I Will Be Brief. Your Noble Son

There's Daggers In Men's Smiles.

We Were Not Born To Sue, But To Command.

Say, What Abridgement Have You For This Evening? What Masque, What Music? How Shall We Beguile The Lazy Time If Not With Some Delight?

The Hand That Hath Made You Fair Hath Made You Good. Pity Is The Virtue Of The Law, And None But Tyrants Use It Cruelly.

If You Be King, Why Should Not I Succeed?