They Are Hare-brain'd Slaves.

A Devil, A Born Devil On Whose Nature, Nurture Can Never Stick, On Whom My Pain, Humanly Taken, All Lost, Quite Lost.

O Tiger's Heart Wrapped In A Woman's Hide!

O' Thinkest Thou We Shall Ever Meet Again? I Doubt It Not; And All These Woes Shall Serve For Sweet Discourses In Our Times To Come.

Methinks You Are My Glass, And Not My Brother: I See By You I Am A Sweet-faced Youth.

In Scorn Of Nature, Art Gave Lifeless Life.