Those men that do without a cause bear hatred unto me, Than are the hairs upon my head in number more they be: They that would me destroy, and are mine en'mies wrongfully, Are mighty: so what I took not, to render forc'd was I.
But in my trouble they rejoic'd, gath'ring themselves together; Yea, abjects vile together did themselves against me gather: I knew it not; they did me tear, and quiet would not be.