Classic Poem

SO ! I've got rid of these two creeping things,
That fain would have scratched up my buried gold.
They're gone; and may the curse of God go with them!
May they reach home just in good time enough
To break their legs at the first step in doors,
And necks i' the second! — And now then, as to you,
Good audience, — groundlings, — folks who love low places,
You too perhaps would fain get something of me,
Ere I take leave. — Well; — angered though I be,
Scornful and torn with rage at being ground
Into the dust with wrong. I'm not so lost
To all concern and charity for others
As not to be still kind enough to part
With something near to me — something that's wound
About my very self. Here, sirs; mark this; —
Let any that would put me to the test,
Take it with all my heart, and hang themselves.