← Sonnet 89 All Sonnets Sonnet 91 →

Sonnet 90

The speaker begs the beloved to abandon him now, while sorrow is already unbearable, rather than inflict a secondary cruelty that prolongs the pain.

Original
Modern
1 Then hate me when thou wilt, if ever, now,
Then hate me when thou wilt, if ever, now
So go ahead and hate me whenever you choose; if you're going to, do it now,
2 Now while the world is bent my deeds to cross,
Now while the world is set against what I do,
3 join with the spite of fortune, make me bow,
Join with fate's cruelty and bring me down,
4 And do not drop in for an after-loss:
And don't come later as an additional blow:
Wordplay: “do not drop in for an after-loss”

'Drop in' suggests visiting casually; the beloved shouldn't wait and return later to add another wound. A second loss would be worse than the first.

5 Ah do not, when my heart hath ’scaped this sorrow,
Oh please, not when my heart has recovered from this pain,
6 Come in the rearward of a conquered woe,
Don't appear as a follow-up to grief I've already conquered,
7 Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,
Don't let one stormy night be followed by another rainy one,
Wordplay: “windy night / rainy morrow”

Meteorological continuation of emotional damage—piling natural disasters to suggest the accumulation of griefs.

8 To linger out a purposed overthrow.
To drag out this deliberate destruction.
Volta Shifts from describing the speaker's current losses to a plea: the beloved's departure becomes the desired coup de grâce that ends all suffering at once.
9 If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,
If you're going to leave me, don't be the last one to do it,
10 When other petty griefs have done their spite,
When smaller sorrows have finished hurting me,
11 But in the onset come, so shall I taste
But come right at the beginning, so I'll experience
12 At first the very worst of fortune’s might.
Right away the absolute worst that fate can deliver.
13 And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
And all those other forms of sadness, which now seem like real sadness,
14 Compared with loss of thee, will not seem so.
Compared with losing you, will barely seem like anything.
Mercy Through Cruelty

Sonnet 90 reframes abandonment as an act of mercy. The speaker is already drowning in misfortune; the beloved's departure would be kindest if delivered swiftly alongside other griefs, creating one catastrophic blow rather than prolonged agony. The speaker begs for immediate execution: strike him now while he's already broken, not later when he's healed. The beloved becomes an instrument of mercy, and departure an act of compassion. Cruelty and kindness collapse into each other.

The Hierarchy of Suffering

The couplet contains a dark paradox: only the beloved's loss is truly unbearable; all other sorrows are trivial by comparison. This establishes the beloved as the sole source of real pain. The speaker achieves a kind of stoic peace—if the beloved leaves, it doesn't matter what other griefs follow, because none of them matter. The beloved's departure is both the worst possible and the only thing worth mourning absolutely.

If this happened today

You're already drowning in failures and rejection from others. You ask your partner not to wait until you've finally recovered and regrouped—leave now, while everything is already ruined, so you only have to break once instead of twice.

← Sonnet 89 All Sonnets Sonnet 91 →