LXXXIX

    Say that thou didst forsake¹ me for some fault, And I will comment upon that offence： Speak of my lameness², and I straight will halt, Against thy reasons making no defence. Thou canst not love disgrace me half so ill, To set a form upon desired change, As I'll myself disgrace； knowing thy will, I will acquaintance strangle, and look strange； Be absent from thy walks； and in my tongue Thy sweet beloved name no more shall dwell, Lest I, too much profane³, should do it wrong, And haply of our old acquaintance tell. For thee, against my self I'll vow⁴ debate, For I must ne'er love him whom thou dost hate.