Now, Infidel, I Have You On The

Good Name In Man And Woman, Dear My Lord, Is The Immediate Jewel Of Their Souls: Who Steals My Purse Steals Trash; ’tis Something, Nothing; ’twas Mine, ’tis His, And Has Been Slave To Thousands; But He That Filches From Me My Good Name Robs Me Of That Which Not Enriches Him, And Makes Me Poor Indeed.

You Have Witchcraft In Your Lips

Nymph, In Thy Orisons Be All My Sins Remembered!

Give Me A Staff Of Honor For Mine Age, But Not A Sceptre To Control The World.

Is It Not Strange That Desire Should So Many Years Outlive Performance?