Troilus and Cressida, [1.3.45-53]. Nest. “Even so/ Doth valor’s show and valor’s worth divide/ In storms of fortune. For in her ray and brightness/ The herd hath more annoyance by the breese/ Than by the tiger; but when the splitting wind/ Makes flexible the knees of knotted oaks,/ And flies fled under shade, why, then the thing of courage,/ As rous’d with rage, with rage doth sympathize,/ And with an accent tun’d in selfsame key/ Retorts to chiding fortune.”

Riverside: a breese is a gadfly.

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