Come Give Us A Taste Of Your

I Understand Thy Kisses, And Thou Mine, And That's A Feeling Disputation.

What Power Is It Which Mounts My Love So High, That Makes Me See, And Cannot Feed Mine Eye

Such An Act That Blurs The Grace And Blush Of Modesty; Calls Virtue Hypocrite; Takes Off The Rose From The Fair Forehead Of An Innocent Love, And Sets A Blister There; Makes Marriage Vows As False As Dicers' Oaths.

My Chastity's The Jewel Of Our House, Bequeathed Down From Many Ancestors.

Away, You Trifler! Love! I Love Thee Not, I Care Not For Thee, Kate: This Is No World To Play With Mammets And To Tilt With Lips: We Must Have Bloody Noses And Cracked Crowns.