With Mirth In Funeral And With Dirge

And Thence From Athens Turn Away Our Eyes To Seek New Friends And Stranger Companies.

A Pair Of Star-crossed Lovers.

Conscience Is A Blushing, Shamefaced Spirit Than Mutinies In A Man's Bosom; It Fills One Full Of Obstacles.

I Have Heard Of Your Paintings Too, Well Enough; God Has Given You One Face, And You Make Yourselves Another: You Jig, You Amble, And You Lisp, And Nick-name God's Creatures, And Make Your Wantonness Your Ignorance. Go To, I'll No More On't; It Hath Made Me Mad.

'tis The Soldier's Life To Have Their Balmy Slumbers Waked With Strife.