Be Not Afeard; The Isle Is Full

This Above All; To Thine Own Self Be True.

Love Will Not Be Spurred To What It Loathes

You Are My True And Honourable Wife; As Dear To Me As The Ruddy Drops That Visit My Sad Heart.

Then Is It Sin To Rush Into The Secret House Of Death. Ere Death Dare Come To Us?

How Wayward Is This Foolish Love That, Like A Testy Babe, Will Scratch The Nurse And Presently, All Humble, Kiss The Rod.