By-and-by is easily said.
Lechery, lechery; still, wars and lechery: nothing else holds fashion.
That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold; What hath quenched them hath given me fire.
Would it not grieve a woman to be over-mastered by a piece of valiant dust? to make an account of her life to a clod of wayward marle?
Now let it work. Mischief, thou art afoot. Take thou what course thou wilt.
When he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.