If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me.
If I be waspish, best beware my sting.
There was a star danced, and under that was I born.
No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity. But I know none, and therefore am no beast.
The pow'r that I have on you is to spare you; The malice towards you to forgive you.
The silence often of pure innocence persuades when speaking fails.