I thank you all and here dismiss you all, and to the love and favor of my country commit myself, my person, and the cause.

I see a woman may be made a fool, If she had not a spirit to resist.

Then others for breath of words respect, Me for my dumb thoughts, speaking in effect.

Away, you cut-purse rascal! you filthy bung, away! By this wine, I'll thrust my knife in your mouldy chaps, an you play the saucy cuttle with me. Away, you bottle-ale rascal! you basket-hilt stale juggler, you!

They are fairies; he that speaks to them shall die. I'll wink and couch; no man their works must eye.

Merciful heaven, Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt Splits the unwedgeable and gnarled oak Than the soft myrtle; but man, proud man, Dressed in a little brief authority, Most ignorant of what he's most assured His glassy essence--like an angry ape Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven As makes the angels weep; who, with our spleens, would all themselves laugh mortal.

Lord, what fools these mortals be!