Would I were in an alehouse in London.
A little water clears us of this deed.
Lord, Lord, how this world is given to lying!
Sweet flowers are slow and weeds make haste.
He hath disgrac'd me and hind'red me half a million; laugh'd at my losses, mock'd at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted my bargains, cooled my friends, heated my enemies. And what's his reason? I am a Jew.
O, reason not the need!