Then Come Kiss Me, Sweet And Twenty.

Every Inordinate Cup Is Unbless'd, And The Ingredient Is A Devil.

And Why Not Death Rather Than Living Torment? To Die Is To Be Banish'd From Myself; And Silvia Is Myself: Banish'd From Her Is Self From Self: A Deadly Banishment!

What's Brave, What's Noble, Let's Do It After The Roman Fashion.

Mine Eyes Were Not In Fault, For She Was Beautiful; Mine Ears, That Heard Her Flattery; Nor My Heart, That Thought Her Like Her Seeming. It Had Been Vicious To Have Mistrusted Her.

If Reasons Were As Plentiful As Blackberries, I Would Give No Man A Reason Upon Compulsion.