Sonnet 58
That god forbid that made me first your slave,
servitude
patience
freedom
love
That god forbid that made me first your slave,
I should in thought control your times of pleasure,
Or at your hand the account of hours to crave,
Being your vassal, bound to stay your leisure!
O, let me suffer, being at your beck,
The imprison'd absence of your liberty;
And patience, tame to sufferance, bide each cheque,
Without accusing you of injury.
Be where you list, your charter is so strong
That you yourself may privilege your time
To what you will; to you it doth belong
Yourself to pardon of self-doing crime.
I am to wait, though waiting so be hell;
Not blame your pleasure, be it ill or well.
What It Means
The same theme as Sonnet 57 — Shakespeare is enslaved by love and must wait, unquestioning, for whatever time the young man can give him. He will suffer this patience even if the young man's liberty includes things Shakespeare might reasonably call a wrong. Whatever you do with your freedom, I won't question it. The dignity of suffering in silence is all he's left.
Context
Part of the Fair Youth sequence, companion to Sonnet 57.
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