Sit by my side, and let the world slip: we shall ne'er be younger.
And thence from Athens turn away our eyes To seek new friends and stranger companies.
A knot you are of damned bloodsuckers.
He capers, he dances, he has eyes of youth, he writes verses, he speaks holiday, he smells April and May.
He's a soldier; and for one to say a soldier lies, is stabbing.
Who can control his fate?