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Act I, Scene 120

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  • Shakespeare. That you were once unkind befriends me now,
    And for that sorrow which I then did feel
    Needs must I under my transgression bow, 1670
    Unless my nerves were brass or hammer'd steel.
    For if you were by my unkindness shaken
    As I by yours, you've pass'd a hell of time,
    And I, a tyrant, have no leisure taken
    To weigh how once I suffered in your crime. 1675
    O, that our night of woe might have remember'd
    My deepest sense, how hard true sorrow hits,
    And soon to you, as you to me, then tender'd
    The humble slave which wounded bosoms fits!
    But that your trespass now becomes a fee; 1680
    Mine ransoms yours, and yours must ransom me.

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