Bid The Dishonest Man Mend

I Am One, My Liege, Whom The Vile Blows And Buffets Of The World Have So Incensed That I Am Reckless What I Do To Spite The World.

God's Will! My Liege, Would You And I Alone, Without More Help, Could Fight This Royal Battle!

You Have But Mistook Me All The While... I Live By Bread Like You, Taste Grief, Feel Want, Need Friends. Conditioned Thus How Can You Call Me King?

What Need The Bridge Much Broader Than The Flood?

Time Hath, My Lord, A Wallet At His Back Wherein He Puts Alms For Oblivion, A Great-sized Monster Of Ingratitudes: Those Scraps Are Good Deeds Past, Which Are Devour'd As Fast As They Are Made, Forgot As Soon As Done.