human
Ill-weaved ambition, how much art thou shrunk! When that this body did contain a spirit, A kingdom for it was too small a bound: But now, two paces of the vilest earth Is room enough.
gpt
Fond fool! six feet shall serve for all thy store, And he that cares for most shall find no more.
human
How little room do we take up in death, That, living, knew no bounds!
gpt
Much you had of land and rent; Your length in clays's now competent.
human
And of all my lands Is nothing left me but my body's length.
gpt
The place thou pressest on thy mother Earth Is all thy empire now.