“O God of battles, steel my soldier's hearts.Possess them not with fear. Take from them nowThe sense of reckoning ere th' opposed numbersPluck their hearts from them.”

“Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to sufferThe slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,And by opposing end them?”

“The Friends Thou HastAnd Their Adoption TriedGrapple Them To Thy SoulWith Hooks Of Steel”

“Commend me to them,And tell them that, to ease them of their griefs,Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, losses,Their pangs of love, with other incident throesThat nature's fragile vessel doth sustainIn life's uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do them:I'll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades' wrath.First Senator I like this well; he will return again.TIMON I have a tree, which grows here in my close,That mine own use invites me to cut down,And shortly must I fell it: tell my friends,Tell Athens, in the sequence of degreeFrom high to low throughout, that whoso pleaseTo stop affliction, let him take his haste,Come hither, ere my tree hath felt the axe,And hang himself. I pray you, do my greeting.”

“Well, lords, we have not got that which we have:'Tis not enough our foes are this time fled,Being opposites of such repairing nature.York:I know our safety is to follow them;For, as I hear, the king is fled to London,To call a present court of parliament.Let us pursue him ere the writs go forth.What says Lord Warwick? shall we after them?Warwick:After them! nay, before them, if we can.Now, by my faith, lords, 'twas a glorious day:Saint Alban's battle won by famous YorkShall be eternized in all age to come.Sound drums and trumpets, and to London all:And more such days as these to us befall!”

“Discharge my followers; let them hence away,From Richard's night to Bolingbrooke's fair day.”

“Look, how this ring encompasseth thy finger,Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart; Wear both of them, for both of them are thine.”