[♦] If heaven have any grievous plague in store
Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee,
O, let them keep it till thy sins be ripe,
220 And then hurl down their indignation
[♦] On thee, the troubler of the poor world’s peace!
The worm of conscience still begnaw thy soul!
Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou livest,
[♦] And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends!
[225] No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine,
[♦] Unless it be whilst some tormenting dream