What A Piece Of Work Is A

Why, What Should Be The Fear? I Do Not Set My Life At A Pin's Fee.

War Is No Strife To The Dark House And The Detested Wife.

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

Set Honour In One Eye And Death I' The Other, And I Will Look On Both Indifferently.

Stars Hide Your Fires; Let Not Light See My Black And Deep Desires: The Eyes Wink At The Hand; Yet Let That Be Which The Eye Fears, When It Is Done, To See