'O, what excuse can my invention make, (226)
When thou shalt charge me with so black a deed? (227)
Will not my tongue be mute, my frail joints shake, (228)
Mine eyes forego their light, my false heart bleed? (229)
The guilt being great, the fear doth still exceed;
And extreme fear can neither fight nor fly, (231)
But coward-like with trembling terror die.