To whom should I complain? Did I tell this,
Who would believe me? O perilous mouths,
That bear in them one and the self-same tongue,

Most bounteous sir:
Look, if it please you, on this man condemn’d
As if my brother liv’d. I partly think
A due sincerity governed his deeds,

Because authority, though it err like others,
Hath yet a kind of medicine in itself,
That skins the vice o’ th’ top.

We cannot weigh our brother with ourself.
Great men may jest with saints; ’tis wit in them,
But in the less foul profanation…

Could great men thunder
As Jove himself does, Jove would never be quiet,
For every pelting, petty officer
Would use his heaven for thunder,

So you must be the first that gives this sentence,
And he, that suffers. O, it is excellent
To have a giant’s strength;

Oh, it is excellent to have a giant’s strength,
But it is tyrannous to use it like a giant.