The Devil Shall Have His Bargain; For

Away, You Trifler! Love! I Love Thee Not, I Care Not For Thee, Kate: This Is No World To Play With Mammets And To Tilt With Lips: We Must Have Bloody Noses And Cracked Crowns.

Yes, Faith; It Is My Cousin's Duty To Make Curtsy And Say 'father, As It Please You.' But Yet For All That, Cousin, Let Him Be A Handsome Fellow, Or Else Make Another Curtsy And Say 'father, As It Please Me.

Love Is A Smoke Made With The Fume Of Sighs.

I Cannot Do It Without Comp[u]ters.

I Begin To Find An Idle And Fond Bondage In The Oppression Of Aged Tyranny, Who Sways, Not As It Hath Power, But As It Is Suffered.