letra de sonnet 40 - the marlowe society
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take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all;
what hast thou then more than thou hadst before?
no love, my love, that thou mayst true love call;
all mine was thine before thou hadst this more
then, if for my love thou my love receivest
i cannot blame thee for my love thou usest;
but yet be blamed, if thou thyself deceivest
by wilful taste of what thyself refusest
i do forgive thy robbery, gentlе thief
although thou steal thee all my poverty:
and yеt, love knows, it is a greater grief
to bear love’s wrong than hate’s known injury
lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows
k!ll me with spites; yet we must not be foes
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