But, to my mind, though I am native here/ And to the manner born, it is a custom/ More honored in the breach than the observance.../ Makes us traduced and taxed of other nations./ They clepe us drunkards and with swinish phrase/ Soil our addition
What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord?/ Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff/ That beetles o’er his base into the sea/ And there assume some other horrible form/ Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason
Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole/With juice of cursed hebona in a vial/ And in the porches of my ears did pour/ The leprous distilment, whose effect… with a sudden vigor it doth / And curd, like eager droppings into milk/ The thin and wholesome blood
Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive /Against thy mother aught./ Leave her to heaven/ And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge/ To prick and sting her.
How strange or odd some'er I bear myself/ (As I perchance hereafter shall think meet/ To put an antic disposition on)/ That you, at such times seeing me, never shall,/ With arms encumbered thus, or this headshake,/ Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase… swear