- That god forbid, that made me first your slave,
- I should in thought control your times of pleasure,
- Or at your hand the account of hours to crave,
- Being your vassal, bound to stay your leisure!
- O! let me suffer, being at your beck,
- The imprison’d absence of your liberty;
- And patience, tame to sufferance, bide each check,
- Without accusing you of injury.
- Be where you list, your charter is so strong
- That you yourself may privilage your time
- To what you will; to you it doth belong
- Yourself to pardon of self-doing crime.
- I am to wait, though waiting so be hell,
- Not blame your pleasure be it ill or well.