I'll be damned for never a king's son in Christendom.
As you from crimes would pardon'd be, Let your indulgence set me free.
Now join your hands, and with your hands your hearts.
I do profess to be no less than I seem; to serve him truly that will put me in trust: to love him that is honest; to converse with him that is wise, and says little; to fear judgment; to fight when I cannot choose; and to eat no fish.
Venus smiles not in a house of tears.
You see me here, you gods, a poor old man, As full of grief as age; wretched in both.