Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again.
Are you sure/That we are awake? It seems to me/That yet we sleep, we dream
For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.
It is the stars, The stars above us, govern our conditions.
By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes.
Fare thee well, king: sith thus thou wilt appear, Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here.