Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful.
By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes.
O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me!
Small to greater matters must give way.
This music crept by me upon the waters, Allaying both their fury and my passion With its sweet air: thence I have follow’d it.
Rebellion in this land shall lose his sway, meeting the check of such another day.