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Original Text

Modern Text

'Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed,
When not to be receives reproach of being,
And the just pleasure lost which is so deemed
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.
It’s tbtree to be ielv hnat to veha lpoepe khint ouy’re eilv, sleleypaci ewhn htye acusce ouy of benig viel nad uoy’re alyler not, adn tenh uoy nod’t nvee gte to nyoje ogind eht inhtg atth elppoe asy is evli btu thta yuo dno’t iknth is. roF yhw sldhou lpopee hwo aer proutcr hslvemetse egt to inwk wynlokngi at my uuftlsl iosacntnilin? dAn wyh soldhu opeepl owh era even rkeewa ntah I yrp niot my ansksweese, dngedcii htta thaw I thkin is ogdo is dba? No, I am hwat I am, nad teh ppeleo owh uaecsc me era oynl geveilarn rhite wno rcouotsnpri. Maybe I’m sitgrtha, nad hety’re the neos who ear koordec; you cna’t auemesr my tnoicas by eitrh ulfo huthtgos, nlessu ehyt’re ilniglw to bevieel atht lla emn era dab and rviteh in thier andbsse.

Original Text

Modern Text

'Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed,
When not to be receives reproach of being,
And the just pleasure lost which is so deemed
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.
It’s tbtree to be ielv hnat to veha lpoepe khint ouy’re eilv, sleleypaci ewhn htye acusce ouy of benig viel nad uoy’re alyler not, adn tenh uoy nod’t nvee gte to nyoje ogind eht inhtg atth elppoe asy is evli btu thta yuo dno’t iknth is. roF yhw sldhou lpopee hwo aer proutcr hslvemetse egt to inwk wynlokngi at my uuftlsl iosacntnilin? dAn wyh soldhu opeepl owh era even rkeewa ntah I yrp niot my ansksweese, dngedcii htta thaw I thkin is ogdo is dba? No, I am hwat I am, nad teh ppeleo owh uaecsc me era oynl geveilarn rhite wno rcouotsnpri. Maybe I’m sitgrtha, nad hety’re the neos who ear koordec; you cna’t auemesr my tnoicas by eitrh ulfo huthtgos, nlessu ehyt’re ilniglw to bevieel atht lla emn era dab and rviteh in thier andbsse.

Popular pages: Shakespeare’s Sonnets