I Dote On His Very Absence.

Awake, Awake, English Nobility! Let Not Sloth Dim Your Horrors New-begot.

I Have Unclasp'd To Thee The Book Even Of My Secret Soul.

For My Part, If A Lie May Do Thee Grace, I'll Gild It With The Happiest Terms I Have.

She Speaks Poniards, And Every Word Stabs: If Her Breath Were As Terrible As Her Terminations, There Were No Living Near Her; She Would Infect To The North Star. I Would Not Marry Her, Though She Were Endowed With All That Adam Bad Left Him Before He Transgressed.

Be Just, And Fear Not.