When I Waked, I Cried To Dream

Thou Slave, Thou Wretch, Thou Coward! Thou Little Valiant, Great In Villainy! Thou Ever Strong Upon The Stronger Side! Thou Fortune's Champion, That Dost Never Fight But Where Her Humorous Ladyship Is By To Teach Thee Safety.

What We Determine We Often Break. Purpose Is But The Slave To Memory.

For This, Be Sure, Tonight Thou Shalt Have Cramps, Side-stitches That Shall Pen Thy Breath Up. Urchins Shall Forth At Vast Of Night That They May Work All Exercise On Thee. Thou Shalt Be Pinched As Thick As Honeycomb, Each Pinch More Stinging Than Bees That Made 'em.

Memory, The Warder Of The Brain.

You Have But Mistook Me All The While... I Live By Bread Like You, Taste Grief, Feel Want, Need Friends. Conditioned Thus How Can You Call Me King?