You're In Love? Out Out Of Love?

I'll Speak In A Monstrous Little Voice.

There's Her Cousin, An She Were Not Possessed With A Fury, Exceeds Her As Much In Beauty As The First Of May Doth The Last Of December.

An Angel; Or, If Not, An Earthly Paragon.

Pride Went Before, Ambition Follows Him.

From This Time Forth My Thoughts Be Bloody, Or Be Nothing Worth!