Rebellion in this land shall lose his sway, meeting the check of such another day.

My stars shine darkly over me

A peace is of the nature of a conquest; for then both parties nobly are subdued, and neither party loser.

My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a villain. Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree; Murder, stern murder in the dir'st degree, Throng to the bar, crying all, 'Guilty!, guilty!

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

I long To hear the story of your life, which must Take the ear strangely.

Give thy thoughts no tongue.