I have a soul of lead So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.
O Death, made proud with pure and princely beauty!
You cannot, sir, take from me any thing that I will more willingly part withal: except my life, except my life, except my life.
For I can raise no money by vile means. By heaven, I had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas
Men prize the thing ungained more than it is.
Fore God, you have here a goodly dwelling and a rich.