They Have A Plentiful Lack Of Wit.

And Therefore Is Love Said To Be A Child, Because In Choice He Is So Oft Beguil'd

To Be In Love, Where Scorn Is Bought With Groans; Coy Looks, With Heart-sore Sighs; One Fading Moment's Mirth

Is This A Vision? Is This A Dream? Do I Sleep?

A Heavier Task Could Not Have Been Impos'd, Than I To Speak My Griefs Unspeakable.

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!