# Newsletters > Shakespeare's Sonnet-a-Day >  Sonnet #140

## Admin

Sonnet #140

CXL.br /br /Be wise as thou art cruel; do not pressbr /My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain;br /Lest sorrow lend me words and words expressbr /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.

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