「The main blaze of it is past, but a samll thing would make it flame again.」
「Every gash was an enemy's grave.」
「Before him he carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears. Death, that dark spirit, in his nervy arm doth lie. Which, being advanced, declines, and then men die.」
「Would you have me false to my nature? Rather say I play the man I am.
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I have a heart as little apt as yours, but yet a brain that leads my use of anger to better vantage.」
「You common cry of curs! Whose breath I hate as reeks of 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. Let every feeble rumor shake your hearts. Your enemies, with nodding of their caps, fan you into despair. Have the power still to banish your defenders, till at length your ignorance, which finds no…
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