When we our betters see bearing our woes, We scarcely think our miseries our foes.

In thy face I see the map of honour, truth and loyalty.

I thank you all and here dismiss you all, and to the love and favor of my country commit myself, my person, and the cause.

Although the last, not least.

The weight of this sad time we must obey, Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say. The oldest hath borne most: we that are young Shall never see so much, nor live so long.

Petruchio: Come, come, you wasp; i' faith, you are too angry. Katherine: If I be waspish, best beware my sting. Petruchio: My remedy is then, to pluck it out. Katherine: Ay, if the fool could find where it lies. Petruchio: Who knows not where a wasp does wear his sting? In his tail. Katherine: In his tongue. Petruchio: Whose tongue? Katherine: Yours, if you talk of tails: and so farewell. Petruchio: What, with my tongue in your tail? Nay, come again, Good Kate; I am a gentleman.

Or are you like the painting of a sorrow, a face without a heart?