Virtue Itself Scapes Not Calumnious

A Woman's Fitness Comes By Fits.

The Lady Doth Protest Too Much, Methinks.

Cry "havoc!" And Let Loose The Dogs Of War, That This Foul Deed Shall Smell Above The Earth With Carrion Men, Groaning For Burial.

Pardon, Gentles All, The Flat Unraised Spirits That Have Dared On This Unworthy Scaffold To Bring Forth So Great An Object.

Diseases Desperate Grown By Desperate Appliances Are Relieved, Or Not At All.