Act I, Scene 111

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• Shakespeare. O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide,
  The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds,
  That did not better for my life provide
  Than public means which public manners breeds. 1545
  Thence comes it that my name receives a brand,
  And almost thence my nature is subdued
  To what it works in, like the dyer's hand:
  Pity me then and wish I were renew'd;
  Whilst, like a willing patient, I will drink 1550
  Potions of eisel 'gainst my strong infection
  No bitterness that I will bitter think,
  Nor double penance, to correct correction.
  Pity me then, dear friend, and I assure ye
  Even that your pity is enough to cure me. 1555