Dissembling harlot, thou art false in all!

I have supped full with horrors.

Wishers were ever fools.

Thanks, sir; all the rest is mute.

And gentlemen in England now-a-bed Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

Light, seeking light, doth light of light beguile

Come not between the dragon and his wrath.