130
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red, than her lips red:
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound:
I grant I never saw a goddess go,
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet by heaven, I think my love as rare,
As any she belied with false compare

131
Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art,
As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel;
For well thou know'st to my dear doting heart
Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel.
Yet, in good faith, some say that thee behold,
Thy face hath not the power to make love groan;
To say they err I dare not be so bold,
Although I swear it to myself alone.
And to be sure that is not false I swear,
A thousand groans, but thinking on thy face,
One on another's neck, do witness bear
Thy black is fairest in my judgment's place.
In nothing art thou black save in thy deeds,
And thence this slander, as I think, proceeds.

133
Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan
For that deep wound it gives my friend and me!
Is't not enough to torture me alone,
But slave to slavery my sweet'st friend must be?
Me from myself thy cruel eye hath taken,
And my next self thou harder hast engrossed:
Of him, myself, and thee I am forsaken;
A torment thrice three-fold thus to be crossed.
Prison my heart in thy steel bosom's ward,
But then my friend's heart let my poor heart bail;
Whoe'er keeps me, let my heart be his guard;
Thou canst not then use rigour in my jail:
And yet thou wilt; for I, being pent in thee,
Perforce am thine, and all that is in me.

I feel that when the Shakespearean “scholars” claimed Shakespeare was building up his persona for the reader they were wrong, I doubt anything even near that thought crossed Shakespeares mind as he scribbled these sonnets down with his quill. What I can tell about who Shakespeare was as a person by the three sonnets assigned are a great number of things. I can tell from sonnet 130 that Shakespeare seems to be at odds with himself and his love for the dark lady, “And yet by heaven, I think my love as rare, As any she belied with false compare” essentially means that Shakespeare’s love for this “dark lady” is rare but belied, a word at the time for lies. Another thing I noticed is that Shakespeare may be reconsidering his relationship with the “dark lady” because he seems to think her outward appearance is not attractive to him; maybe leading Shakespeare to think he can do better. “I have seen roses damasked, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is there more delight Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.” The roses may be a symbol for other women. Sonnet 131 continues to describe “the dark lady” as physically unappealing yet also delves into her (what some might call) positive side. “Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art, As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel; For well thou know'st to my dear doting heart Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel.” Expresses Shakespeare’s thought on his relationship, claiming that she knows all to well how much he loves her and that she uses it to her advantage. In sonnet 133 it seems that Shakespeare has discovered the youth or another one of his good friends in bed with “the dark lady,” “For that deep wound it gives my friend and me! Is't not enough to torture me alone” Sonnet 133 continues on with Shakespeare begging for the dark lady to release this other person from her feminine wiles “But slave to slavery my sweet'st friend must be?” Shakespeare decides that he will do all he can to protect the youth from heartbreak “Whoe'er keeps me, let my heart be his guard; Thou canst not then use rigour in my jail: And yet thou wilt; for I, being pent in thee, Perforce am thine, and all that is in me.”