Did ever so long hast grievance scarced all happiness? That all the world\'s province canst not be blunter. For your heart is far too poisoned with sorrow to bring comfort hitherward. I am to you bound, and with unborrowed eyes I am myself not so merit. Thou who art far more flourished by every vow\'d constancy, to be the more enchanting. By blunting wits are mine oaths more keen. And many there were, that did fonder eyes subdue. For when we rage, were perjured oaths oft seen? Ne\'er hast I vow-broke to misuse thee. And I have twenty vow\'s of honest faith, that I am to love thee swearing. For all my oaths are of new love bearing. And if I should break but one, then letst I be the young fool of treason. That thou who\'s dear love may break thy own vow with no greater reason.