#sakespeare

The Fool’s prophecy, Act 3, Sc. 2. This is a brave night to cool a courtesan I’ll speak a prophecy ere I go: When Supremes are more in word than matter,When brewers mar their malt with water, When Senators are their tailors’ tutors,No traitors burned but wenches’ suitors, When every case in law is wrong,No King in debt, nor no poor son; When influencers live in tongues,And killers come to…

Being your slave, what should I do but tend

Upon the hours and times of your desire?

I have no precious time at all to spend,

Nor service to do, till you require.

Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour

Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,

Nor think the bitterness of absence sour

When you have bid you servant once adieu;

Nor dare I question with my jealous thought

Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,

But like a sad slave, stay and think of nought

Save, where you are how happy you make those.

So true a fool is love that in you will,