That carries no impression like the dam.
[♦] And am I then a man to be beloved?
O monstrous fault, to harbour such a thought!
165 Then, since this earth affords no joy to me,
But to command, to check, to o’erbear such
As are of better person than myself,
[♦] I’ll make my heaven to dream upon the crown,
[♦] And, whiles I live, to account this world but hell,
[170] Until my mis-shaped trunk that bears this head
Be round impaled with a glorious crown.