Page 2281 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

«Fair torch, burn out the light, and lend it not [190]
To darken her whose light excelleth thine;
And die, unhallow’d thoughts, before you blot
With your uncleanness that which is divine;

Offer pure incense to so pure a shrine.
Let fair humanity abhor the deed [195]
That spots and stains love’s modest snow-white weed.

«O shame to knighthood and to shining arms!

O foul dishonour to my household’s grave!
O impious act including all foul harms!
A martial man to be soft fancy’s slave! [200]
True valour still a true respect should have.
Then my digression is so vile, so base,

That it will live engraven in my face.

«Yea, though I die the scandal will survive
And be an eye-sore in my golden coat; [205]
Some loathsome dash the herald will contrive,
To cipher me how fondly I did dote:

That my posterity sham’d with the note,
Shall curse my bones, and hold it for no sin
To wish that I their father had not been. [210]

«What win I if I gain the thing I seek?

A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy.
Who buys a minute’s mirth to wail a week,
Or sells eternity to get a toy?
For one sweet grape who will the vine destroy? [215]

Or what fond beggar, but to touch the crown,
Would with the sceptre straight be strucken down?

«If Collatinus dream of my intent,
Will he not wake, and in a desp’rate rage
Post hither, this vile purpose to prevent? − [220]

This siege that hath engirt his marriage,
This blur to youth, this sorrow to the sage,