For I Have Sworn Thee Fair, And

Suffer Love; A Good Epithet! I Do Suffer Love, Indeed, For I Love Thee Against My Will.

What Though Care Killed A Cat, Thou Hast Mettle Enough In Thee To Kill Care.

Take Physic, Pomp; Expose Thyself To Feel What Wretches Feel, That Thou Mayst Shake The Superflux To Them And Show The Heavens More Just.

I Will Be Master Of What Is Mine Own: She Is My Goods, My Chattels; She Is My House, My Household Stuff, My Field, My Barn, My Horse, My Ox, My Ass, My Any Thing.

My Long Sickness Of Health And Living Now Begins To Mend, And Nothing Brings Me All Things.