O, She Misused Me Past The Endurance

I Am Not Merry, But I Do Beguile The Thing I Am By Seeming Otherwise.

Tush! Fear Not, My Lord, We Will Not Stand To Prate; Talkers Are No Good Doers: Be Assured We Come To Use Our Hands And Not Our Tongues.

Modest Wisdom Plucks Me From Over-credulous Haste.

Lady, You Are The Cruel'st She Alive If You Will Lead These Graces To The Grave And Leave The World No Copy.

I Hold Him But A Fool That Will Endanger His Body For A Girl That Loves Him Not.