I Do Begin To Have Bloody Thoughts.

The Strawberry Grows Underneath The Nettle And Wholesome Berries Thrive And Ripen Best Neighbour'd By Fruit Of Baser Quality.

Why, Look You, I Am Whipp'd And Scourg'd With Rods, Nettled And Stung With Pismires[nettles], When I Hear Of This Vile Politician, Bolingbroke.

O That Men's Ears Should Be To Counsel Deaf But Not To Flattery!

I Would Fain Die A Dry Death.

He That Is Robbed, Not Wanting What Is Stolen, Him Not Know T, And He's Not Robbed At All.