For you, faire Hermia, looke you arme your ſelfe, / To fit your fancies, to your fathers vvill; / Or elſe, the Lavv of Athens yeelds you vp / (VVhich by no meanes vve may extenuate) / To death, or to a vovve of ſingle life.

The Swyne dyed of the Measils.

What a turn up for the books. Monty; dead. She couldn't deny that he'd been a pain in the arse sometimes, pompous and pedantic, but then, that was a byproduct of his job and she knew that he'd loved Sharon and their children.

a volelike rodent