Sonnet 96

Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness;

Some say thy grace is youth and gentle sport.

Both grace and faults are loved of more and less;

Thou mak’st faults graces that to thee resort.

As on the finger of a thronèd queen

The basest jewel will be well esteem’d,

So are those errors that in thee are seen

To truths translated and for true things deem’d.

How many lambs might the stern wolf betray,

If like a lamb he could his looks translate?

How many gazers mightst thou lead away,

If thou wouldst use the strength of all thy state?

But do not so; I love thee in such sort

As thou being mine, mine is thy good report.

Some say it’s your age.

Some, that you’re a fiend.

Either way, they would engage,

Not try to put an end.

What’s tawdry—on a princess

Will nevertheless find esteem.

Nightmares make great fantasies.

Even victims dream.

When the wolf looks like the lamb,

Vast becomes her prey.

Others become dumb,

Taken naturally.

But don’t take them. Love me instead.

Then we’ll both be good.