Farewell, Good Salisbury, And Good Luck Go

If All The Year Were Playing Holidays; To Sport Would Be As Tedious As To Work.

I Will Do Anything, Nerissa, Ere I'll Be Married To A Sponge.

Where Souls Do Couch On Flowers We'll Hand In Hand.

Hide Not Thy Poison With Such Sugar'd Words

To Bed, To Bed; Sleep Kill Those Pretty Eyes, And Give As Soft Attachment To Thy Senses, As Infants Empty Of All Thought.