A True Repentance Shuns The Evil Itself,

Oh, She Doth Teach The Torches To Burn Bright!

If I Were A Woman I Would Kiss As Many Of You As Had Beards That Pleased Me, Complexions That Liked Me And Breaths That I Defied Not

My Father Compounded With My Mother Under The Dragon's Tail, And My Nativity Was Under Ursa Major, So That It Follows, I Am Roughand Lecherous. Tut, I Should Have Been That I Am, Had The Maidenliest Star In The Firmament Twinkled On My Bastardizing.

If This Were Played Upon A Stage Now, I Could Condemn It As An Improbable Fiction.

When I Bestride Him, I Soar, I Am A Hawk: He Trots The Air; The Earth Sings When He Touches It; The Basest Horn Of His Hoof Is More Musical Than The Pipe Of Hermes.