Woe, destruction, ruin, and decay; the worst is death and death will have his day.
Wilt thou whip thine own faults in other men?
Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania
Though music oft hath such a charm to make bad good, and good provoke to harm.
Would it not grieve a woman to be over-mastered by a piece of valiant dust? to make an account of her life to a clod of wayward marle?
You may my Glories and my State depose, But not my Griefes; still am I King of those.