Tis Beauty Truly Blent, Whose Red And

I'll Be Damned For Never A King's Son In Christendom.

I'll Drown More Sailors Than The Mermaid Shall; I'll Slay More Gazers Than The Basalisks; I'll Play The Orator As Well As Nestor, Decieve More Slily That Ulysses Could, And Like A Sinon, Take Another Troy. I Can Add Colors To The Chameleon, Change Shapes With Proteus For Advantages And Set The Murderous Machiavel To School. Can I Do This, And Cannot Get A Crown? Tut! Were It Further Off, I'll Pluck It Down.

I Have Very Poor And Unhappy Brains For Drinking.

For You And I Are Past Our Dancing Days.

You Have Her Father's Love, Demetrius; Let Me Have Hermia's: Do You Marry Him!