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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,
And my next self thou harder hast engrossed;
Of him, myself, and thee I am forsaken,
A torment thrice threefold thus to be crossed.
Prison my heart in thy steel bosom’s ward,
But then my friend’s heart let my poor heart bail.
Whoe'er keeps me, let my heart be his guard;
Thou canst not then use rigor in my jail.
  And yet thou wilt, for I being pent in thee,
  Perforce am thine, and all that is in me.
Curse you for making me suffer by hurting both my friend and me. Isn’t it enough to torture me alone without making my friend your slave too? Because of your cruel attractions I’m no longer my own man, but my friend, who’s like my second self, you’ve enslaved even more cruelly. So I’ve been abandoned by him, by myself, and by you; being frustrated like this is a triple torment multiplied by three. Go ahead and keep me as your prisoner, but then let me use myself to bail out my friend. Whoever you assign to watch me while I’m in this jail, let me be in charge of guarding my friend—then you can’t torment me in my prison because I’ll have my friend to keep me happy. And yet you will torment me, because I belong to you, so everything that’s in me is yours, and since my friend is in my heart, he’s yours too.

Popular pages: Shakespeare’s Sonnets