Crown

O polish'd perturbation! golden care! That keep'st the ports of slumber open wide, To many a watchful night: sleep with it now: But not so sound, and half so deeply sweet, As he whose brow, with homely biggen bound, Snores out the watch of night. O majesty! When thou dost pinch thy bearer, thou dost sit Like a rich armour, worn in heat of day, That scalds with safety.