Twelfth Night

Not black in my mind, though yellow in my legs. It
did come to his hands, and commands shall be
executed. I think we do know the sweet Roman
hand (III.iv)

Go, hang yourselves all! You are idle shallow
things. I am not of your element (III.iv)

I have said too much unto a heart of stone
And laid mine honor too unchary out (III.iv)