It Will Have Blood, They Say; Blood

Tis No Sin For A Man To Labor In His Vocation.

Iago: She That Was Ever Fair And Never Proud, Had Tongue At Will And Yet Was Never Loud, Never Lack'd Gold And Yet Went Never Gay, Fled From Her Wish And Yet Said 'now I May,' She That Being Anger'd, Her Revenge Being Nigh, Bade Her Wrong Stay And Her Displeasure Fly, She That In Wisdom Never Was So Frail To Change The Cod's Head For The Salmon's Tail; She That Could Think And Ne'er Disclose Her Mind, See Suitors Following And Not Look Behind, She Was A Wight, If Ever Such Wight Were,-- Desdemona: To Do What? Iago: To Suckle Fools And Chronicle Small Beer.

The Prince Of Darkness Is A Gentleman!

Polonius: Do You Know Me, My Lord? Hamlet: Excellent Well. You Are A Fishmonger.

O, How I Faint When I Of You Do Write, Knowing A Better Spirit Doth Use Your Name, And In The Praise Thereof Spends All His Might To Make Me Tongue-tied Speaking Of Your Fame.