I like the suppressed frustration in your performance. In mine I went more for a feeling of trying to convince myself that all is well. ru-vid.com/video/%D0%B2%D0%B8%D0%B4%D0%B5%D0%BE-VKR9Dq_KFKc.html
I only see 3 errors. Her eyes are lit up. Not complaining. But he distinctly says he is not interested with his 5 senses, so his eyes would not light up as what he is seeing does nothing for him. 2:) I'm pretty sure it is a man talking to a woman. It is common knowledge that women like words and men like sight. He is pointing out that in this case, he is not fitting into that standard method of finding beauty. It is normal for a woman not to dote on a man's appearance, so why should she need to tell us? 3:) If she is supposed to be the woman, she it too pretty, she is smoldering. Not at all the girl from the sonnet. Why can't people read this more matter-of-fact? Why do they need to add more emotion than it was probably meant to have. The meaning is in the words, not your way of saying them. If I said to you, "Your Father has died." Do I need to try to put meaning in my voice? No. Because the meaning is in the words, not the voice. Or if I said; "You look pretty today", would it help if I hammed it up and made my voice flowery? It would come across as insincere, like I wanted something for my effort. I want nothing for my effort other than the knowledge that you heard me, and if, by some chance, obtained pleasure from the thought the words provoked. It is not as if my voice, any less solemn, would grant any more meaning to the words. Solemn and simple; "I love you". As statement of fact, not pretense of beauty in emotion, but rather a direct notion. Admit it, you started reading that with a flowery voice in your head. Try to lean more toward Dragnet, though, not completely monotone. Basic. Normal. Maybe a little flat. If the words mean something, they will get them. If they do not, no amount of ham will fix it. Maybe this amount of spam will.
In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes, For they in thee a thousand errors note; But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise, Who in despite of view is pleased to dote; Nor are mine ears with thy tongue's tune delighted, Nor tender feeling, to base touches prone, Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited To any sensual feast with thee alone: But my five wits nor my five senses can Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee, Who leaves unsway'd the likeness of a man, Thy proud hearts slave and vassal wretch to be: Only my plague thus far I count my gain, That she that makes me sin awards me pain
