The cruel midnight, eating with icy tooth
The hearts of mortals?
Enter Ariald.
Ar. Margaret, I have come!
Marg. Yea, so have Winter, Misery, Despair and Death,
Your kindlier brothers. Hunger may be gaunt,
But he is honest. Death be terrible,
But he hath mercy on the pinchéd cheek
And cruel, tortured heart; but who art thou?