So We'll Live, And Pray, And Sing,

Antonio: Will You Stay No Longer? Nor Will You Not That I Go With You? Sebastian: By Your Patience, No. My Stars Shine Darkly Over Me; The Malignancy Of My Fate Might, Perhaps, Distemper Yours; Therefore I Shall Crave Of You Your Leave That I May Bear My Evils Alone. It Were A Bad Recompense For Your Love To Lay Any Of Them On You.

I Count Myself In Nothing Else So Happy As In A Soul Remembering My Good Friends

That Which Hath Made Them Drunk Hath Made Me Bold; What Hath Quenched Them Hath Given Me Fire.

Sweet Flowers Are Slow And Weeds Make Haste.

Here Comes A Pair Of Very Strange Beasts, Which In All Tongues Are Called Fools.