Can One Desire Too Much Of A

Base Men Being In Love Have Then A Nobility In Their Natures More Than Is Native To Them.

As I Love The Name Of Honour More Than I Fear Death.

Who Can Control His Fate?

Nay, Had I Pow'r, I Should Pour The Sweet Milk Of Concord Into Hell, Uproar The Universal Peace, Confound All Unity On Earth.

Gives Not The Hawthorn Bush A Sweeter Shade To Shepherds, Looking On Their Silly Sheep, Than Doth A Rich Embroider'd Canopy To Kings That Fear Their Subjects Treachery?