I Hold It Cowardice To Rest Mistrustful

Why Should You Think That I Should Woo In Scorn? Scorn And Derision Never Come In Tears: Look, When I Vow, I Weep; And Vows So Born, In Their Nativity All Truth Appears. How Can These Things In Me Seem Scorn To You, Bearing The Badge Of Faith, To Prove Them True?

Miracles Are Ceased; And Therefore We Must Needs Admit The Means, How Things Are Perfected.

By Heaven, I'll Make A Ghost Of Him That Lets Me.

O, Full Of Scorpions Is My Mind!

Silence Is The Perfectest Herald Of Joy: I Were But Little Happy, If I Could Say How Much. Lady, As You Are Mine, I Am Yours: I Give Away Myself For You And Dote Upon The Exchange.