Tis A Happy Thing To Be The

Be To Yourself As You Would To Your Friend.

Fairest Cordelia, That Art Most Rich, Being Poor; Most Choice, Forsaken; And Most Loved, Despised! Thee And Thy Virtues Here I Seize Upon: Be It Lawful I Take Up What's Cast Away. Gods, Gods! 'tis Strange That From Their Cold'st Neglect My Love Should Kindle To Inflamed Respect. Thy Dowerless Daughter, King, Thrown To My Chance, Is Queen Of Us, Of Ours, And Our Fair France: Not All The Dukes Of Waterish Burgundy Can Buy This Unprized Precious Maid Of Me. Bid Them Farewell, Cordelia, Though Unkind: Thou Losest Here, A Better Where To Find.

All Men's Faces Are True, Whatsome'er Their Hands Are.

Speak, My Fair, And Fairly, I Pray Thee.

My Story Starts At Sea... A Perilous Voyage To An Unknown Land... A Shipwreck... The Wild Waters Roar And Heave... The Brave Vessel Is Dashed All To Pieces, And All The Helpless Souls Within Her Drowned... All Save One... A Lady... Whose Soul Is Greater Than The Ocean... And Her Spirit Stronger Than The Sea's Embrace... Not For Her A Watery End, But A New Life Beginning On A Stranger Shore. It Will Be A Love Story... For She Will Be My Heroine For All Time. And Her Name Will Be... Viola.