Art thou afeard To be the same in thine own act and valour As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, And live a coward in thine own esteem, Letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would,' Like the poor cat i' the adage?
My cousin's a fool, and thou art another.
You taught me language, and my profit on't / Is, I know how to curse
O, let my books be then the eloquence and dumb presages of my speaking breast.
A king of infinite space
Put forth thy hand, reach at the glorious gold.