Is She Not Passing Fair?

Swear Me, Kate, Like A Lady As Thou Art, A Good Mouth-filling Oath.

For In The Fatness Of These Pursy Times Virtue Itself Of Vice Must Pardon Beg.

Life's But A Walking Shadow, A Poor Player, That Struts And Frets His Hour Upon The Stage, And Then Is Heard No More; It Is A Tale Told By An Idiot, Full Of Sound And Fury, Signifying Nothing.

For My Part, I May Speak It To My Shame, I Have A Truant Been To Chivalry; And So I Hear He Doth Account Me Too.

Our Remedies Oft In Ourselves Do Lie, Which We Ascribe To Heaven.