That draw the line of life and death by right?
Com furies all, and make an ende of mee,
For from the world, my sprite would take his flight.
Why comes not nowe fowle Gorgon full in sight,
And Typhon’s head, that deepe in hell remaynes,
For to torment the silly soules in paynes?
It better were for mee to feele your force,
Than this missehap of murdring enuy’es rage,
By curssed meanes and fall vpon my corse,
And worke my ruine amid my flouring age: