William Shakespeare. 1564–1616

Sonnet CXI.

“O! for my sake do you with Fortune chide”

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,    5
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;   10
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.