Our Remedies Oft In Ourselves Do Lie,

If Love Be Blind, Love Cannot Hit The Mark

There's Little Of The Melancholy Element In Her, My Lord: She Is Never Sad But When She Sleeps; And Not Ever Sad Then; For I Have Heard My Daughter Say, She Hath Often Dreamt Of Unhappiness, And Waked Herself With Laughing.

And Either Victory, Or Else A Grave.

Myself Will Straight Aboard, And To The State This Heavy Act With Heavy Heart Relate.

Like A Dull Actor Now, I Have Forgot My Part, And I Am Out, Even To A Full Disgrace.