She's beautiful, and therefore to be wooed; She is a woman, therefore to be won.
Delivers in such apt and gracious words that aged ears play truant at his tales; And younger hearings are quite ravished; So sweet and voluble is his discourse.
Death where is thy sting? Love, where is thy glory?
Things done well and with a care, exempt themselves from fear.
Thou weedy elf-skinned canker-blossom!
We must every one be a man of his own fancy.