What's Brave, What's Noble, Let's

Thou Hast Not Half That Power To Do Me Harm As I Have To Be Hurt.

If I Profane With My Unworthiest Hand This Holy Shrine, The Gentle Fine Is This: My Lips, Two Blushing Pilgrims, Ready Stand To Smooth That Rough Touch With A Tender Kiss.

A Very Scurvy Fellow.

If [god] Send Me No Husband, For The Which Blessing I Am At Him Upon My Knees Every Morning And Evening.

Exit, Pursued By A Bear.