Refrain to-night; And that shall lend a kind of easiness To the next abstinence, the next more easy; For use almost can change the stamp of nature, And either master the devil or throw him out With wondrous potency.

Death is my son-in-law. Death is my heir. My daughter he hath wedded. I will die, And leave him all. Life, living, all is Death’s.

Put forth thy hand, reach at the glorious gold.

Well, if Fortune be a woman, she's a good wench for this gear.

Let me be that I am and seek not to alter me.

Fall Greeks; fail fame; honour or go or stay; My major vow lies here, this I'll obey.

Here is a rural fellow that will not be denied your Highness' presence: he brings you figs.