The Play's The Thing, Wherein I'll Catch

He's Mad That Trusts In The Tameness Of A Wolf.

The Play's The Thing, Wherein I'll Catch The Conscience Of The King.

Thou Hast Not Half That Power To Do Me Harm As I Have To Be Hurt.

A College Of Wit-crackers Cannot Flout Me Out Of My Humor. Dost Thou Think I Care For A Satire Or An Epigram?

Be Wise As Thou Art Cruel, Do Not Press My Tongue-tied Patience With Too Much Disdain: Lest Sorrow Lend Me Words And Words Express, The Manner Of My Pity-wanting Pain.