Shakespeare:
I am nothing, gracious lady, but a voice to the pity in your heart: the meanest born may beg for mercy——
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes; ’Tis mightiest in the mightiest.
The Queen:
[Laughs loud.] Ha! ha! ha! The player’s turned preacher. Ha! ha! Hark you [She beckons him nearer.] Your tongue’s too long; I’ll have it cut if it wag so boldly.
Shakespeare:
He loved you well, ma’am, and often spoke of all your greatness. His faults are youth and madcap daring.
The Queen:
I care not. When we’re hurt, we strike. He was kind to you, you say, and so you speak for him; he cheated me——
Shakespeare: