If This Be Not Love, It Is

O Fie, Miss, You Must Not Kiss And Tell.

Nor Hell A Fury, Like A Woman Scorn'd.

He That First Cries Out Stop Thief, Is Often He That Has Stolen The Treasure.

If This Be Not Love, It Is Madness, And Then It Is Pardonable.

O, Nothing Is More Alluring Than A Levee From A Couch In Some Confusion.