s, {420b}
Not once vouchsafe to hide my will in thine?
Shall will in others seem right gracious,
And in my will no fair acceptance shine?
The sea, all water, yet receives rain still,
And in abundance addeth to his store;
So thou, being rich in will, add to thy will
One will of mine, to make thy large will more.
Let no unkind no fair beseechers kill;
Think all but one, and me in that one--Will.

Sonnet cxxxv.

In the opening words, 'Whoever hath her wish,' the poet prepares the
reader for the punning encounter by a slight variation on the current
catch-phrase 'A woman will have her will.' At the next moment we are in
the thick of the wordy fray. The lady has not only her lover named Will,
but untold stores of 'will'--in the sense alike of stubbornness and of
lust--to which it seems supererogatory to make addition. {421c} To the
lady's 'over-plus' of 'will' is punningly attributed her defiance of the
'will' of her suitor Will to enjoy her favours. At the same time 'will'
in others proves to her 'right gracious,' {422a} although in him it is
unacceptable. All this, the poet hazily argues, should be otherwise; for
as the sea, although rich in water, does not refuse the falling rain, but
freely adds it to its abundant store, so she, 'rich in will,' should
accept her lover Will's 'will' and 'make her large will more.' The poet
sums up his ambition in the final couplet:

Let no unkind no fair beseechers kill;
Think all but one, and me in that one--Will.

This is as much as to say, 'Let not my mistress in her unkindness kill
any of her fair-spoken adorers. Rather let her think all who beseech her
favours incorporate in one alone of her lovers--and that one the writer
whose name of "Will" is a synonym for the passions that dominate her.'
The thought is wiredrawn to inanity, but the words make it perfectly
clear that the poet was the only one of the lady's lovers--to the
definite exclusion of all others--whose name justified the quibbling
pretence of identity with the 'will' which controls her being.

Sonnet cxxxvi.

The same equivocating conceit of the poet Will's title to identity with
the lady's 'will' in all senses is pursued in Sonnet cxxxvi. The sonnet
opens:

If thy soul check thee that I come so near,
Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy will, {422b}
And will thy soul knows is admitted there.

Here Shakespeare adapts to his punn