1

‘Tis better to be vile than vile esteem’d

2

When not to be receives reproach of being;

3

And the just pleasure lost, which is so deem’d

4

Not by our feeling, but by others’ seeing:

5

For why should others’ false adulterate eyes

6

Give salutation to my sportive blood?

7

Or on my frailties why are frailer spies,

8

Which in their wills count bad what I think good?

9

No, I am that I am, and they that level

10

At my abuses reckon up their own:

11

I may be straight though they themselves be bevel;

12

By their rank thoughts my deeds must not be shown;

13

Unless this general evil they maintain,

14

All men are bad and in their badness reign.