With so thick darkness have I drenched the air,
Lest when he wake, the sight and sweet desire
Of home supplant his cunning, and he rise
Forthwith, and entering suddenly his house
Fall by the treachery of the infatuate lords,
Who prey there on his substance unrestrained,
Sitting in idle suit to woo his wife,
Who weeps his fate unknown; and thus my will
At last were crossed. So hither am I come
Myself to break the sleep I sent, and warn him