Quote by William Shakespeare
As an unperfect actor upon the stageWho with much fear is put besides his partOr some fierce thing, replete with too much rageWhose strengths abundance weakens his own heartSo I, for fear of trust, forget to sayThe perfect ceremony of love's riteAnd in mine own love's strength seem to decayO'ercharged with burthen of my own love's mighto, let my books be then the eloquenceAnd dumb presagers of my speaking breastWho plead for love, and look for recompenseMore than that tongue that more hath express'd.O, learn to read what silent love hath writTo hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit.
Summary
The speaker compares themselves to an actor who is unprepared and filled with fear, or to someone who harbors too much anger to the point of weakening their own heart. They express fear of trusting, which causes them to forget how to perform the perfect gestures of love and, in turn, diminishes their own strength. To compensate, the speaker relies on their books as their eloquent voice and silent signals of their innermost feelings. They argue that their books advocate for love more passionately and seek greater recompense than their own spoken words. The reader is encouraged to learn to decipher the words of silent and hidden love, as true understanding of love requires a perceptive eye.
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