[♦] A shadow like an angel, with bright hair
[♦] Dabbled in blood; and he squeak’d out aloud,
55 ‘Clarence is come; false, fleeting, perjured Clarence,
[♦] That stabb’d me in the field by Tewksbury:
[♦] Seize on him, Furies, take him to your torments!’
[♦] With that, methoughts, a legion of foul fiends
[♦] Environ’d me about, and howled in mine ears
60 Such hideous cries that with the very noise
I trembling waked, and for a season after
Could not believe but that I was in hell,