To win me foon to hell, my female evil
Tempteth my better angel from my fide
And would corrupt my faint to be a dev
Wooing his purity with her foul pride 2.
And whether that my angel be turn'd fie
Sufpect I may, yet not directly tell;
But being both from me 3, both to each
I guess one angel in another's hell:

Yet this fhall I ne'er know, but live
Till my bad angel fire my good one qu

CXLV.

Thofe lips that Love's own hand did ma
Breath'd forth the found that faid, I hate
To me that languifh'd for her fake:
But when the faw my woeful ftate,
Straight in her heart did mercy come,
Chiding that tongue, that ever fweet
Was us'd in giving gentle doom;
And taught it thus a-new to greet:
I hate the alter'd with an end,
That follow'd it as gentle day

1 Tempteth my better angel from my fide,] So, in "Yea, curfe his better angel from bis fide.” The quarto has-from my fight. The true readi Paffionate Pilgrim. MALONE.

with her foul pride.] The copy in The Paffio with her fair pride. MALONE.

3 But being both from me,] The Paffionate Pi

4 Yet this fhall I ne'er know,-] The Paffionate. The truth I fhall not know. MALONE. 5 Till my bad angel fire my good one out.] So, in "and fire us hence, like foxes." STIEV • Thofe lips that love's own band did make,] -ofcula, quæ Venus

Quinta parte fui nectaris imbuit. Hor. M.

Doth follow night, who, like a fiend3,
From heaven to hell is flown away;

I hate from hate away fhe threw,
And fav'd my life, saying—not you?.

CXLVI.

Poor foul, the center of my sinful earth',

Fool'd by those rebel powers that thee array",

7 That follow'd it as gentle day

Doth follow night,] So, in Hamlet:

"And it must follow, as the night the day,

Why

"Thou canst not then be false to any man." MALONE.

8-night, who like a fiend] So, in King Henry V:

66 -night,

"Who like a foul and ugly witch," &c. STEEVENS.

9 I hate from hate away he threw,

And fav'd my life, faying-not you.] Such fenfe as these Sonnets abound with, may perhaps be difcovered as the words at prefent ftand; but I had rather read:

I bate-away from hate the flew, &c.

Having pronounced the words I hate, the left me with a declaration ia my favour. STEEVENS.

The meaning is-fhe removed the words I bate to a distance from batred; the changed their natural import, and rendered them ineffica cious, and undefcriptive of diflike, by fubjoining not you. The old copy is certainly right. The poet relates what the lady faid; he is not herfelf the fpeaker. We have the same kind of expression in The Rape of Lucrece:

"It cannot be, quoth fhe, that so much guile
"(She would have said) can lurk in fucb a look;

"But Tarquin's fhape came in her mind the while,

"And from her tongue can lurk from cannot took." MALONE. Poor foul, the center of my finful earth,] So, in Love's Labour's Loft: "Than thou, fair fun, which on my earth doth fhine.”

Again, in Romeo and Juliet:

"Can I go forward, while my heart is here?
"Turn back, dull earth, and find thy center out."

Again, in Hamlet:

"O, that the earth which kept the world in awe,
"Should patch a wall, to expell the winter's flaw!"

We meet with a fimilar allufion in The Merchant of Venice:
"Such harmony is in immortal fouls:

"But while this muddy vefture of decay

"Doth grofly clofe it in, we cannot hear it." MALONE.

a Fool'd by thafe rebel powers that thee array,] The old copy reads:

X 4

Poor

Why doft thou pine within, and fuffer dearth,
Painting thy outward walls fo coftly gay?
Why fo large coft, having fo fhort a leafe,
Doft thou upon thy fading manfion spend?
Shall worms, inheritors of this excess,
Eat up thy charge? Is this thy body's end?
Then, foul, live thou upon thy fervant's lofs,
And let that pine to aggravate thy ftore 3;
Buy terms divine in felling hours of drofs;
Within be fed, without be rich no more:

So fhalt thou feed on death, that feeds on men,
And, death once dead, there's no more dying then,

CXLVII.

My love is as a fever, longing still

For that which longer nurfeth the disease ;
Feeding on that which doth preferve the ill,
The uncertain fickly appetite to please.
My reafon, the phyfician to my love,
Angry that his prefcriptions are not kept,
Hath left me, and I defperate now approve,
Defire is death, which phyfick did except.

Poor foul, the center of my finful earth,

My finful earth these rebel pow'rs that thee array.

It is manifest that the compofitor inadvertently repeated the laft three words of the first verfe in the beginning of the fecond, omitting two fyllables, which are fufficient to complete the metre. What the omitted word or words were, it is impoffible now to determine. Rather than leave an hiatus, I have hazarded a conjecture, and filled up the line. MALONE.

I would read: Starv'd by the rebel powers, &c. The deartb complained of in the fucceeding line, appears to authorife the conjecture. The poet feems to allude to the short commons and gaudy habit of foldiers. STEEVENS.

3-to aggravate thy flore;] The error that has been fo often already noticed, has happened here; the original copy, and all the subsequent impreffions, reading my inftead of tby. MALONE.

4 My reafon, the phyfician to my love,] So, in The Merry Wives of Wirdfor: "Afk me no reason why I love you; for though love use reafon for his precifian, he admits him not for his counsellor." Dr. Farmer, with fome probability, would here read—for his phyfician.

MALONE.

Paft

Paft cure I am, now reason is past care,
And frantick-mad with ever-more unreft;
My thoughts and my difcourfe as madmen's are,
At random from the truth vainly exprefs'd;

For I have fworn thee fair, and thought thee bright, Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.

CXLVIII.

O me! what eyes hath love put in my head,
Which have no correfpondence with true fight!
Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled,
That cenfures falfely 7 what they fee aright?
If that be fair whereon my falfe eyes dote,
What means the world to say it is not fo?
If it be not, then love doth well denote
Love's eye is not so true as all men's: no,
How can it? O, how can Love's eye be true,
That is so vex'd with watching and with tears?
No marvel then though I miftake my view;
The fun itself fees not, till heaven clears.

O cunning Love! with tears thou keep'ft me blind,
Left eyes well-feeing thy foul faults fhould find.

CXLIX.

Canft thou, O cruel! fay I love thee not,
When I, against myself, with thee partake?

5 Paft cure I am, now reason is past care,] So, in Love's Labour's Loft:

"Great reafon; for paft cure is ftill past care."

It was a proverbial faying. See Holland's Leaguer, a pamphlet publifhed in 1632: She has got this adage in her mouth; Things paft cure, paft care." MALONE.

6-as black as bell, as dark as night.] So, in Love's Labour's Loft: "Black is the badge of bell,

"The hue of dungeons, and the fcowl of night." STEEVENS. 7 That cenfures falfely-] That estimates falfely. See Vol. IV. p. 149, n. 8. MALONE.

• When I, against myself, with thee partake?] i. e, take part with thee against myself. STEEVENS.

A partaker was in Shakspeare's time the term for an affociate or confederate in any business.` MALONE.

Do

Do I not think on thee, when I forgot
Am of myself, all tyrant, for thy fake 2?
Who hateth thee, that I do call my friend"?
On whom frown'ft thou that I do fawn upon
Nay, if thou low'rft on me, do I not spend
Revenge upon myself with prefent moan?
What merit do I in myself respect,
That is fo proud thy fervice to defpife,
When all my best doth worship thy defect,
Commanded by the motion of thine eyes

But, love, hate on, for now I know thy mind;
Those that can fee thou lov't, and I am blind.

CL.

O, from what power haft thou this powerful might,
With infufficiency my heart to fway?

To make me give the lie to my true fight,

And fwear that brightnefs doth not grace the day 3 ?
Whence haft thou this becoming of things ill,
That in the very refuse of thy deeds

The

9 -all tyrant, for thy fake?] That is, for the fake of thee, th tyrant. Perhaps however the authour wrote:

when I forgot

Am of myself, all truant for thy fake?

So, in the 10ft Sonnet:

"O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends

"For thy neglect of truth." MALONE.

Wbo bateth thee, that I do call my friend] This is from one of th Pfalms: "Do I not hate thofe that hate thee?" &c. STLEVENS. 2 Commanded by the motion of thine eyes ?] So, in Coriolanus: "Hewagid me with his countenance." STEEVENS.

Again, more appofitely, in Antony and Cleopatra:

"Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides,

"So many mermaids, tended.beri' the eyes,
"And made their bends adornings?" MALONE.

3 And swear that brightness doth not grace the day ] So, in Romee

and Juliet:

"I am content, if thou wilt have it fo:

"I'll fay, yon grey is not the morning's\eye," &C.]

STERVENS

4 Whence baft thou this becoming of things ill,] So, in Antony and Cleopatra: