Heaven knows with what unwillingness and hate
I enter this damn'd place. But such extremes
Of wrongs in love fight 'gainst religious knowledge,
That were I led by this disease to deaths
As numberless as creatures that must die,
I could not shun the way. I know what 'tis
To pity madmen now; they're wretched things
That ever were created, if they be
Of woman's making and her faithless vows.
I fear they're now a-kissing. What's a'clock?
'Tis now but suppertime, but night will come,
And all new-married couples make short suppers.--
Whate'er thou art, I have no spare time to fear thee;
My horrors are so strong and great already
That thou seem'st nothing. Up and laze not;
Hadst thou my business, thou couldst ne'er sit so:
'Twould firk thee into air a thousand mile
Beyond thy ointments. I would I were read
So much in thy black power [as] mine own griefs.
I'm in great need of help: wilt give me any?
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