This is his uncle's teaching, this Worcester, Malevolent to you In all aspects, Which makes him prune himself and bristle up The crest of youth against your dignity.

Cursed be he that moves my bones.

I will make a Star-chamber matter of it.

thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most sharp sauce.

Ill deeds are doubled with an evil word.

That god forbid, that made me first your slave, I should in thought control your times of pleasure, Or at your hand th' account of hours to crave, Being your vassal bound to stay your leisure.

I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness, And from that full meridian of my glory I haste now to my setting.