He that dies pays all debts.

A kind Of excellent dumb discourse.

Merrily, merrily shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.

Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.

O, how this spring of love resembleth The uncertain glory of an April day!

I will be correspondent to command, And do my spiriting gently.

Fill all thy bones with aches.

Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes: Nothing of him that doth fade But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange.