Hamlet: Is This A Prologue, Or The

Thrice Is He Arm'd That Hath His Quarrel Just, And He But Naked, Though Lock'd Up In Steel, Whose Conscience With Injustice Is Corrupted.

This Bud Of Love, By Summer's Ripening Breath, May Prove A Beauteous Flower When Next We Meet

Come Give Us A Taste Of Your Quality.

The Quality Of Mercy Is Not Strain'd, It Droppeth As The Gentle Rain From Heaven Upon The Place Beneath: It Is Twice Blest; It Blesseth Him That Gives And Him That Takes: 'tis Mightiest In The Mightiest: It Becomes The Throned Monarch Better Than His Crown; His Sceptre Shows The Force Of Temporal Power, The Attribute To Awe And Majesty, Wherein Doth Sit The Dread And Fear Of Kings; But Mercy Is Above This Sceptred Sway; It Is Enthroned In The Hearts Of Kings, It Is An Attribute To God Himself; And Earthly Power Doth Then Show Likest God's When Mercy Seasons Justice.

The Heavens Forbid But That Our Loves And Comforts Should Increase Even As Our Days Do Grow!