Cordelia

Come, let's away to prison. 
We two alone will sing like birds i' th' cage. 
When thou dost ask me blessing, I'll kneel down 
And ask of thee forgiveness. So we'll live, 
And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh
At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues 
Talk of court news; and we'll talk with them too- 
Who loses and who wins; who's in, who's out- 
And take upon 's the mystery of things, 
As if we were God's spies; and we'll wear out, 
In a wall'd prison, packs and sects of great ones 
That ebb and flow by th' moon