O, here
Will I set up my everlasting rest,
And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars
From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last!
Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you
The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss
A dateless bargain to engrossing death!

“What means this shouting? I do fear, the peopleChoose Caesar for their king.”

“A gross hagAnd, lozel, thou art worthy to be hang'd, That wilt not stay her ton…”

“Zounds, sir, you are one of those that will not serve God if the devil bid you.…”

“As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have; but, in…”