Sonnet CXXXIII
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Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan | 1
For that deep wound it gives my friend and me! | 2
Is't not enough to torture me alone, | 3
But slave to slavery my sweet'st friend must be? | 4
Me from myself thy cruel eye hath taken, | 5
And my next self thou harder hast engross'd: | 6
Of him, myself, and thee, I am forsaken; | 7
A torment thrice threefold thus to be cross'd. | 8
Prison my heart in thy steel bosom's ward, | 9
But then my friend's heart let my poor heart bail; | 10
Whoe'er keeps me, let my heart be his guard; | 11
Thou canst not then use rigor in my gaol: | 12
And yet thou wilt; for I, being pent in thee, | 13
Perforce am thine, and all that is in me. | 14
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