Is he on his horse? O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony!
I will be free, even to the uttermost, as I please, in words.
Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off ... Do not for ever with thy vailed lids Seek for thy noble father in the dust.
Gnawing with my teeth my bonds in sunder, I gain'd my freedom.
Say, thou art mine; and ever, My love, as it begins, shall so persevere
Tis but a base, ignoble mind That mounts no higher than a bird can soar.