This ignorant present, the future in all our nights and days to come
let every man be master of his time
give me your hand, shut the door
from this time, I will proceed no further
strange things things I have in head that will to hand
I shall sleep no more
I dare bear the knife myself, the handle toward my hand
while smiling in my face
But hush, no more,
I go, and it is done
proceeding to heaven, or to hell as I descended
As thou approach the chamber, you were afraid to think what I have done
your hand mark'd with blood
as thou tears shall drown the wind
both the worlds suffer those thoughts which should indeed have died
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