Tam: What begg’st thou then? fond woman, let me go. Lav: ’Tis present death I beg; and one thing more That womanhood denies my tongue to tell. O! keep me from their worse than killing lust, And tumble me into some loathsome pit, Where never man’s eye may behold my body: Do this, and be a charitable murderer. Tam: So should I rob my sweet sons of their fee: No, let them satisfy their lust on thee. Dem: Away! for thou hast stay’d us here too long. Lav: No grace! no womanhood! Ah, beastly creature, The blot and enemy to our general name. Confusion fall—

Thanks, sir; all the rest is mute.

Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible to feelings as to sight?

I count myself in nothing else so happy as in a soul remembering my good Friends

The extreme parts of time extremely forms all causes to the purpose of his speed.

Within the book and volume of thy brain.

Good wine is a good familiar creature if it be well used.