There Is No More Mercy

Alas, How Love Can Trifle With Itself!

I Would That I Were Low Laid In My Grave. I Am Not Worth This Coil That's Made For Me.

The Play's The Thing.

But I, That Am Not Shaped For Sportive Tricks, Nor Made To Court An Amorous Looking-glass; I, That Am Rudely Stamped, And Want Love's Majesty To Strut Before A Wanton Ambling Nymph.

I Am A Subject, And I Challenge Law. Attorneys Are Denied Me, And Therefore Personally I Lay My Claim To My Inheritance Of Free Descent.