And She's Fair I Love.

O, Swear Not By The Moon, The Fickle Moon, The Inconstant Moon, That Monthly Changes In Her Circle Orb, Lest That Thy Love Prove Likewise Variable

He That Dies Pays All Debts.

What A Terrible Era In Which Idiots Govern The Blind.

Hold, Or Cut Bowstrings.

O, I Do Not Like That Paying Back, 'tis A Double Labor.