I Despised My Arrival On This Earth

Since Mine Own Doors Refuse To Entertain Me, I'll Knock Elsewhere, To See If They'll Disdain Me

You Peasant Swain! You Whoreson Malt-horse Drudge!

Oh, I Am Fortune's Fool!

If You Prick Us Do We Not Bleed? If You Tickle Us Do We Not Laugh? If You Poison Us Do We Not Die? And If You Wrong Us Shall We Not Revenge?

Do Not, As Some Ungracious Pastors Do, Show Me The Steep And Thorny Way To Heaven; Whilst, Like A Puff'd And Reckless Libertine, Himself The Primrose Path Of Dalliance Treads And Recks Not His Own Read.