Act i. Sc. 1.
Were you with these, my prince, you'd soon forget
The pale unripened beauties of the North.
Act ii. Sc. 1.
My voice is still for war.
Gods! can a Roman Senate long debate
Which of the two to choose, slavery or death?
Act iv. Sc. 1.
The woman that deliberates is lost.
Act iv. Sc. 2.
When vice prevails, and impious men bear sway,
The post of honor is a private station.
Act v. Sc. 1.
It must be so.—Plato, thou reasonest well.
Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,
This longing after immortality?