What Seest Thou Else In The Dark

This Sleep Is Sound Indeed; This Is A Sleep That From This Golden Rigol Hath Divorc'd So Many English Kings.

...an Old Man Is Twice A Child.

As I Hope For Quiet Days, Fair Issue, And Long Life, With Such Love As 'tis Now, The Murkiest Den, The Most Opportune Place, The Strong'st Suggestion Our Worser Genius Can, Shall Never Melt Mine Honour Into Lust, To Take Away The Edge Of That Day's Celebration, When I Shall Think Or Phoebus' Steeds Are Founder'd Or Night Kept Chain'd Below.

Many A True Word Hath Been Spoken In Jest.

The Gods Are Deaf To Hot And Peevish Vows. They Are Polluted Off'rings, More Abhorred! Than Spotted Livers In The Sacrifice.