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If I, thy conquest, perish by thy hate, |
Then, lest my being nothing lessen thee, |
If thou hate me, take heed of hating me. |
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Yet, love and hate me too, |
So, these exteames shall ne'r their office doe; |
Love me, that I may dye the gentler way; |
Hate me, because thy love is too great for me; |
Or let these two, themselves, not me decay; |
So shall I live thy Stage, not triumph be; |
Then lest thou thy love hate, and mee thou undoe |
O let me live, yet love and hate me too. |
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The Expiration. |
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So, so, breake off this last lamenting kisse, |
Which sucks two soules, and vapors Both away, |
Turne thou ghost that way, and let me turne this, |
And let our selves benight our happiest day, |
Wee aske none leave to love; nor will we owe |
Any, so cheape a death, as saying, Goe; |
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Goe; and if that word have not quite kill'd thee, |
Ease me with death, by bidding me goe too. |
Or, if it have, let my word worke on mee, |
And a just office on a murderer doe. |
Except it be too late, to kill me so, |
Being double dead, going, and bidding, goe.
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[CW: The] |