LXXXVIII

    When thou shalt be dispos'd to set me light, And place my merit in the eye of scorn, Upon thy side, against myself I'll fight, And prove thee virtuous¹, though thou art forsworn. With mine own weakness, being best acquainted, Upon thy part I can set down a story Of faults conceal'd,  wherein I am attainted； That thou in losing me shalt win much glory： And I by this will be a gainer too； For bending all my loving thoughts on thee, The injuries that to myself I do, Doing thee vantage, double-vantage me. Such is my love, to thee I so belong, That for thy right, myself will bear all wrong.