The Seeming Truth Which Cunning Times Put

For Trust Not Him That Hath Once Broken Faith

My Conscience Hath A Thousand Several Tongues, And Every Tongue Brings In A Several Tale, And Every Tale Condemns Me For A Villain. Perjury, Perjury, In The High'st Degree; Murder, Stern Murder In The Dir'st Degree, Throng To The Bar, Crying All, 'guilty!, Guilty!

As There Comes Light From Heaven And Words From Breath, As There Is Sense In Truth And Truth In Virtue

Oh, I Am Fortune's Fool!

If You Be King, Why Should Not I Succeed?