As Chaste As Unsunned Snow.

Vengeance Is In My Heart, Death In My Hand,blood And Revenge Are Hammering In My Head.

Be Checked For Silence, But Never Taxed For Speech.

The Play's The Thing, Wherein I'll Catch The Conscience Of The King.

Eternity Was In Our Lips And Eyes, Bliss In Our Brows' Bent; None Our Parts So Poor But Was A Race Of Heaven.

The Horn, The Horn, The Lusty Horn Is Not A Thing To Laugh To Scorn.