'Tis better to be vile than vile esteem'd...
Sonnet 121'Tis better to be vile than vile esteem'd,
When not to be receives reproach of being, And the just pleasure lost which is so deem'd Not by our feeling but by others' seeing: For why should others false adulterate eyes Give salutation to my sportive blood? Or on my frailties why are frailer spies, Which in their wills count bad what I think good? No, I am that I am, and they that level At my abuses reckon up their own: I may be straight, though they themselves be bevel; By their rank thoughts my deeds must not be shown; Unless this general evil they maintain, All men are bad, and in their badness reign. |
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It’s even worse for people to just think you’re being bad than to actually behave badly, because even if you haven’t done anything wrong you get blamed for it without ever enjoying the naughtiness in the first place. Other people cheat as much as I do, so why
should they be allowed to comment on my misbehaviour? Why should those who are every bit as prone to temptation as I am criticise my actions? In any case, what they think reprehensible, I think is perfectly acceptable.
I am who I am, and those who tell me off are just showing their own faults: I’m normal, it’s the rest of the world that’s mad! They’re tainting my actions with their own scurrilous thoughts. Unless, that is, you reckon that everyone is simply evil, and thrives on it.