The Sonnets and Other Poems (12 page)

‘Make me not
object
⁸⁰⁶
to the tell-tale day:
The light will show, charactered in my brow,
The story of sweet chastity’s decay,
The impious breach of holy wedlock vow.
Yea, the illiterate, that know not how
      To
cipher
⁸¹¹
what is writ in learnèd books,
      Will
quote
⁸¹²
my loathsome trespass
in my looks.

‘The nurse, to still her child, will tell my story
And fright her crying babe with Tarquin’s name.
The orator, to
deck
⁸¹⁵
his oratory,
Will
couple
⁸¹⁶
my reproach to Tarquin’s shame.
Feast-finding minstrels
⁸¹⁷
,
tuning my defame
,
      Will
tie
⁸¹⁸
the hearers to attend each line,
      How Tarquin wrongèd me,
I Collatine
⁸¹⁹
.

‘Let my good name, that
senseless reputation
⁸²⁰
,
For Collatine’s dear love be kept unspotted.
If that be made a
theme for disputation
⁸²²
,
The
branches of another root
⁸²³
are rotted,
And undeserved reproach to him allotted
      That is as
clear
⁸²⁵
from this
attaint
of mine
      As I, ere this, was pure to Collatine.

‘O unseen shame! Invisible disgrace!
O unfelt sore!
Crest-wounding
⁸²⁸
, private scar!
Reproach is stamped in Collatinus’ face,
And Tarquin’s eye may read the
mot
⁸³⁰
afar,
How he in peace is wounded, not in war.
      Alas, how many bear such shameful blows,
      Which not themselves, but he that gives them knows.

‘If, Collatine, thine honour lay in me,
From me by strong assault it is
bereft
⁸³⁵
:
My honey lost and I, a
drone-like
⁸³⁶
bee,
Have no
perfection
⁸³⁷
of my summer left,
But robbed and ransacked by
injurious
⁸³⁸
theft.
      In thy weak hive a wand’ring wasp hath crept
      And sucked the honey which thy chaste bee kept.

‘Yet am I guilty of thy honour’s
wrack
⁸⁴¹
,
Yet for thy honour did I
entertain him
⁸⁴²
:
Coming from thee, I could not
put him back
⁸⁴³
,
For it had been dishonour to
disdain
⁸⁴⁴
him.
Besides, of weariness he did complain him
      And talked of virtue — O unlooked-for evil
      When virtue is profaned in such a devil!

‘Why should the
worm
⁸⁴⁸
intrude the maiden bud?
Or hateful
cuckoos
⁸⁴⁹
hatch in sparrows’ nests?
Or toads infect fair
founts
⁸⁵⁰
with
venom
mud?
Or tyrant
folly
⁸⁵¹
lurk in
gentle
breasts?
Or kings be breakers of their own
behests
⁸⁵²
?
      But no perfection is so absolute
      That some impurity doth not pollute.

‘The agèd man that
coffers up
⁸⁵⁵
his gold
Is plagued with cramps and gouts and painful fits
And scarce hath eyes his treasure to behold,
But like
still-pining
⁸⁵⁸
Tantalus
he sits
And useless
barns
⁸⁵⁹
the harvest of his wits,
      Having no other pleasure of his gain
      But torment that it cannot cure his pain.

‘So then he hath it when he cannot use it
And leaves it to be mastered by his young,
Who in their pride do
presently
⁸⁶⁴
abuse it:
Their father was too weak and they too strong
To hold their cursèd-blessèd fortune long.
      The sweets we wish for turn to loathèd sours
      Even in the moment that we call them ours.

‘Unruly blasts wait on the tender spring,
Unwholesome weeds take root with precious flowers,
The adder hisses where the sweet birds sing,
What virtue breeds iniquity devours.
We have no good that we can say is ours,
      But
ill-annexèd Opportunity
⁸⁷⁴
     
Or
⁸⁷⁵
kills his life or else his
quality
.

‘O Opportunity, thy guilt is great!
’Tis thou that
execut’st
⁸⁷⁷
the traitor’s treason:
Thou
sets
⁸⁷⁸
the wolf where he the lamb may get.
Whoever plots the sin, thou
point’st
⁸⁷⁹
the
season
.
’Tis thou that
spurn’st
⁸⁸⁰
at right, at law, at reason,
      And in thy shady
cell
⁸⁸¹
, where none may spy him,
      Sits Sin, to seize the souls that wander by him.

‘Thou mak’st the
vestal
⁸⁸³
violate her oath,
Thou blow’st the fire when
temperance
⁸⁸⁴
is thawed,
Thou smother’st
honesty
⁸⁸⁵
; thou murd’rest
troth
:
Thou foul abettor, thou notorious bawd,
Thou plantest scandal and displacest
laud
⁸⁸⁷
.
      Thou ravisher, thou traitor, thou false thief,
      Thy honey turns to
gall
⁸⁸⁹
, thy joy to grief.

‘Thy secret pleasure turns to open shame,
Thy private feasting to a public fast,
Thy
smoothing
⁸⁹²
titles to a
ragged name
,
Thy sugared tongue to bitter
wormwood
⁸⁹³
taste:
Thy violent
vanities
⁸⁹⁴
can never last.
      How comes it then, vile Opportunity,
      Being so bad, such numbers seek for thee?

‘When wilt thou be the humble
suppliant’s
⁸⁹⁷
friend
And bring him where his suit may be obtained?
When wilt thou
sort
⁸⁹⁹
an hour great strifes to end?
Or free that soul which wretchedness hath chained?
Give
physic
⁹⁰¹
to the sick? Ease to the pained?
      The poor, lame, blind,
halt
⁹⁰²
, creep, cry out for thee,
      But they ne’er meet with Opportunity.

‘The patient dies while the physician sleeps,
The orphan
pines
⁹⁰⁵
while the oppressor feeds.
Justice is feasting while the widow weeps,
Advice
⁹⁰⁷
is
sporting
while infection breeds.
Thou grant’st no time for charitable deeds.
      Wrath, envy, treason, rape and murder’s rages,
      Thy heinous hours wait on them
as their pages
⁹¹⁰
.

‘When Truth and Virtue have to do with thee,
A thousand
crosses
⁹¹²
keep them from thy aid.
They buy thy help, but Sin ne’er gives a fee:
He
gratis
⁹¹⁴
comes and thou art well
apaid
As well to hear as grant what he hath said.
      My Collatine would
else
⁹¹⁶
have come to me
      When Tarquin did, but he was
stayed
⁹¹⁷
by thee.

‘Guilty thou art of murder and of theft,
Guilty of perjury and
subornation
⁹¹⁹
,
Guilty of treason, forgery and
shift
⁹²⁰
,
Guilty of incest, that abomination:
An accessary by thine
inclination
⁹²²
      To all sins past and all that are to come,
      From the creation to the
general doom
⁹²⁴
.

‘Misshapen Time,
copesmate
⁹²⁵
of ugly Night,
Swift subtle
post
⁹²⁶
,
carrier
of grisly care,
Eater of youth, false slave to false delight,
Base
watch of woes
⁹²⁸
, sin’s
packhorse
, virtue’s snare,
Thou nursest all and murd’rest all that are.
      O, hear me then, injurious, shifting Time,
      Be guilty of my death,
since of
⁹³¹
my crime.

‘Why hath thy servant, Opportunity,
Betrayed the hours thou gav’st me to repose?
Cancelled my fortunes and enchainèd me
To endless
date
⁹³⁵
of never-ending woes?
Time’s
office
⁹³⁶
is to
fine
the hate of foes,
      To eat up errors by
opinion
⁹³⁷
bred,
      Not spend the dowry of a lawful bed.

‘Time’s glory is to calm
contending
⁹³⁹
kings,
To unmask falsehood and bring truth to light,
To stamp the seal of time in agèd things,
To wake the morn and
sentinel
⁹⁴²
the night,
To wrong the wronger till he render right,
      To
ruinate
⁹⁴⁴
proud buildings with thy hours
      And smear with dust their glitt’ring golden towers,

‘To fill with worm-holes stately monuments,
To feed oblivion with decay of things,
To blot old books and alter their contents,
To pluck the
quills
⁹⁴⁹
from ancient ravens’ wings,
To dry the old oak’s sap and cherish
springs
⁹⁵⁰
,
      To spoil antiquities of hammered steel
      And turn the giddy round of
Fortune’s wheel
⁹⁵²
,

‘To show the
beldame
⁹⁵³
daughters of her daughter,
To make the child a man, the
man a child
⁹⁵⁴
,
To slay the tiger that doth live by slaughter,
To tame the unicorn and lion wild,
To mock
the subtle
⁹⁵⁷
in themselves beguiled
,
      To cheer the ploughman with
increaseful
⁹⁵⁸
crops
      And
waste
⁹⁵⁹
huge stones with little water drops.

‘Why work’st thou
mischief
⁹⁶⁰
in thy pilgrimage,
Unless thou couldst return to make amends?
One poor
retiring
⁹⁶²
minute in an age
Would purchase thee a thousand thousand friends,
Lending him wit that to bad debtors lends
⁹⁶⁴
.
      O, this dread Night, wouldst thou one hour come back,
      I could prevent this storm and shun thy wrack.

‘Thou
ceaseless lackey
⁹⁶⁷
to eternity,
With some mischance
cross
⁹⁶⁸
Tarquin in his flight,
Devise extremes beyond extremity
To make him curse this cursèd crimeful night,
Let
ghastly
⁹⁷¹
shadows his
lewd
eyes affright,
      And the dire thought of his committed evil
      Shape every bush a hideous shapeless devil.

‘Disturb his hours of rest with restless
trances
⁹⁷⁴
,
Afflict him in his bed with bedrid groans,
Let there
bechance
⁹⁷⁶
him pitiful mischances
To make him moan, but pity not his moans.
Stone him with hardened hearts harder than stones,
      And let mild women to him lose their mildness,
      Wilder to him than tigers in their wildness.

‘Let him have time to tear his curlèd hair,
Let him have time against himself to rave,
Let him have time of Time’s help to despair,
Let him have time to live a loathèd slave,
Let him have time a beggar’s
orts
⁹⁸⁵
to crave,
      And time to see
one that by alms doth live
⁹⁸⁶
     
Disdain to him
⁹⁸⁷
disdainèd
scraps to give.

‘Let him have time to see his friends his foes
And merry fools
to mock at him resort
⁹⁸⁹
,
Let him have time to mark how slow time goes
In time of sorrow and how swift and short
His time of folly and his time of
sport
⁹⁹²
.
      And ever let his
unrecalling
⁹⁹³
crime
      Have time to wail
th’abusing
⁹⁹⁴
of his time.

‘O Time, thou tutor both to good and bad,
Teach me to curse him
that
⁹⁹⁶
thou taught’st this ill.
At his own shadow let the thief run mad,
Himself himself seek every hour to kill:
Such wretched hands such wretched blood should spill,
      For who so base would such an office have
      As
sland’rous deathsman
¹⁰⁰¹
to so base a slave?

‘The baser is he,
coming
¹⁰⁰²
from a king,
To shame his
hope
¹⁰⁰³
with deeds degenerate.
The mightier man, the mightier is the thing
That makes him honoured or
begets him hate
¹⁰⁰⁵
:
For greatest scandal
waits on
¹⁰⁰⁶
greatest
state
.
      The moon being clouded
presently
¹⁰⁰⁷
is missed,
      But little stars may hide them when they list.

‘The crow may bathe his coal-black wings in
mire
¹⁰⁰⁹
And unperceived fly with the filth away,
But if the
like
¹⁰¹¹
the snow-white swan desire,
The stain upon his silver down will stay.
Poor
grooms
¹⁰¹³
are sightless night, kings glorious day,
      Gnats are unnoted wheresoe’er they fly,
      But eagles gazed upon with every eye.

‘
Out
¹⁰¹⁶
,
idle
words, servants to shallow fools,
Unprofitable sounds, weak
arbitrator
¹⁰¹⁷
s!
Busy yourselves in
skill-contending schools
¹⁰¹⁸
,
Debate where leisure serves with dull debaters,
To trembling clients be you mediators.
      For me, I
force not argument a straw
¹⁰²¹
,
      Since that my
case
¹⁰²²
is past the help of law.

‘In vain I
rail
¹⁰²³
at Opportunity,
At Time, at Tarquin and uncheerful Night,
In vain I
cavil
¹⁰²⁵
with mine infamy,
In vain I
spurn
¹⁰²⁶
at my
confirmed despite
:
This helpless smoke of words doth me no right.
      The remedy indeed to do me good
      Is to
let forth my foul defilèd blood
¹⁰²⁹
.