Swear Me, Kate, Like A

What Man Art Thou That, Thus Bescreened In Night, So Stumblest On My Counsel? *who Are You? Why Do You Hide In The Darkness And Listen To My Private Thoughts?*

There's Her Cousin, An She Were Not Possessed With A Fury, Exceeds Her As Much In Beauty As The First Of May Doth The Last Of December.

What Infinite Heart's-ease Must Kings Neglect That Private Men Enjoy! And What Have Kings That Privates Have Not Too, Save Ceremony, Save General Ceremony?

When Workmen Strive To Do Better Than Well, They Do Confound Their Skill In Covetousness.

Lay Aside Life-harming Heaviness, And Entertain A Cheerful Disposition.