Internet Shakespeare Editions

Toolbox




Jump to line
Through Line Number
Help on texts
About this text
Print this page

About this text

  • Title: The Sonnets (Modern)
  • Editor: Michael Best

    • Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Michael Best
    Not Peer Reviewed

    The Sonnets (Modern)

    136
    If thy soul check thee that I come so near,
    Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy Will,
    And will, thy soul knows, is admitted there;
    2030Thus far for love my love-suit sweet fulfil.
    Will will fulfil the treasure of thy love,
    Ay, fill it full with wills, and my will one;
    In things of great receipt with ease we prove
    Among a number one is reckoned none.
    2035Then in the number let me pass untold,
    Though in thy store's account I one must be.
    For nothing hold me, so it please thee hold
    That nothing, me, a something sweet to thee.
    Make but my name thy love, and love that still,
    2040 And then thou lov'st me, for my name is Will.
    137
    Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes,
    That they behold, and see not what they see?
    They know what beauty is, see where it lies,
    2045Yet what the best is, take the worst to be.
    If eyes, corrupt by over-partial looks,
    Be anchored in the bay where all men ride,
    Why of eyes' falsehood hast thou forgèd hooks,
    Whereto the judgment of my heart is tied?
    2050Why should my heart think that a several plot
    Which my heart knows the wide world's common place?
    Or mine eyes, seeing this, say this is not,
    To put fair truth upon so foul a face?
    In things right true my heart and eyes have erred,
    2055 And to this false plague are they now transferred.
    138
    When my love swears that she is made of truth,
    I do believe her, though I know she lies,
    That she might think me some untutored youth
    2060Unlearnèd in the world's false subtleties.
    Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
    Although she knows my days are past the best,
    Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue;
    On both sides thus is simple truth suppressed.
    2065But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
    And wherefore say not I that I am old?
    O love's best habit is in seeming trust,
    And age in love loves not to have years told.
    Therefore I lie with her, and she with me,
    2070 And in our faults by lies we flattered be.
    About
    Contact us
    Content quality
    Site guide
    © Internet Shakespeare Editions
    Copyright details
    Privacy policy
    This site is supported by:
    University of Victoria
    Friends of the ISE
    SSHRC