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Act I, Scene 90

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  • Shakespeare. Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now;
    Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross,
    Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow,
    And do not drop in for an after-loss: 1250
    Ah, do not, when my heart hath 'scoped this sorrow,
    Come in the rearward of a conquer'd woe;
    Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,
    To linger out a purposed overthrow.
    If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last, 1255
    When other petty griefs have done their spite
    But in the onset come; so shall I taste
    At first the very worst of fortune's might,
    And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
    Compared with loss of thee will not seem so. 1260

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