If this fail, The pillar'd firmament is rottenness, And earth's base built on stubble.

Mutual love, the crown of all our bliss.

The never-ending flight Of future days.

It is lawful and hath been held so through all ages for any one who have the power to call to account a tyrant or wicked king, and after due conviction to depose and put him to death.

Who shall silence all the airs and madrigals that whisper softness in chambers?

How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, stolen on his wing my three-and-twentieth year!

Who overcomes by force, hath overcome but half his foe.