letra de sonnet 140 - the marlowe society
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be wise as thou art cruel; do not press
my tongue-tied patience with too much disdain;
lest sorrow lend me words, and words express
the manner of my pity-wanting pain
if i might teach thee wit, better it were
though not to love, yet, love, to tell me so;
as testy sick men, when their deaths be near
no news but health from their physicians know;
for, if i should despair, i should grow mad
and in my madness might speak ill of thee:
now this ill-wresting world is grown so bad
mad slanderers by mad ears bеlieved be
that i may not bе so, nor thou belied
bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart go wide
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