O, Train Me Not, Sweet

A Thousand Kisses Buys My Heart From Me; And Pay Them At Thy Leisure, One By One.

This Is A Way To Kill A Wife With Kindness.

With These Shreds They Vented Their Complainings, Which Being Answered And A Petition Granted Them, A Strange One, To Break The Heart Of Generosity, And Make Bold Power Look Pale, They Threw Their Caps As They Would Hang Them On The Horns O' Th' Moon, Shouting Their Emulation.

Too Much To Know Is To Know Nought But Fame; And Every Godfather Can Give A Name.

Yet But Three Come One More. Two Of Both Kinds Make Up Four. Ere She Comes Curst And Sad. Cupid Is A Knavish Lad. Thus To Make Poor Females Mad.