Or are you like the painting of a sorrow, a face without a heart?

“Men at some time are masters of their fates. The fault, dear Brutus, is not in …”

“How darkly and how deadly dost thou speak!Your eyes do menace me. Why look you …”

“The iron tongue of Midnight hathtold twelve lovers, to bed; 'tisalmost fairy ti…”

“Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth.— Joy, gentle friends! joy and fres…”