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<p data-flag="normal" style="color:#333333;font-weight:normal;font-size:16px;line-height:30px;font-family:Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif;hyphens:auto;text-align:justify;"><span>SONNET 140<br>Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press<br>My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain;<br>Lest sorrow lend me words and words express<br>The manner of my pity-wanting pain.<br>If I might teach thee wit, better it were,<br>Though not to love, yet, love, to tell me so;<br>As testy sick men, when their deaths be near,<br>No news but health from their physicians know;<br>For if I should despair, I should grow mad,<br>And in my madness might speak ill of thee:<br>Now this ill-wresting world is grown so bad,<br>Mad slanderers by mad ears believed be,<br>That I may not be so, nor thou belied,<br>Bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart go wide.<br></span></p><p data-flag="normal" style="font-size:16px;line-height:30px;font-family:Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;color:#333333;font-weight:normal;text-al...