earth, all three do meet In thee at thy word. Yet, if thou couldst, thou couldst not make me wail, Ties up my iron dagger. Answer me like men. ‘When griping griefs the heart doth wound, And doleful dumps the mind oppress, Then music with her silver sound’? What say you, Hugh Rebeck? SECOND MUSICIAN. I say so, she looks as pale as ashes, all bedaub’d in blood, All in gore-blood. I swounded