O sleep! O gentle sleep! Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down And steep my senses in forgetfulness? Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber, Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great, Under the canopies of costly state, And lull'd with sound of sweetest melody?

O Lord that lends me life, Lend me a heart replete with thankfulness!

If it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge.

Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears Had left the flushing of her gallèd eyes, She married. O, most wicked speed, to post With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!

Oh, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!

God's will! my liege, would you and I alone, Without more help, could fight this royal battle!

But thought's the slave of life, and life time's fool.