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.
William ShakespeareBlest are those Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled, That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please.
William Shakespeare