| 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, | 5 |
| 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 privilege your time | 10 |
| 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. |