Sonnet 111
O! for my sake do you with Fortune
chide
«William Shakespeare»
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 subdued
To what it works in,
like the dyer's hand:
Pity me then, and
wish I were renewed,
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.
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