O polished perturbation! golden care! That keep'st the ports of slumber open wide To many a watchful night.
A pair of star-crossed lovers.
Love will not be spurred to what it loathes
Should the poor be flattered? No; let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp, and crook the pregnant hinges of the knee where thrift may follow fawning.
And where the offense is, let the great axe fall.
Thou hast seen a farmer's dog bark at a beggar? And the creature run from the cur. There thou mightst behold the great image of authority-a dog's obeyed in office.