Embedded Files
That God forbid, that made me first your slave,
I should in thought controule your times of pleasure,
Or at your hand th'account of houres to crave,
Being your vassail bound to staie your leisure.
Oh let me suffer (being at your beck)
Th'imprison'd absence of your libertie,
And patience tame, to sufferance bide each cheek,
Without accusing you of injury.
Be where you list, your charter is so strong,
That you your selfe may priviledge your time
To what you will, to you it doth belong,
Your selfe to pardon of selfe-doing crime.
I am to waite, though waiting so be hell,
Not blame your pleasure be it ill or well.
Commentary
Commentary
Address to his lord, his beloved
Address to his lord, his beloved
In the first quatrain, the poet engages not to ask for an account of where his beloved goes, since he (the poet) is his (the beloved's) slave, and must wait his leisure.
In the second quatrain, the poet seeks to suffer punishment (imprisonment) in the beloved's absence and liberty to come and go as he pleases (imprison'd absence of your liberty), to wait tamely patient for his return (patience tame), to offer the other cheek to insults (to sufferance bide each cheek), and to do all this without complaining (accusing you of injury).
In the third quatrain, the poet avers that the beloved's time is his to do as he pleases, for good or ill.
In the final quatrain, the poet undertakes to wait, though waiting be hell, and not to blame, whether what transpires is good or ill.
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