I Cannot Tell What The Dickens His

And Some That Smile Have In Their Hearts, I Fear, Millions Of Mischiefs.

Thou Shalt Be Both The Plaintiff And The Judge Of Thine Own Cause.

I Cannot Be A Man With Wishing, Therefore I Will Die A Woman With Grieving.

Cupid Is A Knavish Lad, Thus To Make Poor Females Mad.

We May Outrun By Violent Swiftness And Lose By Over-running.