Of All Knowledge The Wise And Good

Thou Ominous And Fearful Owl Of Death.

Oh, How This Spring Of Love Resembleth, The Uncertain Glory Of An April Day, Which Now Shows All Beauty Of The Sun, And By And By A Cloud Takes All Away

This Senior-junior, Giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid; Regent Of Love-rhymes, Lord Of Folded Arms, The Anointed Sovereign Of Sighs And Groans, Liege Of All Loiterers And Malcontents.

If Her Breath Were As Terrible As Her Terminations, There Were No Living Near Her, She Would Infect To The North Star!

Sweet Beatrice, Wouldst Thou Come When I Called Thee? Beatrice Yea, Signior, And Depart When You Bid Me. Benedick O, Stay But Till Then! Beatrice 'then' Is Spoken; Fare You Well Now... (much Ado About Nothing)