“Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! Rage! Blow! You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout Till you have drenched our teeples, drowned the cocks! You sulphurour and thought-executing fires, Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts, Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder, Strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world! Crack nature's molds, all germens spill at once That make ingrateful man!”

“Rumble thy bellyful! Spit, fire! spout, rain!Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire, are my daughters:I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness;I never gave you kingdom, call'd you children,You owe me no subscription: then let fallYour horrible pleasure: here I stand, your slave,A poor, infirm, weak, and despised old man:But yet I call you servile ministers,That have with two pernicious daughters join'dYour high engender'd battles 'gainst a headSo old and white as this. O! O! 'tis foul!”

“And pity, like a new-born babe,Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubim, horsedUpon the sightless couriers of the air,Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye,That tears shall drown the wind.”

“You are not worth the dust which the rude wind blows in your face”

“If after every tempest come such calms,May the winds blow till they have waken'd death!”

“Ay, to the proof, as mountains are for winds, that shakes not, though they blow perpetually.”

“Think you a little din can daunt mine ears?Have I not in my time heard lions roar?Have I not heard the sea, puffed up with winds,Rage like an angry boar chafed with sweat?Have I not heard great ordinance in the field,And Heaven's artillery thunder in the skies?Have I not in a pitched battle heardLoud 'larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets' clang?And do you tell me of a woman's tongue, That gives not half so great a blow to hearAs will a chestnut in a farmer's fire?Tush! tush! fear boys with bugs.Grumio: For he fears none.”