Sin, that amends, is but patched with virtue.
To be furious, is to be frighted out of fear.
These blessed candles of the night.
There are no tricks in plain and simple faith.
O God of battles! steel my soldiers’ hearts. Possess them not with fear.
For this, be sure, tonight thou shalt have cramps, Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up. Urchins Shall forth at vast of night that they may work All exercise on thee. Thou shalt be pinched As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging Than bees that made 'em.