King Henry VIII. — III. 2
Anger
Anger is like
A full-hot horse, who being allowed his way,
Self-mettle tires him.
King Henry VIII. — I. 1
Arrogance
There are a sort of men, whose visages
Do cream and mantle like a standing pond,
And do a willful stillness entertain,
With purpose to be dressed in an opinion
Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit,
As who should say, “i am Sir Oracle,
And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!”
O! my Antonio, I do know of these
That therefore are reputed wise
For saying nothing, when, I am sure,
If they should speak, would almost dam those ears,
Which, hearing them, would call their brothers fools.