Shakespeare’s speaker declares that his love is not some fragile thing born of worldly advantage, liable to be abandoned when fortune shifts. It wasn’t built on circumstance, so it doesn’t bask in smiling pomp or crumble under discontent. It has no fear of political heresy that works on short-lived leases. Instead, this love stands alone, hugely politic in a higher sense: it won’t grow with the heat of flattery or drown in showers of misfortune. The couplet is a wry turn: he calls as witnesses the fools of time, who lived for crime yet die for goodness—suggesting they, in their contradictions, prove the steadiness of a love that transcends such fickle standards. The mood is bold, assured, and quietly triumphant, as if love has been freed from the tyranny of accident.
Sonnet 124: If my dear love were but the child of state — Summary
If my dear love were but the child of state, It might for Fortune's bastard be unfather'd, As subject to Time's love or to Time's hate, Weeds among weeds, or flowers with flowers gather'd. No, it was builded far from accident; It suffers not in smiling pomp, nor falls Under the blow of thralled discontent, Whereto th' inviting time our fashion calls: It fears not policy, that heretic, Which works on leases of short-number'd hours, But all alone stands hugely politic, That it nor grows with heat, nor drowns with showers. To this I witness call the fools of time, Which die for goodness, who have lived for crime.