And How His Audit Stands Who Knows,

And Thou, All-shaking Thunder, Strike Flat The Thick Rotundity O' The World! Crack Nature's Moulds, All Germens Spill At Once That Makes Ingrateful Man!

So May The Outward Shows Be Least Themselves; The World Is Still Deceived With Ornament.

I Am Indeed Not Her Fool, But Her Corrupter Of Words. (act Iii, Sc. I, 37-38)

Nothing Routs Us But The Villainy Of Our Fears.

I Will Be Free, Even To The Uttermost, As I Please, In Words.