Rough Winds Do Shake The Darling Buds

But, Soft! What Light Through Yonder Window Breaks? It Is The East, And Juliet Is The Sun.

Let No Such Man Be Trusted.

Lady, You Are The Cruel'st She Alive If You Will Lead These Graces To The Grave And Leave The World No Copy.

An Earnest Conjuration From The King, As England Was His Faithful Tributary, As Love Between Them Like The Palm Might Flourish, As Peace Should Still Her Wheaten Garland Wear And Stand A Comma 'tween Their Amities, And Many Such-like As's Of Great Charge, That, On The View And Knowing Of These Contents, Without Debatement Further, More Or Less, He Should The Bearers Put To Sudden Death, Not Shriving Time Allow'd.

I Would Fain Die A Dry Death.