Things without all remedy
Should be without regard: what’s done is done.
Art thou afeard
To be the same in thine own act and valour
As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that
Which thou esteem’st the ornament of life,
And live a coward in thine own esteem,
Letting ‘I dare not’ wait upon ‘I would’?
Nought’s had, all’s spent,
Where our desire is got without content