Then if for my love thou my love receives,
I cannot blame thee for my love thou usest
But yet be blamed if thou this self deceivest
By wilful taste of what thyself refusest.
If then true lovers have been ever cross’d,
It stands as an edict in destiny;
Then let us teach our trial patience,
Because it is a customary cross,
As due to love as thoughts and dreams and sights,
Wishes and tears, poor fancy’s followers.
To be or not to be: that is the question:
Whether’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them?
