Cymbeline

Fear no more the heat o' the sun, Nor the furious winter's rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages; Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o' the great; Thou art past the tyrant's stroke: Care no more to clothe and eat; To thee the reed is as the oak: The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust. Fear no more the lightning-flash, Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone; Fear not slander, censure rash; Thou hast finished joy and moan; All lovers young, all lovers must Consign to thee, and come to dust. No exorciser harm thee! Nor no witchcraft charm thee! Ghost unlaid forbear thee! Nothing ill come near thee! Quiet consummation have; And renownéd be thy grave!

Hang there like a fruit, my soul, Till the tree die! -Posthumus Leonatus Act V, Scene V

Kneel not to me. The pow'r that I have on you is to spare you; The malice towards you to forgive you. Live, And deal with others better.

Golden lads and girls all must as chimney sweepers come to dust.

Hang there like fruit, my soul, Till the tree die.

The pow'r I have on you is to spare you / The malice towards you, to forgive you. Posthumus

I am glad I was up so late, for that's the reason I was up so early.

The sweat of industry would dry and die, But for the end it works to.

our cage We make a quire, as doth the prison'd bird, And sing our bondage freely.

Fortune brings in some boats that are not steered.

...though those that are betray'd Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor Stands in worse case of woe.

You may wear her in title yours: but, you know, strange fowl light upon neighbouring ponds.

Now, master doctor, have you brought those drugs?

thither write, my queen, And with mine eyes I'll drink the words you send Though ink be made of gall.

What pleasure, sir, find we in life to lock it / From action and adventure?

not Hercules148 Could have knocked out his brains, for he had none: