Th Abuse Of Greatness Is When It

I Can Hardly Forbear Hurling Things At Him.

As Love Is Full Of Unbefitting Strains, All Wanton As A Child, Skipping And Vain, Form'd By The Eye And Therefore, Like The Eye, Full Of Strange Shapes, Of Habits And Of Forms, Varying In Subjects As The Eye Doth Roll To Every Varied Object In His Glance

Uneasy Lies The Head That Wears A Crown.

Headstrong Liberty Is Lashed With Woe.

O Faithless Coward! O Dishonest Wretch! Wilt Thou Be Made A Man Out Of My Vice?