Words To Deeds Cold Breath Gives.

Why, Look You, I Am Whipp'd And Scourg'd With Rods, Nettled And Stung With Pismires[nettles], When I Hear Of This Vile Politician, Bolingbroke.

He Wears The Rose Of Youth Upon Him.

O, My Lord, You Said That Idle Weeds Are Fast In Growth: The Prince My Brother Hath Outgrown Me Far.

...an Old Man Is Twice A Child.

Two Households, Both Alike In Dignity In Fair Verona, Where We Lay Our Scene From Ancient Grudge Break To New Mutiny Where Civil Blood Makes Civil Hands Unclean. From Forth The Fatal Loins Of These Two Foes A Pair Of Star-cross'd Lovers Take Their Life Whose Misadventured Piteous Overthrows Do With Their Death Bury Their Parents' Strife.