All The World Is A Stage And

All Men's Faces Are True, Whatsome'er Their Hands Are.

Fight, Gentlemen Of England! Fight, Bold Yeomen! Draw, Archers, Draw Your Arrows To The Head! Spur Your Proud Horses Hard, And Ride In Blood; Amaze The Welkin With Your Broken Staves!

Hold, Or Cut Bowstrings.

O Faithless Coward! O Dishonest Wretch! Wilt Thou Be Made A Man Out Of My Vice?

My Cousin's A Fool, And Thou Art Another.