That I was mad, and barbarous all men cried:
She nothing said; pale fear her tongue had tied.20
But secretly her looks with checks did trounce me,
Her tears, she silent, guilty did pronounce me.
Would of mine arms my shoulders had been scanted:
Better I could part of myself have wanted.
To mine own self have I had strength so furious,
And to myself could I be so injurious?
Slaughter and mischiefs instruments, no better,
Deservèd chains these cursed hands shall fetter.