What greater sorrow have you gazed upon
Than down this narrow chink you witness still;
And which, did you yourselves not fore-devise,
You register’d for others to fulfil!
Fife. This is some Laureate at a birth-day ode;
No wonder we went rhyming.
Ros. Hush! And now
See, starting to his feet, he strides about
Far as his tether’d steps—
Seg. And if the chain