Most dear actors, eat no onions nor garlic, for we are to utter sweet breath.
This sanguine coward, this bed-presser, this horseback-breaker, this huge hill of flesh!
The due of honor in no point omit.
Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day And make me travel forth without my cloak, To let base clouds o'ertake me in my way, Hiding they brav'ry in their rotten smoke?
One sees more devils than vast hell can hold
Then hate me when thou wilt, if ever, now.