There Are Many Events In The Womb

There's Not The Smallest Orb Which Thou Behold'st But In His Motion Like An Angel Sings.

I Will Make A Star-chamber Matter Of It.

Love Is Your Master, For He Masters You; And He That Is So Yoked By A Fool Methinks Should Not Be Chronicled For Wise.

Speak Of Me As I Am. Nothing Extenuate, Nor Set Down Aught In Malice.

What Wouldst Thou Do, Old Man? Think'st Thou That Duty Shall Have Dread To Speak When Power To Flattery Bows?