A Woman Would Run Through Fire And

For This, Be Sure, Tonight Thou Shalt Have Cramps, Side-stitches That Shall Pen Thy Breath Up. Urchins Shall Forth At Vast Of Night That They May Work All Exercise On Thee. Thou Shalt Be Pinched As Thick As Honeycomb, Each Pinch More Stinging Than Bees That Made 'em.

If One Good Deed In All My Life I Did, I Do Repent It From My Very Soul.

But Now I Am Cabined, Cribbed, Confined, Bound In To Saucy Doubts And Fears.

For 'tis The Sport To Have The Engineer Hoist With His Own Petar; And't Shall Go Hard But I Will Delve One Yard Below Their Mines And Blow Them At The Moon.

Thus Have I, Wall, My Part Discharged So; And, Being Done, Thus Wall Away Doth Go.