As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion.

Or have we eaten on the insane root / That takes the reason prisoner?

You should be women, / And yet your beards forbid me to interpret / That you are so.

Good sir, why do you start and seem to fear / Things that do sound so fair?—

What are these, / So wither’d, and so wild in their attire, / That look not like the inhabitants o’ th’ earth, / And yet are on’t?—Live you? or are you aught / That man may question?

A heavy summons lies like lead upon me, / And yet I would not sleep. Merciful powers, / Restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature / Gives way to in repose!

I dreamt last night of the three Weird Sisters: / To you they have show’d some truth.

In the great hand of God I stand; and thence / Against the undivulg’d pretence I fight / Of treasonous malice.

So is he mine; and in such bloody distance, / That every minute of his being thrusts / Against my near’st of life;

There is none but he / Whose being I do fear: and under him / My genius is rebuk’d; as, it is said, / Mark Antony’s was by Caesar.