(1) That strain again! it had a dying fall:
O! it came o’er my ear like the sweet sound
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odour.
Twelfth Night
(2) Cleopatra.Come, thou mortal wretch,
[To the asp, which she applies to her breast.
With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate
Of life at once untie; poor venomous fool,
Be angry, and despatch....