Night's Candles Have Burned Out, And Jocund

Wisdom And Fortune Combating Together, If That The Former Dare But What It Can, No Chance May Shake It.

Henceforth, I'll Bear Affliction Till It Do Cry Out Itself, 'enough, Enough, And Die.

By That Sin Fell The Angels.

Art Thou Afeard To Be The Same In Thine Own Act And Valour As Thou Art In Desire? Wouldst Thou Have That Which Thou Esteem'st The Ornament Of Life, And Live A Coward In Thine Own Esteem, Letting 'i Dare Not' Wait Upon 'i Would,' Like The Poor Cat I' The Adage?

Death, That Hath Suck'd The Honey Of Thy Breath Hath Had No Power Yet Upon Thy Beauty.