What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet, But poisoned flattery?
Away, you mouldy rogue, away!
There's no trust, No faith, no honesty in men; all perjured, All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.
Some smack of age in you, some relish of the saltness of time.
The prince of darkness is a gentleman!
He is well paid that is well satisfied.