By Heaven, I love thee better than myself
For love, thou know'st, is full of jealousy
This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-Paradise.
These words are razors to my wounded heart.
They whose guilt within their bosom lies, imagine every eye beholds their blame.
All things are ready, if our mind be so.