The Lady Doth Protest Too Much, Methinks.

To Hell, Allegiance! Vows, To The Blackest Devil! Conscience, And Grace, To The Profoundest Pit! I Dare Damnation: To This Point I Stand,-- That Both The Worlds I Give To Negligence, Let Come What Comes; Only I'll Be Reveng'd.

I'll Drown More Sailors Than The Mermaid Shall; I'll Slay More Gazers Than The Basalisks; I'll Play The Orator As Well As Nestor, Decieve More Slily That Ulysses Could, And Like A Sinon, Take Another Troy. I Can Add Colors To The Chameleon, Change Shapes With Proteus For Advantages And Set The Murderous Machiavel To School. Can I Do This, And Cannot Get A Crown? Tut! Were It Further Off, I'll Pluck It Down.

In Sweet Music Is Such Art: Killing Care And Grief Of Heart Fall Asleep, Or Hearing, Die.

Hamlet: Lady, Shall I Lie In Your Lap? Ophelia: No, My Lord. Hamlet: Did You Think I Meant Country Matters? Ophelia: I Think Nothing, My Lord. Hamlet: That's A Fair Thought To Lie Between Maids' Legs. Ophelia: What Is, My Lord? Hamlet: Nothing.

God Grant Us Patience!