Character: the Earl of Oxford

Italian women are so different from the noble English ladies that take what they want, they are honest in their desires...

Why do you continue to write? Why must you continue to humiliate my family?
Is all the voices. Can't stop them, they come to me. When you eat, when you sleep, when you walk down the hall... And sweet dreams young lady, and the irrepressible vanity of the court, the dastardly plans of the killers, pleading their unfortunate victims... Only when I put their voices, their words on parchment, they cast loose, freed, and only then my brain calms down, finding peace. I would go mad if I had not written down these voices.
Is not an obsession is it?
- Maybe you're right.

How could the moon love the one who first saw the sun?