Take heed, dear heart, of this large privilege; The hardest knife ill-used doth lose his edge.
They told me I was everything. 'Tis a lie, I am not ague-proof.
For death remembered should be like a mirror, Who tells us life’s but breath, to trust it error.
Preferred three hours quicker over one moment late.
Gnawing with my teeth my bonds in sunder, I gain'd my freedom.
Death rock me asleep.