To Loathe The Taste Of Sweetness, Whereof

Let's Meet As Little As We Can

Now Get You To My Lady's Chamber, And Tell Her, Let Her Paint An Inch Thick, To This Favour She Must Come; Make Her Laugh At That.

A Man Cannot Make Him Laugh - But That's No Marvel; He Drinks No Wine.

To Say The Truth, So Judas Kissed His Master And Cried, 'all Hail!' When As He Meant All Harm.

On Rumor's Tongue Continual Slanders Ride.