“brass or hammered steel.
For if you were by my unkindness shaken，
As I by yours, you've passed a hell of time；
And I, a tyrant, have no leisure taken
To weigh how once I suffered in your crime.
O, that our night of woe might have remembered
My deepest sense, how hard true sorrow hits，
And soon to you, as you to me, then tendered
The humble salve which wounded bosoms fits！
But that your trespass now becomes a fee；
Mine ransoms yours, and yours must ransom me.”
Excerpt From: 莎士比亚. “莎士比亚十四行诗（中英对照）.” iBooks.
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