I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano!
I'll give my jewels for a set of beads, My gorgeous palace for a hermitage, My gay apparel for an almsman's gown, My figured goblets for a dish of wood, My scepter for a palmer's walking staff My subjects for a pair of carved saints and my large kingdom for a little grave.
Thy words, I grant are bigger, for I wear not, my dagger in my mouth.
Our wills and fates do so contrary run.
The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, which still we thank as love.
Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies Which busy care draws in the brains of men; Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.