All Dark And Comfortless.

Thou Art A Slave, Whom Fortune's Tender Arm With Favour Never Clasp'd; But Bred A Dog.

Instinct Is A Great Matter. I Was Now A Coward On Instinct.

I Shall Laugh Myself To Death At This Puppy-headed Monster!

Love Is A Spirit All Compact Of Fire.

Angels And Ministers Of Grace Defend Us! Be Thou A Spirit Of Health, Or Goblin Damn'd, Bring With Thee Airs From Heaven, Or Blasts From Hell, Be Thy Intents Wicked, Or Charitable, Thou Com'st In Such A Questionable Shape, That I Will Speak To Thee.