Than it would pierce a peasant's. Have a care!
The eagle that would seize the poor man's lamb
Must dread the poor man's vengeance; darts there are
Can reach you in your eyrie,—ay, and hands
That will not grieve to hurl them. Get thee gone!"
Left alone with himself, he soliloquizes,—
"And yet I slew him not! But—but—'twill come!
It heaps my shame to heighten my revenge;
And I will feast it fully. Would 'twere here,
Here now! Oh, my arm aches, and every pulse