Friends, Romans, Countrymen, Lend Me Your Ears;

Wishers Were Ever Fools.

For She Had Eyes And Chose Me.

For I Have Sworn Thee Fair, And Thought Thee Bright, Who Art As Black As Hell, As Dark As Night.

Our Jovial Star Reigned At His Birth.

I Can Get No Remedy Against This Consumption Of The Purse: Borrowing Only Lingers And Lingers It Out, But The Disease Is Incurable.