The Law Hath Not Been Dead, Though

Thy Best Of Rest Is Sleep, And That Thou Oft Provok'st; Yet Grossly Fear'st Thy Death, Which Is No More.

For My Part, If A Lie May Do Thee Grace, I'll Gild It With The Happiest Terms I Have.

Cordelia! Stay A Little. Ha! What Is't Thou Say'st? Her Voice Was Ever Soft.

Fare Thee Well, King: Sith Thus Thou Wilt Appear, Freedom Lives Hence, And Banishment Is Here.

Like One Who Having Into Truth, By Telling Of It, Made Such A Sinner Of His Memory, To Credit His Own Lie.