“My love is as a fever, longing still
For that which longer nurseth the disease…” (SON 147)
Tips for Use. When you are consumed with passion and cannot give her up. Or to express the strength of your attachment. In his massive ‘Anatomy of Melancholy’, Robert Burton, writing about the prognostics of love says, “What fires, torments, care, jealousies, suspicions, fears, griefs, anxieties, accompany such as are in love, I have sufficiently said (in 190 pages written in font #8, my note). The next question is, what will be the event of such miseries, what they foretell. Some are of opinion you that this love cannot be cured. Nullis amor est medicabilis herbis [love can be cured by no herbs], it accompanies them to the last. Idem amor exitio est pecori pecorisuq magistro [the same passion consumes both the sheep and the shepherd], and is so continuate, that by no persuasion almost it may be relieved. “Bid me not love – says Euryalus – bid the mountains come down into the planes, bid the rivers run back to their fountains; I can as soon leave to love, as the sum leave his course.”
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On Sonnet 147. While many Sonnets were dedicated to a man, Sonnet 147 is reputed to have been dedicated to the mysterious ‘Dark Lady’. However, the Dark Lady is so called not so much because of mystery but because she had black hair and dusky skin. Judging by the related flow of the Sonnets it seems that the relationship with the Dark Lady ended when she took up with the Fair Youth, to whom many sonnets are dedicated. At this point all sorts of conjectures are possible.
Image Source: http://www.broadwaypediatrics.com/fever.html