For What I Will, I Will, And

I Cannot But Remember Such Things Were That Were Most Precious To Me.

There Is Not One Wise Man In Twenty That Will Praise Himself.

Quince Francis Flute, The Bellows-mender. Flute Here, Peter Quince. Quince Flute, You Must Take Thisby On You. Flute What Is Thisby? A Wandering Knight? Quince It Is The Lady That Pyramus Must Love. Flute Nay, Faith, Let Me Not Play A Woman; I Have A Beard Coming.

There Is A Kind Of Character In Thy Life, That To The Observer Doth Thy History, Fully Unfold.

. . From This Moment The Very Firstlings Of My Heart Shall Be The Firstlings Of My Hand. And Even Now, To Crown My Thoughts With Acts, Be It Thought And Done.