Last scene of all that ends this strange, eventful history, is second childishness and mere oblivion. I am sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
Use almost can change the stamp of nature.
Shall remain! Hear you this Triton of the minnows? Mark you His absolute 'shall'?
No legacy is so rich as honesty.
Rumour doth double, like the voice and echo, The numbers of the feared.
I will be correspondent to command, And do my spiriting gently.