Your Tale, Sir, Would Cure Deafness.

For My Own Part, I Shall Be Glad To Learn Of Noble Men.

A Little Water Clears Us Of This Deed.

Had I No Eyes But Ears, My Ears Would Love. That Inward Beauty And Invisible; Or Were I Deaf, Thy Outward Parts Would Move Each Part In Me That Were But Sensible: Though Neither Eyes Nor Ears, To Hear Nor See, Yet Should I Be In Love By Touching Thee. 'say, That The Sense Of Feeling Were Bereft Me, And That I Could Not See, Nor Hear, Nor Touch, And Nothing But The Very Smell Were Left Me, Yet Would My Love To Thee Be Still As Much; For From The Stillitory Of Thy Face Excelling Comes Breath Perfum'd That Breedeth Love By Smelling.

All Impediments In Fancy's Course Are Motives Of More Fancy.

Some Cupid Kills With Arrows, Some With Traps.