For where thou art, there is the world itself, With every several pleasure in the world, And where thou art not, desolation.
Is there no respect of place, persons, nor time in you?
Wisely, I say, I am a bachelor.
Religious canons, civil laws, are cruel; then what should war be?
My charity is outrage, life my shame; And in that shame still live my sorrow's rage!
Beware of entrance to a quarrel, but, being in, bear t that th' opposed may beware of thee.