Sonnet CXXXIX

O, call not me to justify the wrong	1
That thy unkindness lays upon my heart;	2
Wound me not with thine eye but with thy tongue;	3
Use power with power and slay me not by art.	4
Tell me thou lovest elsewhere, but in my sight,	5
Dear heart, forbear to glance thine eye aside:	6
What need'st thou wound with cunning when thy might	7
Is more than my o'er-press'd defense can bide?	8
Let me excuse thee: ah! my love well knows	9
Her pretty looks have been mine enemies,	10
And therefore from my face she turns my foes,	11
That they elsewhere might dart their injuries:	12
Yet do not so; but since I am near slain,	13
Kill me outright with looks and rid my pain.	14