A Young Man Married Is A Man

Ere Yet The Salt Of Most Unrighteous Tears Had Left The Flushing Of Her Gallèd Eyes, She Married. O, Most Wicked Speed, To Post With Such Dexterity To Incestuous Sheets!

Lay On, Mcduff, And Be Damned He Who First Cries, 'hold, Enough!

He That Hath The Steerage Of My Course, Direct My Sail.

So Shalt Thou Feed On Death, That Feeds On Men.

Nice Customs Curtsy To Great Kings.