The Gallantry Of His Grief Did Put

Ere Yet The Salt Of Most Unrighteous Tears Had Left The Flushing Of Her Gallèd Eyes, She Married. O, Most Wicked Speed, To Post With Such Dexterity To Incestuous Sheets!

The Pow'r That I Have On You Is To Spare You; The Malice Towards You To Forgive You.

Cease Thy Counsel, For Thy Words Fall Into My Ears As Priceless As Water Into A Seive.

Never, Never, Never, Never, Never! Pray You, Undo This Button.

Conceal Me What I Am, And Be My Aid For Such Disguise As Haply Shall Become The Form Of My Intent.