A Book? O, Rare One,

One Sin Another Doth Provoke.

The Pow'r That I Have On You Is To Spare You; The Malice Towards You To Forgive You.

The Gloomy Shade Of Death.

By God, I Cannot Flatter, I Do Defy The Tongues Of Soothers! But A Braver Place In My Heart's Love Hath No Man Than Yourself. Nay, Task Me To My Word; Approve Me, Lord.

You Wear Out A Good Wholesome Forenoon In Hearing A Cause Between An Orange Wife And A Fosset-seller.