Life Every Man Holds Dear; But The

Dissembling Courtesy! How Fine This Tyrant Can Trickle When She Wounds!

Men Of Few Words Are The Best Men." (3.2.41)

Such Is My Love, To Thee I So Belong, That For Thy Right Myself Will Bear All Wrong.

His Neigh Is Like The Bidding Of A Monarch, And His Countenance Enforces Homage. He Is Indeed A Horse.

I Wish You Well And So I Take My Leave, I Pray You Know Me When We Meet Again.