This is the excellent foppery of the world, that, when we are sick in fortune, –often the surfeit of our own behavior,–we make
guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars: as if we were villains by necessity; fools by heavenly compulsion;
knaves, thieves, and treachers, by spherical predominance; drunkards, liars, and adulterers, by an enforced obedience of
planetary influence; and all that we are evil in, by a divine thrusting on: an admirable evasion of whoremaster man, to
lay his goatish disposition to the charge of a star! My father compounded with my mother under the dragon’s tail; and my
nativity was under Ursa major; so that it follows, I am rough and lecherous. Tut, I should have been that I am, had
the maidenliest star in the firmament twinkled on my bastardizing."