Et Tu Brute! (you Too, Brutus!)

Is Twenty Hundred Kisses Such A Trouble?

Use Every Man After His Desert, And Who Should Scape Whipping?

You Have Lost No Reputation At All, Unless You Repute Yourself Such A Loser.

Why Didst Thou Promise Such A Beauteous Day And Make Me Travel Forth Without My Cloak, To Let Base Clouds O'ertake Me In My Way, Hiding They Brav'ry In Their Rotten Smoke?

There Is None Of My Uncle's Marks Upon You; He Taught Me How To Know A Man In Love; In Which Cage Of Rushes I Am Sure You Are Not Prisoner.