Can you, oh cruel woman, say that I don't love you when I take your side against myself? Don't I think about you and forget about myself, you tyrant? Who dislikes you that I would call my friend? Who do you dislike who I like? Yes, if you scowl at me don't I take immediate revenge on myself by moaning in pain? What quality do I see in myself that would make me too proud to serve you when the best in me worships your defects, commanded as I am by the merest flickering of your eyes? But carry on hating me, my love, because I know your mind now. You love those who can see, and I am blind!