I Dote On His Very Absence.

Loathsome Canker Lives In Sweetest Bud.

By Innocence I Swear, And By My Youth, I Have One Heart, One Bosom, And One Truth, And That No Woman Has, Nor Never None Shall Mistress Be Of It Save I Alone.

He Knows What It's Like To Strut And Fret His Hour Upon The Stage And Then Be Heard No More.

If You Prick Us Do We Not Bleed? If You Tickle Us Do We Not Laugh? If You Poison Us Do We Not Die? And If You Wrong Us Shall We Not Revenge?

The Labor We Delight In Physics [cures] Pain.