Ring The Alarum-bell! Blow, Wind! Come, Wrack!

It Is Not Enough To Speak, But To Speak Truee

We Have Some Salt Of Our Youth In Us.

To Be Slow In Words Is A Woman's Only Virtue.

Die For Adultery! No: The Wren Goes To't, And The Small Gilded Fly Does Lecher In My Sight

Friends Now Fast Sworn, Whose Double Bosoms Seems To Wear One Heart, Whose Hours, Whose Bed, Whose Meal And Exercise Are Still Together, Who Twin, As 'twere, In Love, Unseparable, Shall Within This Hour, On A Dissension Of A Doit, Break Out To Bitterest Enmity; So Fellest Foes, Whose Passions And Whose Plots Have Broke Their Sleep To Take The One The Other, By Some Chance, Some Trick Not Worth An Egg, Shall Grow Dear Friends And Interjoin Their Issues.