His Jest Will Savour But Of Shallow

The Hand Of Little Employment Hath The Daintier Sense.

A Thousand Kisses Buys My Heart From Me; And Pay Them At Thy Leisure, One By One.

How Strange Or Odd Some'er I Bear Myself, As I Perchance Hereafter Shall Think Meet To Put An Antic Disposition On.

What's In A Name? That Which We Call A Rose By Any Other Name Would Smell As Sweet.

Take Her Away; For She Hath Lived Too Long, To Fill The World With Vicious Qualities.