Thou Mak'st Me Merry: I Am Full

Sweet Beatrice, Wouldst Thou Come When I Called Thee? Beatrice Yea, Signior, And Depart When You Bid Me. Benedick O, Stay But Till Then! Beatrice 'then' Is Spoken; Fare You Well Now... (much Ado About Nothing)

A Young Woman In Love Always Looks Like Patience On A Monument Smiling At Grief

I Have More Care To Stay Than Will To Go.

You Peasant Swain! You Whoreson Malt-horse Drudge!

This Thou Perceivest, Which Makes Thy Love More Strong, To Love That Well Which Thou Must Leave Ere Long