How art thou out of breath when thou hast breath To say to me that thou art out of breath?

Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light

Fair thoughts and happy hours attend on you.

By my troth, I care not; a man can die but once; we owe God a death and let it go which way it will he that dies this year is quit for the next

Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe.

Art thou afeard To be the same in thine own act and valour As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, And live a coward in thine own esteem, Letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would,' Like the poor cat i' the adage?

Rumor is a pipe Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures.