Patience Is Sottish, And Impatience Does Become

The Course Of True Love Never Did Run Smooth.

O Prosperina, For The Flowers Now That, Frighted, Thou Let'st Fall From Dis's Wagon; Daffodils, That Come Before The Swallow Dares, And Take The Winds Of March With Beauty; Violets Dim, But Sweeter Than The Lids Of Juno's Eyes Or Cytherea's Breath; Pale Primroses, That Die Unmarried, Ere They Can Behold Bright Phoebus In His Strength--a Malady Most Incident To Maids; Bold Oxlips And The Crown Imperial; Lilies Of All Kinds, The Flower-de-luce Being One.

Sir Andrew Ague-cheek: I'll Stay A Month Longer. I Am A Fellow O' The Strangest Mind I' The World; I Delight In Masques And Revels Sometimes Altogether (he's An Oddity In That He Enjoys Having Fun)

He Wears The Rose Of Youth Upon Him.

Men Have Died From Time To Time, And Worms Have Eaten Them, But Not For Love.