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 lovst elsewhere; but in my sight,
Dear heart, forbear to glance thine eye aside:
What needst thou wound with cunning, when thy might
Is more than my oerpressd defence can bide?
Let me excuse thee: ah! my love well knows
Her 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.
The Sonnets CXXXIX - O! call not me to justify the wrong
William Shakespeare
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