I have set my life upon a cast, And I will stand the hazard of the die.
He was a man, take him for all in all, I shall not look upon his like again.
The apprehension of the good Gives but the greater feeling to the worse.
My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, Shakes so my single state of man That function is smothered in surmise, And nothing is but what is not.
To hold, as 't were, the mirror up to nature.
Though I am not naturally honest, I am sometimes so by chance.