The Clamorous Owl That Nightly Hoots And

The Morning Steals Upon The Night, Melting The Darkness.

Exit, Pursued By A Bear.

At Christmas, I No More Desire A Rose.

Treason And Murder Ever Kept Together, As Two Yoke-devils Sworn To Either's Purpose, Working So Grossly In A Natural Cause That Admiration Did Not Whoop At Them; But Thou, 'gainst All Proportion, Didst Bring In Wonder To Wait On Treason And On Murder; And Whatsoever Cunning Fiend It Was That Wrought Upon Thee So Preposterously Hath Got The Voice In Hell For Excellence.

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.