Boundless intemperance
In nature is a tyranny. It hath been
Th' untimely emptying of the happy throne
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Boundless intemperance
In nature is a tyranny. It hath been
Th' untimely emptying of the happy throne
And fall of many kings.

In honest plainness thou hast heard me say
My daughter is not for thee; and now, in madness,
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In honest plainness thou hast heard me say
My daughter is not for thee; and now, in madness,
Being full of supper and distemp'ring draughts,
Upon malicious knavery does thou come
To start my quiet.

Drunkenness is nothing but voluntary madness.
[Lat., Nihil aliud est ebrietas quam voluntaria insania.]

Drunkenness is nothing but voluntary madness.
[Lat., Nihil aliud est ebrietas quam voluntaria insania.]

(Olivia:) What's a drunken man like, fool?
(Clown:) Like a drowned man, a fool, and a madman. One draught read more

(Olivia:) What's a drunken man like, fool?
(Clown:) Like a drowned man, a fool, and a madman. One draught
above heat makes him a fool, the seconds mads him, and a third
drowns him.

I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; a quarrel,
but nothing wherefore. O God, that men should read more

I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; a quarrel,
but nothing wherefore. O God, that men should put an enemy in
their mouths to steal away their brains! that we should with
joy, pleasance, revel, and applause transform ourselves into
beasts!

Ha! see where the wild-blazing Grog-Shop appears,
As the red waves of wretchedness swell,
How it burns read more

Ha! see where the wild-blazing Grog-Shop appears,
As the red waves of wretchedness swell,
How it burns on the edge of tempestuous years
The horrible Light-House of Hell!

Shall I, to please another wine-sprung minde,
Lose all mine own? God hath giv'n me a measure
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Shall I, to please another wine-sprung minde,
Lose all mine own? God hath giv'n me a measure
Short of His can and body; must I find
A pain in that, wherein he finds a pleasure?

Soon as the potion works, their human count'nance,
Th' express resemblance of the gods, is chang'd
Into read more

Soon as the potion works, their human count'nance,
Th' express resemblance of the gods, is chang'd
Into some bruitish form of wolf or bear,
Or ounce or tiger, hog, or bearded goat,
All other parts remaining as they were;
And they, so perfect in their misery,
Not once perceive their foul disfigurement.

. . . And when night
Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons
Of Belial, flown read more

. . . And when night
Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons
Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.