For She Had Eyes And Chose Me.

There Was Never Yet Philosopher That Could Endure The Toothache Patiently

Then To Silvia Let Us Sing That Silvia Is Excelling. She Excels Each Mortal Thing Upon The Dull Earth Dwelling.

'sblood, You Starveling, You Elf-skin, You Dried Neat's Tongue, You Bull's Pizzle, You Stock-fish! O For Breath To Utter What Is Like Thee! You Tailor's-yard, You Sheath, You Bowcase; You Vile Standing-tuck!

So May He Rest, His Faults Lie Gently On Him!

Sin From Thy Lips? O Trespass Sweetly Urged! Give Me My Sin Again.