Thus Have I, Wall, My Part Discharged

I Know A Lady In Venice Would Have Walked Barefoot To Palestine For A Touch Of His Nether Lip

Too Much Of Water Hast Thou, Poor Ophelia, And Therefore I Forbid My Tears.

She Is Your Treasure, She Must Have A Husband; I Must Dance Bare-foot On Her Wedding Day, And, For Your Love To Her, Lead Apes In Hell.

For In My Youth I Never Did Apply Hot And Rebellious Liquors In My Blood.

O, I Do Not Like That Paying Back, 'tis A Double Labor.