And Make Death Proud To

And Make Death Proud To Take Us.

All Strange And Terrible Events Are Welcome, But Comforts We Despise.

I Will Not Be Triumphed Over.

[at Marc Antony's Tomb:] Nothing Could Part Us In Life, But Now In Death We Are Likely To Change Places, You The Roman Lying Here In Egyptian Soil, And I, Helpless Woman That I Am, Being Buried In Italy.

Be It Known That We, The Greatest, Are Misthought.