I Had Rather Live With Cheese And

Well, If Fortune Be A Woman, She's A Good Wench For This Gear.

Fight Valiantly To-day; And Yet I Do Thee Wrong To Mind Thee Of It, For Thou Art Framed Of The Firm Truth Of Valor.

Love Surfeits Not, Lust Like A Glutton Dies; Love Is All Truth, Lust Full Of Forged Lies

Like Madness, Is The Glory Of This Life.

O World, How Apt The Poor Are To Be Proud!