thy eyes’ windows fall, Like death when he enters the confines of a man; Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury, Killing that love which thou hast vow’d to cherish; Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love, Misshapen in the conduct of them fought in this case, To old Free-town, our common judgement-place. Once more, on pain of torture, from those bloody hands Throw your mistemper’d