1 Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan
2 For that deep wound it gives my friend and me;
3 Is't not enough to torture me alone,
4 But slave to slavery my sweet'st friend must be?
5 Me from myself thy cruel eye hath taken,
6 And my next self thou harder hast engross'd:
7 Of him, myself, and thee, I am forsaken,
8 A torment thrice threefold thus to be crossed.
9 Prison my heart in thy steel bosom's ward,
10 But then my friend's heart let my poor heart bail;
11 Whoe'er keeps me, let my heart be his guard;
12 Thou canst not then use rigor in my gaol:
13 And yet thou wilt; for I, being pent in thee,
14 Perforce am thine, and all that is in me.
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