Thou Art A Castilian King Urinal!

O, How Wretched Is That Poor Man That Hangs On Princes' Favors.

Is There No Respect Of Place, Persons, Nor Time In You?

Quince Francis Flute, The Bellows-mender. Flute Here, Peter Quince. Quince Flute, You Must Take Thisby On You. Flute What Is Thisby? A Wandering Knight? Quince It Is The Lady That Pyramus Must Love. Flute Nay, Faith, Let Me Not Play A Woman; I Have A Beard Coming.

The Benediction Of These Covering Heavens Fall On Their Heads Like Dew, For They Are Worthy To Inlay Heaven With Stars.

Out, You Tallow-face! You Baggage!