He Receives Comfort Like Cold Porridge.

Hang Those That Talk Of Fear.

I'll Privily Away; I Love The People, But Do Not Like To Stage Me To Their Eyes; Though It Do Well, I Do Not Relish Well Their Loud Applause And Aves Vehement, Nor Do I Think The Man Of Safe Discretion That Does Not Affect It.

So Many Horrid Ghosts.

What A Deformed Thief This Fashion Is.

Mine Honour Is My Life; Both Grow In One; Take Honour From Me, And My Life Is Done.