Speak: will you write?
Tam. Sweet lord, enjoyne my sinne
Some other penance than what makes it worse:110
Hide in some gloomie dungeon my loth'd face,
And let condemned murtherers let me downe
(Stopping their noses) my abhorred food:
Hang me in chaines, and let me eat these armes
That have offended: binde me face to face115
To some dead woman, taken from the cart
Of execution?—till death and time