Sonnet 120

That you were once unkind befriends me now,And for that sorrow which I then did feelNeeds must I under my transgression bow,Unless my nerves were brass or hammer'd steel.For if you were by my unkindness shakenAs I by yours, you've pass'd a hell of time,And I, a tyrant, have no leisure takenTo weigh how once I suffered in your crime.O, that our night of woe might have remember'dMy deepest sense, how hard true sorrow hits,And soon to you, as you to me, then tender'dThe humble slave which wounded bosoms fits! But that your trespass now becomes a fee; Mine ransoms yours, and yours must ransom me.
My last on the subject, I swear it:we've traded blows, now I can't bear it.You wounded me greatly,I've repaid you lately;we're both hurt, it's time that we square it.