Lilies That Fester Smell Far Worse Than

The Strawberry Grows Underneath The Nettle And Wholesome Berries Thrive And Ripen Best Neighbour'd By Fruit Of Baser Quality.

Be Not Afeard; The Isle Is Full Of Noises, Sounds, And Sweet Airs, That Give Delight And Hurt Not. Sometimes A Thousand Twangling Instruments Will Hum About Mine Ears; And Sometime Voices, That, If I Then Had Waked After Long Sleep, Will Make Me Sleep Again: And Then, In Dreaming, The Clouds Methought Would Open, And Show Riches Ready To Drop Upon Me; That, When I Waked, I Cried To Dream Again.

If You Prick Us Do We Not Bleed? If You Tickle Us Do We Not Laugh? If You Poison Us Do We Not Die? And If You Wrong Us Shall We Not Revenge?

But Thought's The Slave Of Life, And Life Time's Fool.

If I Shall Be Condemned Upon Surmises, All Proofs Sleeping Else But What Your Jealousies Awake, I Tell You 'tis Rigor And Not Law.