Maids want nothing but husbands, and when they have them, they want everything.
O, she's warm! If this be magic, let it be an art Lawful as eating.
What though care killed a cat, thou hast mettle enough in thee to kill care.
She will die if you love her not, And she will die ere she might make her love known
And blind oblivion swallowed cities up.
Within the book and volume of thy brain.