Up and down, up and down I will lead them up and down I am feared in field in town Goblin, lead them up and down

But men may construe things after their fashion, Clean from the purpose of the things themselves.

I am a kind of burr; I shall stick.

Dream on, dream on, of bloody deeds and death.

Tis in ourselves that we are thus or thus. Our bodies are our gardens to the which our wills are gardeners.

But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve For daws to peck at: I am not what I am.

Thou weedy elf-skinned canker-blossom!