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LVIII



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.

 	--William Shakespeare

CXV



Those lines that I before have writ do lie,

Even those that said I could not love you dearer:

Yet then my judgment knew no reason why

My most full flame should afterwards burn clearer.

But reckoning Time, whose million\'d accidents

Creep in \'twixt vows, and change decrees of kings,

Tan sacred beauty, blunt the sharp\'st intents,

Divert strong minds to the course of altering things;

Alas! why fearing of Time\'s tyranny,

Might I not then say, \'Now I love you best,\'

When I was certain o\'er incertainty,

Crowning the present, doubting of the rest?

  Love is a babe, then might I not say so,

  To give full growth to that which still doth grow?



CXVI



Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth\'s unknown, although his height be taken.

Love\'s not Time\'s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle\'s compass come;

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

  If this be error and upon me prov\'d,

  I never writ, nor no man ever lov\'d.

 	--William Shakespeare

After about 20 years of marriage, I\'m finally starting to scratch the
surface of what women want. And I think the answer lies somewhere between
conversation and chocolate.
Mel Gibson