Let The Doors Be Shut Upon Him,

That In The Captains But A Choleric Word Which In The Soldier Is Flat Blasphemy.

Swear Me, Kate, Like A Lady As Thou Art, A Good Mouth-filling Oath.

The Little Dogs And All, Tray, Blanch, And Sweetheart-see, They Bark At Me.

I Do Oppose My Patience To His Fury, And Am Arm'd To Suffer, With A Quietness Of Spirit, The Very Tyranny And Rage Of His.

The Foole Doth Thinke He Is Wise, But The Wiseman Knowes Himselfe To Be A Foole.