Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press
My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain;
Lest sorrow lend me words and words express
The manner of my pity-wanting pain.
If I might teach thee wit, better it were,
Though not to love, yet, love, to tell me so;
As testy¹ sick men, when their deaths be near,
No news but health from their physicians know;
For if I should despair, I should grow mad,
And in my madness might speak ill of thee:
Now this ill-wresting world is grown so bad,
Mad slanderers by mad ears believed be,
  That I may not be so, nor thou belied,
  Bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart go wide.

你狠心，也该放聪明；别让侮蔑
把我不作声的忍耐逼得太甚；
免得悲哀赐我喉舌，让你领略
我的可怜的痛苦会怎样发狠。
你若学了乖，爱呵，就觉得理应
对我说你爱我，纵使你不如此；
好像暴躁的病人，当死期已近，
只愿听医生报告健康的消息；
因为我若是绝望，我就会发疯，
疯狂中难保不把你胡乱咒骂：
这乖张世界是那么不成体统，
疯狂的耳总爱听疯子的坏话。
　　要我不发疯，而你不遭受诽谤，
　　你得把眼睛正视，尽管心放荡。