You Peasant Swain! You Whoreson Malt-horse Drudge!

I Must Be Cruel, Only To Be Kind.

Fie, Fie, How Frantically I Square My Talk!

Virtue Itself Turns Vice, Being Misapplied, And Vice Sometime By Action Dignified.

To Be Furious, Is To Be Frighted Out Of Fear.

No Beast So Fierce But Knows Some Touch Of Pity. But I Know None, And Therefore Am No Beast.