Shakespeare’s speaker directly addresses a beloved young man who has been unfairly criticised. He argues that being blamed is not a defect in you — beautiful people have always been the target of slander. Beauty is naturally suspect, like a dark crow flying through a pure, bright sky. If you are genuinely good, the speaker continues, this slander only confirms your worth: vice always tries to eat the sweetest buds, and you are still in your unstained prime. You’ve survived the dangers of youth, either untouched or as a conqueror. Yet even your praise can’t lock down envy; it only grows. The speaker ends with a sigh: if some shadow of suspicion didn’t mask your appearance, you would alone command the hearts of all. The mood is protective and tender, but tinged with frustration — the speaker knows that the very qualities that make the beloved admirable also make him a permanent target for gossip.
Sonnet 70: That thou art blam'd shall not be thy defect — Summary
That thou art blam'd shall not be thy defect, For slander's mark was ever yet the fair; The ornament of beauty is suspect, A crow that flies in heaven's sweetest air. So thou be good, slander doth but approve Thy worth the greater being woo'd of time; For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love, And thou present'st a pure unstained prime. Thou hast passed by the ambush of young days Either not assail'd, or victor being charg'd; Yet this thy praise cannot be so thy praise, To tie up envy, evermore enlarg'd, If some suspect of ill mask'd not thy show, Then thou alone kingdoms of hearts shouldst owe.