Come cousin,
Canst thou quake, and change thy colour,
Murder thy breath in middle of a word,
And then begin again and stop again
As if thou were distraught and mad with terror?
BUCK.
Tut, I can counterfeit the deep tragedian,
Speak and look back and pry on every side,
Tumble and start at wagging of a straw,
Intending deep suspicion; ghastly looks