That in the captains but a choleric word Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy.
Thou seest I have more flesh than another man, and therefore more frailty.
God's will! my liege, would you and I alone, Without more help, could fight this royal battle!
But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on, Leaving no tract behind.
The coward dies a thousand deaths, the valiant, only once!
A woman moved is like a fountain troubled, Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty.