God Grant Us Patience!

Smooth Runs The Water Where The Brook Is Deep.

What Have We Here? A Man Or A Fish? Dead Or Alive? A Fish: He Smells Like A Fish; A Very Ancient And Fishlike Smell; A Kind Of Not Of The Newest Poor-john. A Strange Fish!

A Stirring Dwarf We Do Allowance Give Before A Sleeping Giant.

I Am Indeed Not Her Fool, But Her Corrupter Of Words. (act Iii, Sc. I, 37-38)

No Evil Lost Is Wailed When It Is Gone.