I cannot, nor I will not, hold me still;My tongue, though not my heart, shall have his will.

My heart prays for him, though my tongue do curse.

Sweet, bid me hold my tongue,For in this rapture I shall surely speakThe thing I shall repent.

Not marble, nor the gilded monumentsOf princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme.

Man delights not me; no, nor woman neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so.

And whatsoever else shall hap tonight, Give it an understanding, but no tongue