The Apprehension Of The Good Gives But

You Lack The Season Of All Natures, Sleep.

For I Can Raise No Money By Vile Means. By Heaven, I Had Rather Coin My Heart, And Drop My Blood For Drachmas

The Play's The Thing.

These Blessed Candles Of The Night.

This Sanguine Coward, This Bed-presser, This Horseback-breaker, This Huge Hill Of Flesh!