1 See, and then speak yourselves.
2 With my sword I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.
3 Be not offended: I speak not as in absolute fear of you.
4 If such a one be fit to govern, speak: I am as I have spoken.
5 I pray you, speak not; he grows worse and worse; Question enrages him.
6 Thou speak'st with all thy wit; And yet, i faith, with wit enough for thee.
7 The grief that does not speak Whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break.
8 Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends; For my heart speaks they are welcome.
9 Make all our trumpets speak; give them all breath, Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.
10 O gentle lady, 'Tis not for you to hear what I can speak: The repetition, in a woman's ear, Would murder as it fell.'
11 With this strange virtue, He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy; And sundry blessings hang about his throne, That speak him full of grace.
12 If thou speak'st false, Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive, Till famine cling thee: if thy speech be sooth, I care not if thou dost for me as much.
13 If you can look into the seeds of time, And say which grain will grow, and which will not, Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear Your favours nor your hate.
14 Stones have been known to move, and trees to speak; Augurs, and understood relations, have By magot-pies, and choughs, and rooks, brought forth The secret'st man of blood.
15 I am yet Unknown to woman; never was forsworn; Scarcely have coveted what was mine own; At no time broke my faith; would not betray The devil to his fellow; and delight No less in truth than life: my first false speaking Was this upon myself.
16 He chid the sisters When first they put the name of king upon me, And bade them speak to him; then, prophet-like, They hail'd him father to a line of kings: Upon my head they plac'd a fruitless crown, And put a barren sceptre in my gripe, Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand, No son of mine succeeding.