At my nativity
The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,
Of burning cressets: and at my birth
The frame and huge foundation of the earth
Shaked like a coward.
Hotspur. Why so it would have done at the same season, if
your mother's cat had but kittened, though yourself had never
been born.
1 Hen. IV., 3, 1, 13.