Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady: we may pick a thousand salads ere we light on such another herb.

“Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie,Which we ascribe to Heaven.”

“Against an oath; the truth thou art unsure.”

“But whate'er I am, nor I nor any man that but man is,With nothing shall be plea…”

“Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust?And, live we how we can, yet…”