1 Look, here comes a walking fire.
2 Truth's a dog must to kennel; he must be whipped out, when the Lady Brach may stand by the fire and stink.
3 Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears Do scald like molten lead.
4 Now a little fire in a wild field were like an old lecher's heart, a small spark, all the rest on's body cold.
5 Since I was man, Such sheets of fire, such bursts of horrid thunder, Such groans of roaring wind and rain I never Remember to have heard.
6 The sea, with such a storm as his bare head In hell-black night endur'd, would have buoy'd up, And quench'd the stelled fires; Yet, poor old heart, he holp the heavens to rain.
7 Go in with me: my duty cannot suffer T'obey in all your daughters' hard commands; Though their injunction be to bar my doors, And let this tyrannous night take hold upon you, Yet have I ventur'd to come seek you out, And bring you where both fire and food is ready.
8 Such smiling rogues as these, Like rats, oft bite the holy cords a-twain Which are too intrince t'unloose; smooth every passion That in the natures of their lords rebel; Bring oil to fire, snow to their colder moods; Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks With every gale and vary of their masters, Knowing naught, like dogs, but following.