Speak The Speech, I Pray You, As

I Will Chide No Breather In The World But Myself, Against Whom I Know Most Faults.

There's Nothing In This World Can Make Me Joy: Life Is As Tedious As A Twice-told Tale Vexing The Dull Ear Of A Drowsy Man; And Bitter Shame Hath Spoil'd The Sweet World's Taste That It Yields Nought But Shame And Bitterness.

What Freezings I Have Felt, What Dark Days Seen, What Old December's Bareness Everywhere!

There's An Old Saying That Applies To Me: You Can't Lose A Game If You Don't Play The Game. (act 1, Scene 4)

Women's Weapons, Water-drops.