No me pidas que justifique el daño
Que infligen tus perfidias a mi alma;
Hiérame tu lengua, no tus ojos,
A la fuerza recurre, no a tus artes.
Di que amas a otro, más aparta
los ojos cuando estés en mi presencia;
No es preciso herirme con astucias
Si basta tu poder para aplastarme.
Así te excusaré: mi amada sabe
Que sus bellas miradas son hostiles
Y desvía de mí a mis enemigos
Para ponerme a salvo del estrago;
Mas no lo hagas; ya que estoy muriendo
Que tus ojos acorten mi agonía.

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