Double, double, toil and trouble; Fire burn, and cauldron bubble!
Thou whoreson zed! thou unnecessary letter!
There's daggers in men's smiles.
Some innocents 'scape not the thunderbolt.
Canst thou, O partial sleep, give thy repose to the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude, and in the calmest and most stillest night, with all appliances and means to boot, deny it to a king?
Constant you are, But yet a woman; and for secrecy, No lady closer; for I well believe Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know.