1 My father's of a better nature, sir, Than he appears by speech.
2 I might call him A thing divine, for nothing natural I ever saw so noble.
3 But thy vile race, Though thou didst learn, had that in 't which good natures Could not abide to be with.'
4 This is as strange a maze as e'er men trod, And there is in this business more than nature Was ever conduct of.
5 I perceive these lords At this encounter do so much admire That they devour their reason, and scarce think Their eyes do offices of truth, their words Are natural breath.
6 A devil, a born devil, on whose nature Nurture can never stick; on whom my pains, Humanely taken, all, all lost, quite lost; And as with age his body uglier grows, So his mind cankers.
7 --Flesh and blood, You, brother mine, that entertained ambition, Expelled remorse and nature, whom, with Sebastian, Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong, Would here have killed your king, I do forgive thee, Unnatural though thou art.
8 All things in common nature should produce Without sweat or endeavor; treason, felony, Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine Would I not have; but nature should bring forth Of its own kind all foison, all abundance, To feed my innocent people.
9 I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated To closeness and the bettering of my mind With that which, but by being so retired, O'erprized all popular rate, in my false brother Awaked an evil nature, and my trust, Like a good parent, did beget of him A falsehood in its contrary as great As my trust was, which had indeed no limit, A confidence sans bound.