Tis Ever Common That Men Are Merriest

Be Not Afeard; The Isle Is Full Of Noises.

What Hands Are Here? Ha! They Pluck Out Mine Eyes! Will All Great Neptune’s Ocean Wash This Blood Clean From My Hand? No; This My Hand Will Rather The Multitudinous Seas Incarnadine, Making The Green One Red.” “my Hands Are Of Your Colour; But I Shame To Wear A Heart So White. A Little Water Clears Us Of This Deed: How Easy It Is Then! Your Constancy Hath Left You Unattended.

Now The Time Is Come, That France Must Veil Her Lofty-plumed Crest, And Let Her Head Fall Into England's Lap.

The Mightier Man, The Mightier Is The Thing That Makes Him Honored Or Begets Him Hate; For Greatest Scandal Waits On Greatest State.

I Was Born Free As Caesar; So Were You