Sonnet 90
Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now;
loss
timing
love
grief
Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now;
Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross,
Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow,
And do not drop in for an after-loss:
Ah, do not, when my heart hath 'scoped this sorrow,
Come in the rearward of a conquer'd woe;
Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,
To linger out a purposed overthrow.
If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,
When other petty griefs have done their spite
But in the onset come; so shall I taste
At first the very worst of fortune's might,
And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
Compared with loss of thee will not seem so.
What It Means
If you're going to hate me, do it now, when other things are going wrong. Add your blow to the pile of misfortunes. Don't wait for a happy time and then bring the worst news — don't let the final blow come after the worst is supposedly over. Give me the worst all at once, so I can survive it together. A piecemeal loss is harder to bear.
Context
Part of the Fair Youth sequence, continuing a sequence about anticipated loss and rejection.
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