What Is Thy Sentence Then But Speechless

What, My Dear Lady Disdain! Are You Yet Living? Beatrice: Is It Possible Disdain Should Die While She Hath Such Meet Food To Feed It As Signior Benedick?

In Maiden Meditation, Fancy Free.

It Is As Easy To Count Atomies As To Resolve The Propositions Of A Lover.

O, Spirit Of Love, How Quick And Fresh Art Thou!

I Have Very Poor And Unhappy Brains For Drinking.