The laws afford us; let us be content;
For finer wounds the law would, if it could,
Find medicine too; it cannot, let us bear;
For sufferance is the badge of all men’s tribes.
Sp. Because we can’t do all we would,
Does it follow, to do nothing’s good?
No way to help the law’s rough sense
By equities of self-defence?
Well, for yourself it may be nice
To serve vulgarity and vice: