| 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, | 5 |
| And my next self thou harder hast engross’d: | |
| Of him, myself, and thee, I am forsaken; | |
| A torment thrice threefold thus to be cross’d. | |
| Prison my heart in thy steel bosom’s ward, | |
| But then my friend’s heart let my poor heart bail; | 10 |
| 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. |