And therefore, — since I cannot prove a lover, To entertain these fair well-spoken days, — I am determined to prove a villain, And hate the idle pleasures of these days.

I'll speak in a monstrous little voice.

The horn, the horn, the lusty horn Is not a thing to laugh to scorn.

O, here Will I set up my everlasting rest And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars From the world-wearied flesh

Your hearts are mighty, your skins are whole.

The world must be peopled!

Hell is empty and all the devils are here.