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Act I, Scene 145

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  • Shakespeare. Those lips that Love's own hand did make
    Breathed forth the sound that said 'I hate'
    To me that languish'd for her sake; 2020
    But when she saw my woeful state,
    Straight in her heart did mercy come,
    Chiding that tongue that ever sweet
    Was used in giving gentle doom,
    And taught it thus anew to greet: 2025
    'I hate' she alter'd with an end,
    That follow'd it as gentle day
    Doth follow night, who like a fiend
    From heaven to hell is flown away;
    'I hate' from hate away she threw, 2030
    And saved my life, saying 'not you.'

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