Читать книгу The Complete Works of Shakespeare онлайн

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Are my discourses dull? Barren my wit?

If voluble and sharp discourse be marr’d,

Unkindness blunts it more than marble hard.

Do their gay vestments his affections bait?

That’s not my fault, he’s master of my state.

What ruins are in me that can be found,

By him not ruin’d? Then is he the ground

Of my defeatures. My decayed fair

A sunny look of his would soon repair.

But, too unruly deer, he breaks the pale,

And feeds from home; poor I am but his stale.

Luc.

Self-harming jealousy—fie, beat it hence!

Adr.

Unfeeling fools can with such wrongs dispense:

I know his eye doth homage otherwhere,

Or else what lets it but he would be here?

Sister, you know he promis’d me a chain;

Would that alone a’ love he would detain,

So he would keep fair quarter with his bed!

I see the jewel best enamelled

Will lose his beauty; yet the gold bides still

That others touch and, often touching, will

Where gold; and no man that hath a name

By falsehood and corruption doth it shame.

Since that my beauty cannot please his eye,