I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offences at my beck than I have thoughts to put them in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in.
Alas, our frailty is the cause , not we! For, such as we are made of, such we be.
I will be brief. Your noble son is mad.
The proverb is something musty.
O, call back yesterday, bid time return
Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light