The Tempest
It can express, on the other hand, the bitterest cynicism:
But, man, proud man,
Drest in a little brief authority,
Most ignorant of what he’s most assured,
His glassy essence, like an angry ape,
Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven
As make the angels weep.
Measure for Measure
Or, in prose, Shakespeare can put into words the artless pathos of the humble hostess of the inn: