Scorn, At First, Makes After-love The More.

Faster Than Spring-time Showers Comes Thought On Thought.

I Will Go Wash; And When My Face Is Fair, You Shall Perceive Whether I Blush Or No.

The Venom Clamours Of A Jealous Woman Poison More Deadly Than A Mad Dog's Tooth.

Time, Whose Millioned Accidents Creep In Betwixt Vows, And Change Decrees Of Kings, Tan Sacred Beauty, Blunt The Sharpest Intents, Divert Strong Minds To The Course Of Altering Things.

Discuss Unto Me: Art Thou Officer, Or Art Thou Base, Common, And Popular?