Weariness can snore upon the flint when resting sloth finds the down pillow hard.
I would challenge you to a battle of wits, but I see you are unarmed!
Who knows himself a braggart, Let him fear this; for it will come to pass That every braggart will be found an ass.
Oh, I have passed a miserable night, so full of ugly sights, of ghastly dreams!
Rumour doth double, like the voice and echo, The numbers of the feared.
And, if you love me, as I think you do, let's kiss and part, for we have much to do