Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press br My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain; br Lest sorrow lend me words and words express br The manner of my pity-wanting pain. br If I might teach thee wit, better it were, br Though not to love, yet, love, to tell me so; br As testy sick men, when their deaths be near, br No news but health from their physicians know; br For if I should despair, I should grow mad, br And in my madness might speak ill of thee: br Now this ill-wresting world is grown so bad, br Mad slanderers by mad ears believed be, br That I may not be so, nor thou belied, br Bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart go wide.