1 That last is true; the sweeter rest was mine.
2 Get thee to bed and rest, for thou hast need.
3 Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest.
4 Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late, I'll to my rest.
5 As sweet repose and rest Come to thy heart as that within my breast.
6 O, here Will I set up my everlasting rest; And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars From this world-wearied flesh.
7 Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant, The County Paris hath set up his rest That you shall rest but little.
8 Good King of Cats, nothing but one of your nine lives; that I mean to make bold withal, and, as you shall use me hereafter, dry-beat the rest of the eight.
9 He rests his minim rest, one, two, and the third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silk button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the very first house, of the first and second cause.
10 He rests his minim rest, one, two, and the third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silk button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the very first house, of the first and second cause.
11 For this time all the rest depart away: You, Capulet, shall go along with me, And Montague, come you this afternoon, To know our farther pleasure in this case, To old Free-town, our common judgement-place.