-
...sweet as my revenge.
-
Ye gods, I prate,
-
and the most noble mother of the world leave unsaluted.
-
Sink, my knee, in the earth.
-
Stand up, blest.
-
Whilst with no softer cushion than the flint
-
I kneel before thee.
-
What's this?
-
Your knees to me?
-
To your corrected son?
-
Thou art my warrior. I helped to frame thee.
-
This is a poor epitome of yours,