Hanging And Wiving Goes By Destiny.

A Peevish Self-willed Harlotry It Is. *she’s A Stubborn Little Brat.*

The Barge She Sat In, Like A Burnish'd Throne, Burnt On The Water.

I Am Giddy, Expectation Whirls Me Round. The Imaginary Relish Is So Sweet That It Enchants My Sense.

Hadst Thou No Poison Mixed, No Sharp-ground Knife, No Sudden Mean Of Death, Though Ne'er So Mean, But 'banished' To Kill Me--'banished'? O Friar, The Damned Use That Word In Hell; Howling Attends It! How Hast Thou The Heart, Being A Divine, A Ghostly Confessor, A Sin-absolver, And My Friend Professed, To Mangle Me With That Word 'banished'?

Be Not Afraid Of Greatness.