And A Man's Life's No More Than

A Jest's Prosperity Lies In The Ear

In Truth, Fair Montague, I Am Too Fond.

I May Command Where I Adore.

Either Our History Shall With Full Mouth Speak Freely Of Our Acts, Or Else Our Grave, Like Turkish Mute, Shall Have A Tongueless Mouth, Not Worshipped With A Waxen Epitaph.

There Was A Star Danced, And Under That Was I Born.