Monday, March 16, 2015

Shakespeare : Trilogy on Love

Who most doth slander love The deed must alway prove. Truth shall excuse That you accuse, 4 For slander and reprove; Not by refuse, But by abuse You most do slander love. 8 Ye grant it is a snare And would us not beware. Lest that your train Should be too plain, 12 Ye colour all the care. Lo, how you feign, Pleasure for pain, And grant it is a snare. 16 To love and to be wise, It were a strange device! But from that taste Ye vow the fast, -- 20 On zyns though run your dice, Ambs-ace may haste Your pain to waste, To love, and to be wise. 24 Of all such pleasant days, Of all such pleasant plays, Without desert You have your part, 28 And all the world so says. Save that poor heart That for more smart Feeleth yet such pleasant days. 32 Such fire and such heat Did never make ye sweat, For without pain You best obtain 36 To good speed and to great. Who so doth plain, You best do feign Such fire and such heat. 40 Who now doth slander love?

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