Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises, Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears; and sometime voices, That, if I then had waked after long sleep, Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming, The clouds methought would open, and show riches Ready to drop upon me; that, when I waked, I cried to dream again.

Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage.

What fates impose, that men must needs abide; it boots not to resist both wind and tide.

On pain of death, no person be so bold.

The appurtenance of welcome is fashion and ceremony.

Nature does require her time of preservation, which perforce, I her frail son amongst my brethren mortal, must give my attendance to.

Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast.