This Cold Night Will Turn

Contention, Like A Horse, Full Of High Feeding, Madly Hath Broke Loose, And Bears Down All Before Him.

For In My Youth I Never Did Apply Hot And Rebellious Liquors In My Blood.

O You Beast! I'll So Maul You And Your Toasting-iron, That You Shall Think The Devil Is Come From Hell.

Dispute Not With Her: She Is Lunatic.

And Keep You In The Rear Of Your Affection, Out Of The Shot And Danger Of Desire, The Chariest Maid Is Prodigal Enough If She Unmasks Her Beauty To The Moon.