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