Take Pains. Be Perfect.

A Knavish Speech Sleeps In A Fool's Ear.

What Showers Arise, Blown With The Windy Tempest Of My Heart

We Will Have Rings And Things And Fine Array

My Dear, Dear Lord, The Purest Treasure Mortal Times Afford Is Spotless Reputation; That Away Men Are But Gilded Loan Or Painted Clay... Mine Honor Is My Life; Both Grow In One; Take Honor From Me, And My Life Is Done.

By Heaven, My Soul Is Purg'd From Grudging Hate; And With My Hand I Seal My True Heart's Love