Wise men ne'er sit and wail their woes, but presently prevent the ways to wail.
Lady, with me, with me thy fortune lies.
These words are razors to my wounded heart.
Or art thou but / A dagger of the mind, a false creation, / Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
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.
With this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature. for anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature.