I Have Set My Life Upon A

Omission To Do What Is Necessary Seals A Commission To A Blank Of Danger; And Danger, Like An Ague, Subtly Taints Even Then When We Sit Idly In The Sun.

Alas, Their Love May Be Call'd Appetite. No Motion Of The Liver, But The Palate

Ere Yet The Salt Of Most Unrighteous Tears Had Left The Flushing Of Her Gallèd Eyes, She Married. O, Most Wicked Speed, To Post With Such Dexterity To Incestuous Sheets!

Holy, Fair, And Wise Is She; The Heaven Such Grace Did Lend Her, That She Might Admired Be.

If Reasons Were As Plentiful As Blackberries, I Would Give No Man A Reason Upon Compulsion.