Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown;
The live-long night, since e’er I laid me down,
Such horrid sounds—such vile, unearthly yells
Have echoed hence, as ’twere from deepest hells;
That slumber, filled with horror at it, fled,
And left me to my loneliness—in bed.
From hence, it came.
(Looks around—sees Suitors—starts.)
Good gracious! Oh! it’s you?
Suitors (very meekly).—