Take physic, pomp, Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayst shake the superflux to them And show the heavens more just.
This supernatural soliciting Cannot be ill, cannot be good.
I have unclasped To thee the book even of my secret soul.
O tiger's heart wrapped in a woman's hide! How couldst thou drain the lifeblood of the child, To bid the father wipe his eyes withal, And yet be seen to bear a woman's face? Women are soft, mild, pitiful, and flexible; Thou stern, obdurate, flinty, rough, remorseless.
No epilogue, I pray you; for your play needs no excuse. Never excuse; for when the players are all dead, there need none to be blamed.
Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?
Never was monarch better feared and loved Than is your Majesty.
Touch me with noble anger, And let not women's weapons, water-drops, Stain my man's cheeks!
Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale, Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.
He's a very dog to the commonalty.