I Care Not, A Man

I...kisss The Tender Inward Of Thy Hand.

By Innocence I Swear, And By My Youth, I Have One Heart, One Bosom, And One Truth, And That No Woman Has, Nor Never None Shall Mistress Be Of It Save I Alone.

Let There Be Gall Enough In Thy Ink, Though Thou Write With A Goose-pen, No Matter.

Grief Hath Two Tongues; And Never Woman Yet Could Rule Them Both Without Ten Women's Wit.

You Are An Alchemist; Make Gold Of That.