There Was A Star Danced, And Under

The Play's The Thing, Wherein I'll Catch The Conscience Of The King.

I Beseech You, Wrest Once The Law To Your Authority: To Do A Great Right, Do A Little Wrong.

Your Date Is Better In Your Pie And Your Porridge Than In Your Cheek.

Look, What Envious Streaks Do Lace The Severing Clouds In Yonder East! Night's Candles Are Burnt Out, And Jocund Day Stands Tip-toe On The Misty Mountain-tops.

If Thou Dost Marry, I'll Give Thee This Plague For Thy Dowry: Be Thou As Chaste As Ice, As Pure As Snow, Thou Shalt Not Escape Calumny.