  113-115, 135-146.   . (7).  
 


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  113-115, 135-146.   . (7)

 



 



 ,2019



ISBN978-5-4496-5279-9 (. 7)

ISBN978-5-4496-3971-4

     Ridero







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 1.   113115135146





 1.  113115.   


   113115    ,    107112.

     ,     ,  -  ,  ,      .

   , ,  ,          88.

  ,     ,       , ..   ,  ,      107121  .

   ,  堖  ,    .




113


 ,        .

       .  ,  ,    ,     ,    .

    ,    107108.

 , , . ,  頖  .

   ? ,    ,      109112?

 ,   ,   . Ÿ  :       Since Ileft you.

,       ,     .

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        ,       .

		 113.  
		Since Ileft you, mine eye is inmy mind,
		And that which governs me togo about
		Doth part his function, and is partly blind,
		Seems seeing, but effectually isout;
		For it no form delivers tothe heart
		Ofbird, offlowr, or shape, which it doth latch:
		Ofhis quick objects hath the mind no part;
		Nor his own vision holds what it doth catch:
		For if it see the rudst or gentlest sight,
		The most sweet favour or deformedst creature,
		The mountain, or the sea, the day, or. night,
		The crow, or dove, it shapes them toyour feature.
		Incapable ofmore, replete withyou,
		My most true mind thus maketh mine eye untrue.

,  ,   (.  109112)   ,       .




114


  .

   ,    蠖  ,     113,     .

   .

		 114.  
		Or whether doth my mind being crowned withyou
		Drink-up the monarchs plague, this flattery?
		Or whether shall Isay mine eye saith true,
		And that your love taught it this alchemy,
		Tomake ofmonsters, and things indigest.
		Such cherubins as your sweet self resemble,
		Creating every bad aperfect best,
		As fast as objects tohis beams assemble?
		Πtis the first; tis flattry inmy seeing,
		And my great mind most kingly drinks itup;
		Mine eye well knows what with his gust is greeing,
		And tohis palate doth prepare thecup.
		If it be poisoned, tis the lessersin
		That mine eye loves it and doth first begin.

 ,         (堖  37, 91, 107).      :      蠖 Or whether doth my mind being crowned with you.

        ,   (,  91),   ,     ,  .




115


  ,   ,     ,  ,  ,       .

		 115.  
		Those lines that Ibefore have writ dolie,
		Even those that said Icould not love you dearer;
		Yet then my judgment knew no reasonwhy
		My most full flame should afterwards burn clearer.
		But reckoning Time, whose millioned accidents
		Creep intwixt vows, and change decrees ofkings,
		Tan sacred beauty, blunt the sharpst intents,
		Divert strong minds tothcourse ofaltring things
		Alas, why, fearing ofTimes tyranny,
		Might Inot then say Now Ilove you best,
		When Iwas certain oer incertainty,
		Crowning the present, doubting ofthe rest?
		Love is ababe: then might Inot sayso,
		Togive full growth tothat which still doth grow.

      ,       .

  ,    115 ,    :

1.   110111,       .   ( 110),  ,  ( 111).        112114   115  .

2.   102,      . ,  115   ,    ,  :     Those lines that Ibefore have writ do lie, Even those that said Icould not love you dearer     102  .

3.   42,          . ,     42   ,   ,   .   115   ,    ,     , ..   .       ( 42) ,  . Ƞ  , ..     ,   .

4.   20,         ,     .

,   115  .

     .    ,  ,  .   ,      ,        .




 2.  135143.   


  135143    ,       ,   ࠖ     ,  ,      , ,  ,   ,     .




135


   ,         :     Whoever hath her wish.

      .

		 135.  
		Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy Will,
		And Will toboot, and Will inoverplus;
		More than enough am Ithat vex thee still,
		Tothy sweet will making addition thus.
		Wilt thou, whose will is large and spacious,
		Not once vouchsafe tohide my will inthine?
		Shall will inothers seem right gracious,
		And inmy will no fair acceptance shine?
		The sea, all water, yet receives rain still,
		And inabundance addeth tohis store;
		So thou being rich inWill, add tothyWill
		One will ofmine, tomake thy large Will more.
		Let no unkind, no fair beseechers kill;
		Think all but one, and me inthat one Will.

 ,     ,     133134. ,  ,         .            ,    .




136


		 136.  
		If thy soul check thee that Icome so near,
		Swear tothy blind soul that Iwas thy Will,
		And will thy soul knows is admitted there;
		Thus far for love, my love-suit, sweet, fulfil.
		Will will fulfil the treasure ofthy love,
		Ay, fill it full with wills, and my willone.
		Inthings ofgreat receipt with ease we prove
		Among anumber one is reckoned none:
		Then inthe number let me-pass untold,
		Though inthy stores account Ione mustbe;
		For nothing hold me, so it please theehold
		That nothing me, asomething sweet tothee.
		Make but my name thy love, and love that still,
		And then thou lovest me for my name is Will.

   136   :     蠖 Thus far for love, my love-suit, sweet, fulfil.

    .

     135.

   Will/will,     ,  .




137


  .

,     ,  .

     ,    , ,  :      ꠖ Toput fair truth upon so foul aface,   .

		 137.  
		Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou tomine eyes,
		That they behold, and see not what theysee?
		They know what beauty is, see where it lies,
		Yet what the best is take the worst tobe.
		If eyes, corrupt byover-partial looks,
		Be anchored inthe bay where all men ride,
		Why ofeyes falsehood hast thou forged hooks,
		Whereto the judgement ofmy heart is tied?
		Why should my heart think that aseveral plot,
		Which my heart knows the wide worlds common place?
		Or mine eyes seeing this, say this isnot,
		Toput fair truth upon so foul aface?
		Inthings right true my heart and eyes have erred,
		And tothis false plague are they now transferred.

,       ,   , ,   .

         .

      ,    129130,       :     젖 If eyes, corrupt byover-partial looks,   :      Inthings right true my heart and eyes have erred.

 ,     ,             .




138


    ,  ,      :   ,   ࠖ When my love swears that she is made oftruth.

  .

   .

		 138.   1600(09)
		When my love swears that she is made oftruth,
		Ido believe her, though Iknow she lies,
		That she might think me some untutored youth,
		Unlearned inthe worlds false subtleties.
		Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
		Although she knows my days are past the best,
		Simply Icredit her false-speaking tongue:
		On both sides thus is simple truth suppressed.
		But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
		And wherefore say not Ithat Iamold?
		O, loves best habit is inseeming trust,
		And age inlove loves not thave years told.
		Therefore Ilie with her, and she withme,
		And inour faults bylies we flatteredbe.




139


  ,    .

             ,   :  ,    Dear heart, forbear toglance thine eye aside.

   .    .   .

		 139.  
		Πcall not me tojustify the wrong
		That thy unkindness lays upon my heart;
		Wound me not with thine eye but with thy tongue;
		Use power with power, and slay me not byart.
		Tell me thou lovst elsewhere; but inmy sight,
		Dear heart, forbear toglance thine eye aside;
		What needst thou wound with cunning when thy might
		Is more than my oerpressed defense can bide?
		Let me excuse thee: Ah, my love well knows
		Her pretty looks have been mine enemies,
		And therefore from my face she turns my foes,
		That they elsewhere might dart their injuries.
		Yet do not so, but since Iam near slain,
		Kill me outright with looks, and rid my pain.




140


    : ,   ࠖ Be wise as thou art cruel, do not press,      ࠖ  .

		 140.  
		Be wise as thou art cruel, do not press
		My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain,
		Lest sorrow lend me words, and words express
		The manner ofmy pity-wanting pain.
		If Imight teach thee wit, better it were,
		Though not tolove, yet, love, totell me so
		As testy sick men, when their deaths be near,
		No news but health from their physicians know.
		For if Ishould despair, Ishould growmad,
		And inmy madness might speak ill ofthee;
		Now this ill-wresting world is grown sobad,
		Mad slanderers bymad ears believedbe,
		That Imay not be so, nor thou belied,
		Bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart go wide.

     ,  ,   .

 .     ,      ,     .

   140   ,        , .

    141,       .   .




141


  ࠖ  , ,         , :     ࠖ Nor tender feeling tobase touches prone.   .

		 141.  
		Infaith, Ido not love thee with mine eyes,
		For they inthee athousand errors note,
		But tis my heart that loves what they despise,
		Who indespite ofview is pleased todote.
		Nor are mine ears with thy tongues tune delighted,
		Nor tender feeling tobase touches prone,
		Nor taste, nor smell, desire tobe invited
		Toany sensual feast with thee alone;
		But my five wits nor my five sensescan
		Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee,
		Who leaves unswayed the likeness ofaman,
		Thy proud hearts slave and vassal wretch tobe.
		Only my plague thus far Icount my gain,
		That she that makes me sin awards me pain.




142


  141  .     :      Robbed others beds revenues oftheir rents.

  .

		 142.  
		Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate,
		Hate ofmy sin, grounded on sinful loving.
		Πbut with mine compare thou thine own state,
		And thou shalt find it merits not reproving,
		Or if it do, not from those lips ofthine,
		That have profaned their scarlet ornaments,
		And seald false bonds oflove as oft as mine,
		Robbed others beds revenues oftheir rents.
		Be it lawful Ilove thee, as thou lovst those
		Whom thine eyes woo as mine importune thee:
		Root pity inthy heart, that when it grows
		Thy pity may deserve topitiedbe.
		If thou dost seek tohave what thou dost hide,
		Byself-example mayst thou be denied.




143


      :      Lo, as acareful housewife runs tocatch.

    .

,   135,   ࠖ .

		 143.  
		Lo, as acareful housewife runs tocatch
		One ofher feathered creatures broke away,
		Sets down her babe and makes all swift dispatch
		Inpursuit ofthe thing she would have stay,
		Whilst her neglected child holds her inchase,
		Cries tocatch her whose busy care isbent
		Tofollow that which flies before her face,
		Not prizing her poor infants discontent:
		So runnst thou after that which flies from thee,
		Whilst I, thy babe, chase thee afar behind;
		But if thou catch thy hope, turn back tome,
		And play the mothers part, kiss me, be kind:
		So will Ipray that thou mayst have thy Will,
		If thou turn back, and my loud crying still.

 ,  ,  , ,  ,     ,       .            ,   .     .

     ,        ,      135143  , ,      .




 3.  144146.  


 144146    ,     ,   ࠖ    , ,     ,     ⠖   .    ,         ,    ,  .




144


  , ,     .     , , ,    .

		 144. 2- .  
		Two loves Ihave, ofcomfort and despair,
		Which like two spirits do suggest me still:
		The better angel is aman right fair;
		The worser spirit awoman colouredill.
		Towin me soon tohell, my femaleevil
		Tempteth my better angel from my side,
		And would corrupt my saint tobe adevil,
		Wooing his purity with her foul pride.
		And whether that my angel be turned fiend
		Suspect Imay, but not directly tell,
		But being both from me, both toeach friend,
		Iguess one angel inanothers hell.
		Yet this shall Ineer know, but live indoubt,
		Till my bad angel fire my good oneout.

       .

 頖  : The worser spirit awoman coloured ill     ., , , ,   ,     .

   頖 But being both from me, both toeach friend      .

     ,    ,      .

          134  ,   .

        .




145


   , ,      ,    .

    : Tome that languishd for her sake ,    ,   ,    .

		 145.  
		Those lips that Loves own hand didmake
		Breathed forth the sound that said Ihate
		Tome that languishd for her sake;
		But when she saw my woeful state,
		Straight inher heart did mercy come,
		Chiding that tongue that ever sweet
		Was used ingiving gentle doom,
		And taught it thus anew togreet:
		Ihate she altered with anend,
		That followd it as gentleday
		Doth follow night, who like afiend
		From heaven tohell is flown away;
		Ihate from hate away she threw,
		And saved my life, saying not you.




146


    . Ƞ    .         .         .   , ,    -   .

		 146.  
		Poor soul, the centre ofmy sinful earth,
		these rebel powers that thee array;
		Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth,
		Painting thy outward walls so costlygay?
		Why so large cost, having so short alease,
		Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend?
		Shall worms, inheritors ofthis excess,
		Eat up thy charge? is this thy bodysend?
		Then soul, live thou upon thy servants loss,
		And let that pine toaggravate thy store;
		Buy terms divine inselling hours ofdross;
		Within be fed, without be rich no more:
		So shalt thou feed on Death, that feeds onmen,
		And Death once dead, theres no more dying then.

  ,  ,   ,           : Then soul, live thou upon thy servants loss  ,     ,    .

      ,       .

   ,      ,   .




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