I Am A Kind Of Burr; I

But Love Is Blind And Lovers Cannot See

Thou Whoreson, Senseless Villain!

Let Me Tell You, Cassius, You Yourself Are Much Condemned To Have An Itching Palm.

If Thou Dost Marry, I'll Give Thee This Plague For Thy Dowry: Be Thou As Chaste As Ice, As Pure As Snow, Thou Shalt Not Escape Calumny.

Hot Lavender, Mints, Savory, Marjoram; The Marigold, That Goes To Bed Wi' The Sun, And With Him Rise Weeping.