To Be Slow In Words Is A

The Thorny Point Of Bare Distress Hath Ta'en From Me The Show Of Smooth Civility; Yet Am I Inland Bred And Know Some Nurture.

Come, Swear It, Damn Thyself, Lest, Being Like One Of Heaven, The Devils Themselves Should Fear To Seize Thee; Therefore Be Double-damned, Swear,--thou Art Honest.

By Being Seldom Seen, I Could Not Stir But Like A Comet I Was Wondered At.

Your Cause Of Sorrow Must Not Be Measured By His Worth, For Then It Hath No End.

I Am A Kind Of Burr; I Shall Stick.