Then, as if conscious upon how unstable a foundation he had built his love, he expresses his fear lest he should be betrayed, yet remain unconscious of the wrong.
For there can live no hatred in thine eye,
Therefore in that I cannot know thy change!
In many looks, the false heart's history
Is writ in moods and frowns, and wrinkles strange.
But heaven in thy creation did decree,
That in thy face sweet love should ever dwell.
He bitterly reproaches her with her levity and falsehood, and himself that he can be thus unworthily enslaved,—
What potions have I drunk of Syren tears, &c.
Then, with lover-like inconsistency, excuses her,—
As on the finger of a throned queen
The basest jewel will be well esteemed:
So are those errors that in thee are seen
To truths translated, and for true things deem'd.
And the following are powerfully and painfully expressive:—
How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame,
Which, like the canker in a fragrant rose,
Doth spot the beauty of thy budding name!
Oh, in what sweets dost thou thy sins enclose!
And what a mansion have those vices got,
Which for their habitation chose out thee,
Where Beauty's veil doth cover every blot,
And all things turn to fair that eyes can see!
"Who taught thee," he says in another sonnet,