With those distempered looks? what makes your sword
Drawn in your hand? who hath offended you?
I prithee, Jasper, sleep, thou'rt wild with watching.
Jasp. Come, make your way to Heav'n, and bid the world,
With all the villanies that stick upon it,
Farewell; you're for another life.
Luce. Oh, Jasper,
How have my tender years committed evil,
Especially against the man I love,
Thus to be cropt untimely?