| O! CALL not me to justify the wrong | |
| That thy unkindness lays upon my heart; | |
| Wound me not with thine eye, but with thy tongue: | |
| Use power with power, and slay me not by art. | |
| Tell me thou lovest elsewhere; but in my sight, | 5 |
| Dear heart, forbear to glance thine eye aside: | |
| What need’st thou wound with cunning, when thy might | |
| Is more than my o’erpress’d defence can bide? | |
| Let me excuse thee: ah! my love well knows | |
| Her pretty looks have been my enemies; | 10 |
| And therefore from my face she turns my foes, | |
| That they elsewhere might dart their injuries: | |
| Yet do not so; but since I am near slain, | |
| Kill me outright with looks, and rid my pain. |