I Scorn You, Scurvy Companion.

A True Repentance Shuns The Evil Itself, More Than The External Suffering Or The Shame.

I Sat Upon A Promontory, And Heard A Mermaid, On A Dolphin's Back, Uttering Such Dulcet And Harmonious Breath, That The Rude Sea Grew Civil At Her Song; And Certain Stars Shot Madly From Their Spheres, To Hear The Sea-maid's Music.

Upon His Royal Face There Is No Note How Dread An Army Hath Enrounded Him.

That God Forbid, That Made Me First Your Slave, I Should In Thought Control Your Times Of Pleasure, Or At Your Hand Th' Account Of Hours To Crave, Being Your Vassal Bound To Stay Your Leisure.

Wisely, I Say, I Am A Bachelor.