Our Enemies Are Our Outward Consciences.

Quote: What Angel Wakes Me From My Flowery Bed?

Pause Awhile, And Let My Counsel Sway You.

I Have Bought Golden Opinions From All Sorts Of People.

This Rough Magic I Here Abjure And When I Have Required Some Heavenly Music, Which Even Now I Do, To Work Mine End Upon Their Senses That This Airy Charm Is For, I'll Break My Staff, Bury It Certain Fathoms In The Earth, And Deeper Than Did Ever Plummet Sound, I'll Drown My Book.

Lord, Lord, How This World Is Given To Lying!