The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily untie.

My liege, and madam, to expostulate What majesty should be, what duty is, Why day is day, night night, and time is time, Were nothing but to waste night, day and time. Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I will be brief.

Forget, forgive; conclude, and be agreed.

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

Let me have war, say I; it exceeds peace as far as day does night; it's spritely, waking, audible, and full of vent.

Wolves and bears, they say, casting their savagery aside, have done like offices of pity.

How well he's read, to reason against reading!