Spare me, great God! Lift up my drooping brow;
I am content to die; but, oh, not now.
I pray you, give me leave to go hence;
I am not well.
Dear master, I can go no further: O, I die for food! Here lie I down, and measure out my grave. Farewell, kind master.
How ill this taper burns! Ha! who comes here?
I think it is the weakness of my eyes
That shapes this monstrous apparition.
It comes upon me. Art thou any thing?