If thy soul check thee that I come so near,Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy 'Will',And will thy soul knows is admitted there,Thus far for love, my love-suit sweet fulfil.
'Will', will fulfil the treasure of thy love,Ay, fill it full with wills, and my will one,In things of great receipt with case we prove,Among a number one is reckoned none.
Then in the number let me pass untold,Though in thy store's account I one must be,For nothing hold me, so it please thee hold,That nothing me, a something sweet to thee.
Make but my name thy love, and love that still,And then thou lov'st me for my name is Will.
