The Complete Works of William Shakespeare

Hence, thou suborned informer, a true soul When most impeached, stands least in thy control. Then soul live thou upon thy servant’s loss, And let that pine to aggravate thy store; Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross; Within be fed, without be rich no more, So shall thou feed on death, that feeds on men, And death once dead, there’s no more dying then. Now ’tis awake, Takes note of what is done, and, like a prophet, Looks in a glass that shows what future evils, Either now, or by remissness new conceived, And so in progress to be hatched and born, Are now to have no successive degrees, But, where they live, to end. At last she thus begins: “Thou worthy lord Of that unworthy wife that greeteth thee, Health to thy person!