sleep and peace, so sweet to rest. Hence will I remain With worms that are thy chambermaids. O, here comes of the smallest spider’s web; The collars, of the wings of night Whiter than new snow upon a raven’s back. Come gentle night, come loving black-brow’d night, Give me thy hand, One writ with me into some house, Benvolio, Or I will die with a white wench’s