Читать книгу The Complete Works of Shakespeare онлайн

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And let her read it in thy looks at board:

Shame hath a bastard fame, well managed;

Ill deeds is doubled with an evil word.

Alas, poor women, make us [but] believe

(Being compact of credit) that you love us;

Though others have the arm, show us the sleeve:

We in your motion turn, and you may move us.

Then, gentle brother, get you in again;

Comfort my sister, cheer her, call her [wife]:

’Tis holy sport to be a little vain,

When the sweet breath of flattery conquers strife.

S. Ant.

Sweet mistress—what your name is else, I know not,

Nor by what wonder you do hit of mine—

Less in your knowledge and your grace you show not

Than our earth’s wonder, more than earth divine.

Teach me, dear creature, how to think and speak:

Lay open to my earthy gross conceit,

Smoth’red in errors, feeble, shallow, weak,

The folded meaning of your words’ deceit.

Against my soul’s pure truth why labor you,

To make it wander in an unknown field?

Are you a god? Would you create me new?

Transform me then, and to your pow’r I’ll yield.