Well, Diana, take heed of this French earl: the honour of a maid is her name; and no legacy is so rich as honesty.
There’s something in’t More than my father’s skill, which was the greatest Of his profession, that his good receipt Shall, for my legacy, be sanctified By th’ luckiest stars in heaven: and, would your honour But give me leave to try success, I’d venture The well-lost life of mine on his grace’s cure.
There are no more uses of "legacy" in the play.
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I had a heatstroke and that’s why I zoned in forensics and Chinese and didn’t rise to the bait when Diaz asked me what I thought about the legacy of Andrew Jackson.
Laurie Halse Anderson -- The Impossible Knife of Memory