Here can I sit alone, unseen of any, Thy broom groves, Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves. Haply, this life is best, If quiet life be best; sweeter to you, That have a sharper known; well corresponding REVENGE. Haste me to know it; that I, with wings as swift As meditation, or the thoughts of love, May sweep to my revenge. I find thee apt; And duller should'st thou be than the fat weed Had all his hairs been lives, my great revenge O, that the slave had forty thousand lives; My bloody thoughts, with violent pace, Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble love, Till that a capable and wide revenge Swallow them up. I am disgrac'd, impeach'd, and baffled here; Pierc'd to the soul with slander's venom'd spear; The which no balm can cure, but his heart's-blood Which breath'd this poison. How stand I then, That have a father kill'd, a mother stain'd, Go to their graves like beds; fight for a plot It is a quarrel most unnatural, To be reveng'd on him that loveth thee. Up, sword; and know thou a more horrid bent: Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven; As hell, whereto it goes. This too much lenity To hell, allegiance! vows, to the blackest devil! See, how my sword weeps for the poor king's death! From those that wish the downfall of our house! Down, down to hell; and say-I sent thee thither, I do suspect the lustful Moor Hath leap'd into my seat: the thought whereof Doth, like a poisonous mineral, gnaw my inwards; And nothing can or shall content my soul, Till I am even with him, wife for wife. As he does conceive He is dishonour'd by a man which ever Do you find Your patience so predominant in your nature, O, horrible! O, horrible! most horrible! And Cæsar's spirit, ranging for revenge, I'll have my bond; I will not hear thee speak: RUMOUR. Rumour is a pipe Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures; That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, Rumour doth double, like the voice and echo, I, from the orient to the drooping west, But this from rumour's tongue By holy Paul, they love his grace but lightly, I find the people strangely fantasy'd; Old men, and beldams, in the streets And when they talk of him, they shake their heads, And he, that speaks, doth gripe the hearer's wrist; Whilst he, that hears, makes fearful action, With wrinkled brows, with nods, with rolling eyes. S. SATIETY. They surfeited with honey; and began As surfeit is the father of much fast, Who riseth from a feast, With that keen appetite that he sits down? Where is the horse, that doth untread again His tedious measures with the unbated fire That he did pave them first? All things that are, Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd. That what we have we prize not to the worth, O, ten times faster Venus' pigeons fly, To seal love's bonds new made, than they are wont, To keep obliged faith unforfeited. SECRESY. 'Tis in my memory lock'd, And you yourself shall keep the key of it. |