He Is White-livered And Red-faced.

Lawless Are They That Make Their Wills Their Law.

I Know No Ways To Mince It In Love, But Directly To Say - I Love You

Dost Thou Think, Because Thou Art Virtuous, There Shall Be No More Cakes And Ale?

O, Let Him Pass. He Hates Him That Would Upon The Rack Of This Tough World Stretch Him Out Longer.

O Horror! Horror! Horror! Tongue Nor Heart Cannot Conceive Nor Name Thee!