(music)
Thou shouldst be mad.
And I to make thee mad do mock thee thus!
We accept of the King's mercy, but we will
not show mercy upon the strangers.
Why 'Bastard'?
I could not endure a husband with a beard
on his face!
I'd rather lie in the woollen.
Fortune forbid my outside hath not charmed
her.
My stars shine darkly over me.
I love your son.
I follow him to serve my turn upon him.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood and teach
them how to war!
Seeking the bubble reputation, even in the
cannon's mouth.
But now I see our lances are but straws.
What is this quintessence of dust?
Women, come.
This, is the stranger's case.
And this, your mountainous
inhumanity.
