I Have More Care To Stay Than

I Am Sure Care's An Enemy To Life.

Myself--a Prince By Fortune Of My Birth, Near To The King In Blood, And Near In Love Till You Did Make Him Misinterpret Me-- Have Stooped My Neck Under Your Injuries And Sighed My English Breath In Foreign Clouds, Eating The Bitter Bread Of Banishment, Whilst You Have Fed Upon My Signories, Disparked My Parks And Felled My Forest Woods, From My Own Windows Torn My Household Coat, Rased Out My Imprese, Leaving Me No Sign, Save Men's Opinions And My Living Blood, To Show The World I Am A Gentleman.

You Draw Me, You Hard-hearted Adamant; But Yet You Draw Not Iron, For My Heart Is True As Steel: Leave You Your Power To Draw, And I Shall Have No Power To Follow You.

I Can Give The Loser Leave To Chide.

Love Adds A Precious Seeing To The Eye.