he is young
"And wherefore fay not I that I am old?
"O, love's best habit is a foothing tongue,

And age in love loves not to have years told.
"Therefore I'll lie with love, and love with me,
" Since that our faults in love thus fmother'd be."

MALONE.

CXXXIX.

CXXXIX.

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 flay me not by art.
Tell me thou lov'ft elsewhere; but in my fight,
Dear heart, forbear to glance thine eye afide.
What need'ft thou wound with cunning, when thy
might

Is more than my o'er-prefs'd defence can 'bide?
Let me excufe thee: ah! my love well knows
Her pretty looks have been mine enemies;
And therefore from my face the turns my foes,
That they elsewhere might dart their injuries :
Yet do not fo; but fince I am near lain,

Kill me out-right with looks, and rid my pain.
CXL.

Be wife as thou art cruel; do not prefs
My tongue-ty'd patience with too much difdain;
Left forrow 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 fo*;
(As tefty fick men, when their deaths be near,
No news but health from their phyficians know :)
For, if I fhould defpair, I fhould grow mad,
And in my madness might fpeak ill of thee:
Now this ill-wrefting world is grown fo bad,
Mad flanderers by mad ears believed be.

1

"Wound me not awith thine eye,] Thus, in Romeo and Juliet: he's already dead; fabb'd with a white wench's black eye." MALONE. Wound me not with thine eye, but with thy tongue;] So, in K, Henry VI. P. III;

"Ah, kill me with thy weapons, not thy words." STEEVENS.

-to tell me fo,] To tell me, thou doft love me. MALONE.

That I may not be fo, nor thou bely'd,
Bear thine eyes ftraight, though thy proud heart

go wide".

CXLI.

In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes,
For they in thee a thousand errors note;
But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise,
Who in despite of view is pleas'd to dote.
Nor are mine ears with thy tongue's tune delighted;
Nor tender feeling, to bafe touches prone,
Nor tafte nor fmell, defire to be invited
To any fenfual feaft with thee alone:
But my five wits, nor my five senses can
Diffuade one foolish heart from ferving thee,
Who leaves unfway'd the likeness of a man,
Thy proud heart's flave and vaffal wretch to be:
Only my plague thus far I count my gain,
That the that makes me fin, awards me pain.

CXLII.

Love is my fin, and thy dear virtue hate,
Hate of my fin, grounded on finful loving:
O but with mine compare thou thine own state,
And thou fhalt find it merits not reproving;
Or if it do, not from thofe lips of thine,
That have prophan'd their fcarlet ornaments,

Bear thine eyes ftraight, though thy proud heart go wide.] That is, (as it is expreffed in a former Sonnet)

"Thy looks with me, thy heart in other place.”

8 But my five wits nor my five fenfes can

MALONE.

Diffuade -] That is, but neither my wits nor senses

ean &c. So, in Measure for Measure:

"More nor lefs to others paying

"The wits, Dr. Johnfon obferves, feem to have been reckon. ed five, by analogy to the five fenfes, or the five inlets of ideas. Wit in our author's time was the general term for the intellectual power." MALONE.

And

And feal'd false bonds of love as oft as mine 9;
Robb'd others' beds revenues of their rents'.
Be it lawful I love thee, as thou lov❜ft those
Whom thine eyes woo as mine impòrtune thee:
Root pity in thy heart, that when it grows,
Thy pity may deferve to pity'd be.

If thou doft seek to have what thou doft hide,
By felf-example may'st thou be deny'd!

CXLIII.

Lo as a careful house-wife runs to catch
One of her feather'd creatures broke

away,
Sets down her babe, and makes all fwift difpatch.
In púrfuit of the thing fhe would have stay;
Whilft her neglected child holds her in chace,
Cries to catch her whofe bufy care is bent
To follow that which flies before her face,
Not prizing her poor infant's difcontent;
So run'ft thou after that which flies from thee,
Whilft I thy babe chace thee afar behind;
But if thou catch thy hope, turn back to me,
And play the mother's part, kifs me, be kind:
So will I pray that thou may'ft have thy Will,
If thou turn back, and my loud crying still 3.

CXLIV. • And feal'd falfe bonds of love as oft as mine ;] So, in our author's Venus and Adonis:

"Pure lips, sweet seals in my foft lips imprinted,
"What bargains may I make, ftill to be fealing?"

Again, in Measure for Meafure:

"Take, O take those lips away,

"That fo fweetly were forfworn,

"But my kiffes bring in again,

"Seals of love, but feal'd in vain.' MALONE.

Robb'd others' beds revenues of their rents,] So, in Othello: "And pour our treafures into foreign laps." STEEVENS. 2 Not prizing her poor infant's difcontent;] Not regarding, not making any account of her child's uneafinefs. MALONE.

that thou may'ft have thy Will,

If thou turn back, and my loud crying ftill.] The image with which this Sonnet begins, is at once pleafing and natural; but the conclufion of it is lame and impotent indeed. We attend

to

CXLIV.

Two loves I have of comfort and despair,
Which like two fpirits do fuggeft me still *;
The better angel is a man right fair,

The worfer fpirit, a woman, colour'd ill.
To win me foon to hell, my female evil
Tempteth my better angel from my fide,
And would corrupt my faint to be a devil,
Wooing his purity with her foul pride .
And whether that my angel be turn'd fiend,
Sufpect I may, yet not directly tell;

But being both from me, both to each friend,
I guess one angel in another's hell.

Yet this fhall I ne'er know, but live in doubt,
Till my bad angel fire my good one out".
CXLV.

Those lips that Love's own hand did make t†,
Breath'd forth the found that faid, I bate,
To me that languifh'd for her fake:
But when the faw my woeful ftate,

to the cries of the infant, but laugh at the loud blubberings of the great boy Will. STEEVENS.

*-do fuggeft me fill;] See p. 474. note 3. MALONE.

• Two loves I have &c.] This Sonnet was printed in The Paffionate Pilgrim, 1599, with fome flight variations. MALONE. 5 Tempteth my better angel from my fide,] The quarto hasfrom my fight. The true reading is found in The Pafionate Pil grim. MALONE.

Tempteth my better angel from my fide,] So, in Othello:

"Yea, curfe his better angel from bis fide." STEEVENS. with her foul pride.] The copy in The Paffionate Pilgrim has with her fair pride. MALONE.

7 But being both from me, The Paffionate Pilgrim readsto me. MALONE.

Yet this fhall I ne'er know,-] The Palonate Pilgrim reads:
MALONE.

The truth I fall not know

Till my bad angel fire my good one out.] So, in K. Lear: and fire us hence, like foxes." STEEVENS,

66

Thofe lips that Love's own hand did make,]

ofcula, quæ Venus

Quinta parte fui nectaris imbuit. Hor, MALONE,

Straight