“O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies/In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities:/For nought so vile that on the earth doth live/But to the earth some special good doth give,/Nor aught so good but, strain’d from that fair use,/Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse./Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied;/And vice sometimes by action dignified./Within the infant rind of this weak flower/Poison hath residence and medicine power:/For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part;/Being tasted, stays all senses with the heart./Two such opposed kings encamp them still/In man as well as herbs, grace and rude will;/And where the worser is predominant,/Full soon the canker death eats up that plant.”
William Shakespeare, Rome and Juliet, II.3 Weiterlesen