Or art thou but / A dagger of the mind, a false creation, / Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept.
A sad tale's best for winter. I have one of sprites and goblins.
RUMOUR: "Upon my tongues continual slanders ride, The which in every language I pronounce, Stuffing the ears of men with false reports.
Grace and remembrance be to you both.
Tired with all these, for restful death I cry.