My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain;
Lest sorrow lend me words and words express
The manner of my pity-wanting pain.
If I might teach thee wit, better it were,
Though not to love, yet, love, to tell me so;
As testy sick men, when their deaths be near,
No news but health from their physicians know;
For if I should despair, I should grow mad,
And in my madness might speak ill of thee:
Now this ill-wresting world is grown so bad,
Mad slanderers by mad ears believed be,
That I may not be so, nor thou belied,
Bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart go wide.
你狠心,也該放聰明;別讓侮蔑
把我不作聲的忍耐逼得太甚;
免得悲哀賜我喉舌,讓你領(lǐng)略
我的可憐的痛苦會怎樣發(fā)狠。
你若學(xué)了乖,愛呵,就覺得理應(yīng)
對我說你愛我,縱使你不如此;
好像暴躁的病人,當(dāng)死期已近,
只愿聽醫(yī)生報告健康的消息;
因為我若是絕望,我就會發(fā)瘋,
瘋狂中難保不把你胡亂咒罵:
這乖張世界是那么不成體統(tǒng),
瘋狂的耳總愛聽瘋子的壞話。
要我不發(fā)瘋,而你不遭受誹謗,
你得把眼睛正視,盡管心放蕩。