You Are Made Rather To Wonder At

Reason Thus With Life: If I Do Lose Thee, I Do Lose A Thing That None But Fools Would Keep.

A Peevish Self-willed Harlotry It Is. *she’s A Stubborn Little Brat.*

This Is Some Fellow, Who Having Been Prais'd For Bluntness, Doth Affect A Saucy Roughness And Constrains The Garb Quite From His Nature: He Can't Flatter, He! An Honest Mind And Plain,--he Must Speak Truth! And They Will Take It So; If Not He's Plain. These Kind Of Knaves I Know, Which In This Plainness Harbor More Craft, And Far Corrupter Ends, Than Twenty Silly, Ducking Observants, That Stretch Their Duty Nicely.

Contention, Like A Horse, Full Of High Feeding, Madly Hath Broke Loose, And Bears Down All Before Him.

In Scorn Of Nature, Art Gave Lifeless Life.