A Merry Heart Goes All The Way,

What Is Light, If Sylvia Be Not Seen? What Is Joy If Sylvia Be Not By?

Lords, I Protest My Soul Is Full Of Woe That Blood Should Sprinkle Me To Make Me Grow. Come, Mourn With Me For What I Do Lament, And Put Sullen Black Incontinent. I'll Make A Voyage To The Holy Land To Wash This Blood Off From My Guilty Hand. March Sadly After. Grace My Mournings Here In Weeping After This Untimely Bier.

Good Wombs Have Borne Bad Sons." -- (miranda, I:2)

I Was A Coward On Instinct.

But I Will Be, A Bridegroom In My Death, And Run Into't As To A Lover's Bed.