I Am A Kind Of Burr; I

As A Walled Town Is More Worthier Than A Village, So Is The Forehead Of A Married Man More Honorable Than The Bare Brow Of A Bachelor.

Speak The Speech, I Pray You, As I Pronounce It To You, Trippingly On The Tongue; But If You Mouth It, As Many Of Your Players Do, I Had As Lief The Town-crier Spoke My Lines.

Set We Forward; Let A Roman And A British Ensign Wave Friendly Together. So Through Lud's Town March, And In The Temple Of The Great Jupiter Our Peace We'll Ratify, Seal It With Feasts. Set On There! Never Was A War Did Cease, Ere Bloody Hands Were Washed, With Such A Peace.

Two Households, Both Alike In Dignity In Fair Verona, Where We Lay Our Scene From Ancient Grudge Break To New Mutiny Where Civil Blood Makes Civil Hands Unclean. From Forth The Fatal Loins Of These Two Foes A Pair Of Star-cross'd Lovers Take Their Life Whose Misadventured Piteous Overthrows Do With Their Death Bury Their Parents' Strife.

Yet Do I Fear Thy Nature; It Is Too Full O' The Milk Of Human Kindness To Catch The Nearest Way: Thou Wouldst Be Great; Art Not Without Ambition, But Without The Illness Should Attend It: What Thou Wouldst Highly, That Wouldst Thou Holily; Wouldst Not Play False, And Yet Wouldst Wrongly Win.