I Long To Hear The Story Of

My Father's Wit, And My Mother's Tongue, Assist Me!

A Lover Goes Toward His Beloved As Enthusiastically As A Schoolboy Leaving His Books, But When He Leaves His Girlfriend, He Feels As Miserable As The Schoolboy On His Way To School. (act 2, Scene 2)

No .... Holy Father, Throw Away That Thought. Believe Not That The Dribbling Dart Of Love Can Pierce A Complete Bosom.

Look To Her, Moor, If Thou Has Eyes To See. She Has Deceived Her Father, And May Thee.

Why, I Can Smile And Murder Whiles I Smile, And Cry 'content' To That Which Grieves My Heart, And Wet My Cheeks With Artificial Tears, And Frame My Face For All Occasions