We Will Have Rings And

What A Piece Of Work Is A Man

Now I Will Believe That There Are Unicorns.

And Nothing Can We Call Our Own But Death And That Small Model Of The Barren Earth Which Serves As Paste And Cover To Our Bones. For God's Sake, Let Us Sit Upon The Ground And Tell Sad Stories Of The Death Of Kings.

Alas, That Love, Whose View Is Muffled Still, Should Without Eyes See Pathways To His Will!

He That Plays The King Shall Be Welcome- His Majesty Shall Have Tribute Of Me; The Adventurous Knight Shall Use His Foil And Target; The Lover Shall Not Sigh Gratis; The Humorous Man Shall End His Part In Peace; The Clown Shall Make Those Laugh Whose Lungs Are Tickle O' Th' Sere; And The Lady Shall Say Her Mind Freely, Or The Blank Verse Shall Halt Fort.