Ay, but to die, and go we know not where;
To lie in cold obstruction and to rot;
This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice;
To be imprison'd in the viewless winds,
And blown with restless violence round about The pendant world.

Measure for Measure (1604), III, i, 116