Here Was A Caesar! When Comes Such

Wisely, I Say, I Am A Bachelor.

Have You Not Love Enough To Bear With Me, When That Rash Humor Which My Mother Gave Me Makes Me Forgetful.

The Time Is Out Of Joint.

And What Art Thou, Thou Idol Ceremony? What Kind Of God Art Thou, That Suffer'st More Of Mortal Griefs Than Do Thy Worshippers?

Doubt Thou The Stars Are Fire; Doubt That The Sun Doth Move; Doubt Truth To Be A Liar; But Never Doubt I Love.