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How all occasions do inform against me, And spur my dull revenge! What is a man If his chief good and market of his time Be but to sleep and feed? A beast, no more.
Sure, he that made us with such large discourse,

Everything around me tells me how Ive been wrong And tells me to keep going with my revenge. What are we if our only purpose is to Eat and sleep? We would be just like the animals.
God didnt create us with the ability to think

That capability and godlike reason To fust in us unused. Now, whether it be Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple Of thinking too precisely on th' event
A thought which, quartered, hath but one part wisdom

And reason if we were not Going to use them. Whether it is Animal-likeness or cowardice Because I have been thinking too much
Thoughts that are partially wise

And ever three parts cowardI do not know Why yet I live to say This things to do,
Sith I have cause and will and strength and means

To do t. Examples gross as earth exhort me. Witness this army of such mass and charge Led by a delicate and tender prince, Whose spirit with divine ambition puffed Exposing what is mortal and unsure To all that fortune, death, and danger dare, Even for an eggshell. Rightly to be great Is not to stir without great argument, But greatly to find quarrel in a straw When honors at the stake. How stand I then, That have a father killed, a mother stained, Excitements of my reason and my blood, And let all sleepwhile, to my shame, I see The imminent death of twenty thousand men, That for a fantasy and trick of fame Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause, Which is not tomb enough and continent To hide the slain? Oh, from this time forth, My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!

But mostly cowardice. I dont know why I am still alive to say I have to take revenge I have the motivation the cause and the ability It is as obvious as the ground I am standing on. I see this huge army Led by a frail and elegant prince Who is so full of wonderful desire That he puts his own life at risk Exposing himself to risk and peril For something so small and unimportant. Being great is not only fighting for big reasons But to stand strong even for small things When honor is at risk. Where am I now? My father is dead, my mother defiled, Mental and emotional challenge And leave it all alone-While to my humiliation I see this huge army going to their destruction For an illusion and a small moment of glory They go to their deaths for a little piece of land That is not even big enough to bury The bodies of the people who will Die in the battle. From now on, If my thoughts are not brutal they will be worthless.