| Within her womb; which, for enlargement striving, | |
| Shakes the old beldam earth and topples down | |
| Steeples and moss-grown towers. At your birth | |
| Our grandam earth, having this distemperature, | |
| In passion shook. | |
| GLENDOWER Cousin, of many men | |
| I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave | |
| To tell you once again that at my birth | |
| The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes, | |
| The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds | |
| Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields. | |
| These signs have mark'd me extraordinary; | |
| And all the courses of my life do show | |
| I am not in the roll of common men. | |
| Where is he living, clipp'd in with the sea | |
| That chides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales, | |
| Which calls me pupil, or hath read to me? | |
| And bring him out that is but woman's son | |
| Can trace me in the tedious ways of art | |