O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide,
The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds,
That did not better for my life provide
Than public means which public manners breeds.
Thence comes it that my name receives a brand,
And almost thence my nature is subdu'd
To what it works in, like the dyer's hand.
Pity me then and wish I were renew'd;
Whilst, like a willing patient, I will drink
Potions of eisel 'gainst my strong infection;
No bitterness that I will bitter think,
Nor double penance, to correct correction.
Pity me then, dear friend, and I assure ye
Even that your pity is enough to cure me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The allusions in this Sonnet to Shakespeare's profession as an actor are not to be doubted. To this cause the poet attributes his errors. Poverty, compelling him to gain a livelihood by catering for public entertainment, was the source of his faults and of the scandal which they had occasioned. He would fain, at almost any cost, purify himself from the stain. He deserves to be pitied by his friend, rather than to be blamed.