SONNET 23 As an unperfect actor on the stage,
Who with his fear is put beside his part,
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,
Whose strength's abundance weakens his own heart;
So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
The perfect ceremony of love's rite,
And in mine own love's strength seem to decay,
O'ercharged with burthen of mine own love's might.
O! let my looks be then the eloquence
And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,
Who plead for love, and look forrecompense,
More than that tongue that more hath more express'd.
O! learn to read what silent lovehath writ:
To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit. Having committed himself perhaps more than he intended, the poet now has to explain why at times he is tongue-tied in his love's company. It is, he says, mainly due to the magnitude of his love, the hugeness of it being such that it becomes like a burden almost too large to carry. He is like an actor who cannot remember his lines, or a wild beast in a fury thrashing around in futility, unable to achieve anything. Let his love come to the rescue by understanding his looks, how they speak silently, how they foretell the store of love which is buried within, even more so than that other (poet? lover?) who is so glib with his tongue. Although love is blind, he has the ability, if he wishes, to hear with his eyes Divers doth use, as I have heardand know, When that to change their ladies do begin, To moan and wail, and never for to lin, Hoping thereby to pease their painful woe. And some there be, that when it chanceth soThat women change, and hate where love hath been, They call them false, and think with words to win The hearts of them which otherwhere doth go. But as for me, though that by chance indeed Change hath out-worn the favour that I had, I will not wail, lament, nor yet be sad, Nor call her false that falsley did me feed, But let it pass and think it is of kind, That often change doth please a woman's mind. Dyvers doth use as I have hard and kno, When that to chaunge ther ladies do beginne, To mone and waile, and never for to lynne, Hoping therby to pease their painefull woo. And some ther be, that when itchaunceth soo That women chaunge, and hate wher love hath bene, Thei call them fals, and think with wordes to wynne The hartes of them which otherwhere doth goo. But as for me, though that by chaunse indede Change hath out-worne the favor that I had, I will not wayle, lament, nor yet be sad, Nor call her fals that falsley dedme fede : But let it passe and think it isof kinde, That often chaunge doeth plese a womans minde. NOTES Divers = various people.doth use = are accustomed to.to lin = to cease.pease = appease, pacify.did me feed = fed me (with hopes).of kind = natural.
