I Swear Again, I Would Not Be

The Latter End Of A Fray, And The Beginning Of A Feast, Fits A Dull Fighter, And A Keen Guest.

No, Time, Thou Shalt Not Boast That I Do Change.

I Hold The World But As The World, Gratiano; A Stage Where Every Man Must Play A Part, And Mine Is A Sad One.

Tis Much When Sceptres Are In Children's Hands, But More When Envy Breeds Unkind Division: There Comes The Ruin, There Begins Confusion.

Conscience Is A Blushing, Shamefaced Spirit Than Mutinies In A Man's Bosom; It Fills One Full Of Obstacles.