What, All So Soon Asleep! I Wish

Tis Mad Idolatry To Make The Service Greater Than The God.

Take Her Away; For She Hath Lived Too Long, To Fill The World With Vicious Qualities.

Light, Seeking Light, Doth Light Of Light Beguile

Leonato Well, Niece, I Hope To See You One Day Fitted With A Husband. Beatrice Not Till God Make Men Of Some Other Metal Than Earth. Would It Not Grieve A Woman To Be Overmastered With A Pierce Of Valiant Dust? To Make An Account Of Her Life To A Clod Of Wayward Marl? No, Uncle, I'll None: Adam's Sons Are My Brethren; And, Truly, I Hold It A Sin To Match In My Kindred.

Pray You Now, Forget And Forgive.