Nothing will come of nothing: speak again.
For by the sacred radiance of the sun,
The mysteries of Hecate, and the night,
By all the operation of the orbs,
From we do exist and cease to be;
Here I disclaim all my paternal care,
Propinquity, and property of blood,
And as a stranger to my heart and me
Hold thee, from this for ever.
Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend,
The terrors of the earth.
Strives in his little world of man to out-scorn
The to-and-fro conflicting wind and rain
I am a man
More sinn’d against than sinning
When the mind’s free
The body’s delicate: the tempest in my mind
O, that way madness lies
Be-monster not thy features.
O thou side-piercing sight!
O ruined piece of nature! This great world
shall so wear out to naught.
No, no, no, no! Come, let’s away to prison:
WE two alone will sing like birds i’ the cage:
When thou dost ask me blessing I’ll kneel down
And ask of thee forgiveness: so we’ll live,
And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh
At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues
Talk of court news; and we’ll talk with them too, —
Who loses and who wins; who’s in, who’s out;—
And take upon’s the mystery of things
As if we were God’s spies: and we’ll wear out
In a wall’d prison of God’s packs and sects of great ones
That ebb and flow by the moon.
The weight of this sad time we must obey;
Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.
The oldest hath borne most: we that are young
Shall never see so much nor live so long.