CXXXIXO! call not me to justify the wrongThat 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 lov’st elsewhere; but in my sight,Dear heart, forbear to glance thine eye aside:What need’st thou wound with cunning, when thy mightIs more than my o’erpress’d defence can bide?Let me excuse thee: ah! my love well knowsHer pretty looks have been mine enemies;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.
O! call not me to justify the wrongThat 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 lov’st elsewhere; but in my sight,Dear heart, forbear to glance thine eye aside:What need’st thou wound with cunning, when thy mightIs more than my o’erpress’d defence can bide?Let me excuse thee: ah! my love well knowsHer pretty looks have been mine enemies;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.