What The Vengeance, Could He Not Speak

What We Determine We Often Break. Purpose Is But The Slave To Memory.

Then To Silvia Let Us Sing That Silvia Is Excelling. She Excels Each Mortal Thing Upon The Dull Earth Dwelling.

Lord, What Fools These Mortals Be!

Despair And Die. The Ghosts

Silence Is The Perfectest Herald Of Joy: I Were But Little Happy, If I Could Say How Much. Lady, As You Are Mine, I Am Yours: I Give Away Myself For You And Dote Upon The Exchange.