A Knavish Speech Sleeps In A Fool's

Some Men There Are Love Not A Gaping Pig, Some That Are Mad If They Behold A Cat, And Others When The Bagpipe Sings I The Nose Cannot Contain Their Urine.

You Common Cry Of Curs! Whose Breath I Hate As Reek O' The Rotten Fens, Whose Loves I Prize As The Dead Carcasses Of Unburied Men That Do Corrupt My Air, I Banish You; And Here Remain With Your Uncertainty!

I Scorn You, Scurvy Companion.

Men Should Be What They Seem; Or Those That Be Not, Would They Might Seem None!.

Out Of My Sight! Thou Dost Infect Mine Eyes.