We Are Such Stuff As Dreams Are

No, No, No, No! Come, Let's Away To Prison: We Two Alone Will Sing Like Birds I' The Cage: When Thou Dost Ask Me Blessing, I'll Kneel Down, And Ask Of Thee Forgiveness: So We'll Live, And Pray, And Sing, And Tell Old Tales, And Laugh At Gilded Butterflies, And Hear Poor Rogues Talk Of Court News; And We'll Talk With Them Too, Who Loses And Who Wins; Who's In, Who's Out; And Take Upon's The Mystery Of Things, As If We Were God's Spies: And We'll Wear Out, In A Wall'd Prison, Packs And Sects Of Great Ones, That Ebb And Flow By The Moon.

I Pray You, Do Not Fall In Love With Me, For I Am Falser Than Vows Made In Wine.

What? Do I Love Her, That I Desire To Hear Her Speak Again, And Feast Upon Her Eyes

Forbear To Judge, For We Are Sinners All.

I Had As Lief Have Been Myself Alone.