O, What A Goodly Outside Falsehood Hath!

A Great While Ago The World Begun, With Hey, Ho, The Wind And The Rain; But That's All One, Our Play Is Done, And We'll Strive To Please You Every Day.

I Hold The World But As The World, Gratiano!

If After Every Tempest Come Such Calms, May The Winds Blow Till They Have Waken'd Death!

I Scorn You, Scurvy Companion.

Better Be With The Dead, Whom We To Gain Our Peace, Have Sent To Peace, Than On The Torture Of The Mind To Lie In Restless Ecstasy.