By Heaven, My Soul Is Purg'd From

Dispute Not With Her: She Is Lunatic.

I May Neither Choose Who I Would, Nor Refuse Who I Dislike; So Is The Will Of A Living Daughter Curbed By The Will Of A Dead Father.

All The Perfumes Of Arabia Will Not Sweeten This Little Hand! Oh, Oh, Oh!

We That Are True Lovers Run Into Strange Capers; But As All Is Mortal In Nature, So Is All Nature In Love Mortal In Folly.

I Am Not In The Roll Of Common Men.