By the apostle Paul, shadows tonight Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers.

I go, I go, look how I go, swifter than an arrow from a bow

As in a theatre, the eyes of men, after a well-graced actor leaves the stage, are idly bent on him that enters next.

Let me be ignorant, and in nothing good, but graciously to know I am no better.

Every man has business and desire, Such as it is.

Sweets to the sweet.

My thoughts are whirled like a potter's wheel; I know not where I am nor what I do.