If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction.

By the apostle Paul, shadows tonight Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers.

Blessed are the peacemakers on earth.

More matter with less art.

Hal, if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse.

You are strangely troublesome.

Et tu Brute! (You too, Brutus!)