a mat of weeds

On you it rests, whether I quit for ever the neighbourhood of man, and lead a harmless life, or become the scourge of your fellow-creatures, and the author of your own speedy ruin.

"Y'all have about ma'amed me to death. But you can call me Lucy from here on out. Got it?” “Yes, ma'am—I mean, Lucy,”

[T]he glaiue which he did wield / He gan forthwith t'auale, and way vnto me yield.