For My Own Part, I Shall Be

That God Forbid, That Made Me First Your Slave, I Should In Thought Control Your Times Of Pleasure, Or At Your Hand Th' Account Of Hours To Crave, Being Your Vassal Bound To Stay Your Leisure.

For Never Was A Story Of More Woe Than This Of Juliet And Her Romeo.

Once More Unto The Breach, Dear Friends, Once More; Or Close The Wall With Our English Dead.

Strikes Deeper, Grows With More Pernicious Root.

What Is Thy Sentence Then But Speechless Death.