Cordelia! Stay A Little. Ha! What Is't

I Had Rather Be A Kitten And Cry Mew Than One Of These Same Metre Ballet-mongers.

I Desire You In Friendship, And I Will One Way Or Other Make You Amends.

But As The Unthought-on Accident Is Guilty To What We Wildly Do, So We Profess Ourselves To Be The Slaves Of Chance, And Flies Of Every Wind That Blows.

We Cannot Fight For Love, As Men May Do; We Shou'd Be Woo'd, And Were Not Made To Woo

No .... Holy Father, Throw Away That Thought. Believe Not That The Dribbling Dart Of Love Can Pierce A Complete Bosom.