O, Reason Not The Need!

Self-love Is The Most Inhibited Sin In The Canon.

Will Fortune Never Come With Both Hands Full, But Write Her Fair Words Still In Foulest Terms?

Truly Thou Art Damned, Like An Ill-roasted Egg, All On One Side.

Myself--a Prince By Fortune Of My Birth, Near To The King In Blood, And Near In Love Till You Did Make Him Misinterpret Me-- Have Stooped My Neck Under Your Injuries And Sighed My English Breath In Foreign Clouds, Eating The Bitter Bread Of Banishment, Whilst You Have Fed Upon My Signories, Disparked My Parks And Felled My Forest Woods, From My Own Windows Torn My Household Coat, Rased Out My Imprese, Leaving Me No Sign, Save Men's Opinions And My Living Blood, To Show The World I Am A Gentleman.

Go, Bid The Soldiers Shoot.